BioBLOG

Night of the Living Squid

2012-02-28T08:10:00.001-07:00

Dateline: July 19, 1989. Honeymoon Cove, Isla Danzante, Baja California Sur
It was pitch dark when we first saw the body drifting into shore. One of my field assistants spotted it near our boat, which was moored on the beach. Under our headlamps, we could see the colors moving across its body in a sort of shimmering wave and pulsating: white to purple to red to white. Thinking it was in distress, we waded out and watched as she tried to gently push the 4 foot thing back out to sea with an oar from the boat. But, within seconds it was back. With a friend. And then, another. Within scant minutes, vibrating tentacles were everywhere. It was around this time that we realized two things. First, our little cove was awash in a multitude of rather large and frenetic squid. Second, the ink and strange milky fluids being ejected by the squid as they pulsated through a strange kaleidoscope of color were most likely a mix of ink, sperm and eggs. That is, we were standing in knee-deep water in the midst of an orgy of squid sex. Feeling both squeamish and a bit voyeuristic at this point, we quickly waded out of the water and watched from shore.

We had been on Isla Danzante for several days already, camped on a cove on the northern tip of the island. As an intrepid graduate student, I had the ambitious idea of measuring natural selection in the wild (think Darwin’s finches) and had been able to convince the National Science Foundation this might just be a good idea. Given my rather limited budget, I was working in what we called the poor man’s Galapagos, the land bridge islands off the Gulf of California. Amazingly, I had been able to lure a few fellow graduate students and undergraduates to come along with only the promise of adventure and abundant beer. We traveled the 1400 km down the Baja California peninsula several times a year and went out to the islands offshore in an 8-foot inflatable zodiac boat. My idea was to measure ongoing selection on the giant rodents that lived on the islands. I figured by marking a cohort of juveniles and characterizing their survivorship and fecundity, I could demonstrate fitness differences that were related to body size. Accordingly, our days had been spent climbing up and down the cliffs of the island, locating dens, marking individuals, and surveying the landscape. It was July. It was hot. It was really really hot. We had worked hard. We were pretty wiped.

As we stood mesmerized at the edge of the water, the activity became increasingly more turbulent. More and more squid came into shore, the colors whirled faster on their chromatosphore covered skin and the water was, to say the least, murky. We were stunned. The four of us stood silently on this lonely island shoreline in the middle of the Sea of Cortez with our headlamps and watched ancient organisms conduct an activity that dated back hundreds of millions of years. We had no idea what the hell was going on. After all, we worked on Rodents Of Unusual Size (ROUS), and knew next to nothing about cephalopods.

Themorning after. Our cove on Isla Danzantewas riddled with squid. But after
watching the mating frenzy of the night before, the idea of fresh calamari wasnot
particularly appealing.

As we later discovered, Humboldt squid (Dosidicus gigas) are notoriously aggressive carnivorous marine invertebrates that can grow to 2 meters in length and weigh as much as 45 kg. They live at depth along the eastern Pacific, including the Sea of Cortez. They are active foragers, eating anchovy, sardines, shrimp, small fish and other items that they catch while swimming at speeds of up to 24 km/hr. Interestingly, local Mexican fisherman refer to them as the “diablo rojo” (red devil) because they allegedly attack divers when threatened and continue attacking even after they've been landed in a boat. Not only are they capable of forcefully spraying water and ink (as we could readily attest), but their tentacles have suckers lined with sharp teeth. Fortunately, our squid were much more interested in mating than in attacking our legs (although maybe it was a good thing we moved out of the way). Our impression of dozens of individuals was probably an underestimate: Humboldt squid reportedly are found in shoals of up to 1,200 individuals. Little is known about cephalopod biology, in large part because they spend most of their lives at depths unsafe for diving. But, most species reproduce only once in their lifetime. It’s not clear why squid pick the particular place they do to spawn. Nor, the night. Thus, from a biologist’s perspective, we were in exactly the right place at just the right time.

After spending endless hours watching this orgy of squid sex on top of a day of hard work, we eventually collapsed just before dawn into our respective tents. Sadly, rest was not to be; we were woken up scant hours later by the cacophonous screaming of hundreds of sea gulls that had descended on our cove to fight over the fresh calamari. In community ecology, you learn that for competition to occur, there must be a limiting resource. Apparently, sea gulls skipped this lecture. There was certainly no lack of fresh squid along shore, yet they fought over individual carcasses with piercing and incessant shrieks that were impossible to drown out. By unspoken mutual consent- despite the work to be done that day, despite our gear left behind- we piled into our boat and headed for the mainland, where we crawled onto a blessedly quiet shore for some much needed sleep, leaving the gulls to their epic feast.

Felisa Smith is a Professor in the Biology department, who now spends a lot more time on the computer than in small boats (although sometimes she wishes it were otherwise). Her aquatic adventures have been supplanted by slightly more tame ones midden hunting in rocky terrain in the remote regions of the southwest.

Extraordinary Claims

2012-02-22T09:40:00.000-07:00

Today, my coworker called me over to her computer and said,“Check out this new footage of a WOOLY MAMMOTH in Siberia!!” My immediatereaction was, WTF? As I zoomed in until my nose practically hit the monitor, I agreedthe footage was convincing. However, given what I know of prehistoric mammals,I predicted it was bogus. Nonetheless, she insisted “it’s totally possible.” Ithought, maybe we’re not operating outside the realm of possibility - but is itplausible considering our knowledge of wooly mammoths? I warned her to beskeptical. Sure enough, less than a couple minutes later she said, “…Nevermind…itappears to be a hoax.” After a playful Itold you so look from me, she responded by stating proudly that she enjoyedthe video and the possibility of a wooly mammoth existing in present daySiberia. She said, “How cool would that have been?!” I agreed, laughed and wenton with my business.

This story may seem mundane, but can illustrate howdifferent people experience information. Most of us tend to ask questions,build hypotheses and make conclusions based on what we already know. I happento know that mammoths went extinct about 3,500 years ago. I also know that inorder for one to exist, there would likely have to be a persistent breedingpopulation surviving in present-day Siberia, for which there is no evidence. Tome, the claim that there is a wooly mammoth roaming around in 2012 Siberia isextraordinary. My prior knowledge led me to question it immediately. However,my coworker’s knowledge led her to readily accept it. At what point in eachindividual’s mind does a concept become plausible or implausible?

Say your friend says he saw a large block of ice on the roadthe size of a bowling ball. You might think it’s large, but probably fell offof a semi truck. You accept the claim as valid. But let’s say he claimed theice was the size of a sedan. Your mind likely starts questioning thecircumstances under which your friend experienced this large block of ice. Thesize may seem extraordinary if it contradicts something you may already know,or it constitutes something you know nothing of at all. Different people wouldquestion the block of ice at different sizes depending on what they know of iceblocks. In the case of the mammoth, what if instead the video claimed to be ofa bear? It probably wouldn’t be questioned because most people are aware thatbears are extant and probably occur in Siberia. On the other hand, what if thevideo claimed to be a dinosaur? Or an alien? Or an angel?

As Carl Sagan put it, “Extraordinary claims requireextraordinary evidence.” He argued that the more an idea is contrary to existingevidence, the more evidence is needed to reasonably accept it. I like to thinkabout information on a continuum of plausibility based on existing knowledge.The point at which your prior knowledge makes you question a claim is variabledepending on your knowledge of the topic. The tricky part lies in the use ofexisting relevant evidence, evidence some people making quite extraordinaryclaims may be unaware of. This is where pseudoscience takes its roots. Scientificinquiry is often born out of voids in knowledge. Sometimes these ideas can bedeveloped into scientific hypotheses and reliably tested. However, in caseswhere the ideas or claims are non-falsifiable or don’t adhere to validscientific methodology, they remain pseudoscience, and outside the realm of truescientific study.

In analyzing why or how pseudoscience is perpetuated, onemust consider its basis. Pseudoscience can persist for a number of reasons. For thoseof us who have had the scientific method practically carved into our craniums,identifying pseudoscience might seem easy. However, for others it may not. Ibelieve whether we accept or reject ideas is influenced by our educationalbackgrounds, which are continually broadening. It’s possible that many peoplecan’t differentiate between information based in science and information thatis not. A recent report by the Thomas B. Fordham Institute highlighted thispossibility when they evaluated state science education standards. They foundthat 76% of U.S. states scored a C or below (on a scale of A through F) whenrated on various science education criteria. Furthermore, pre-existing assumptions,presumptions and perceptions can make it difficult to identify extraordinaryclaims, and can predispose some people to unquestioning acceptance of theseclaims. When we fail to be skeptical of serious transgressions of materiallogic, we debase the currency of science and education.

When pseudoscience gains support, actual science loses it.The persistence of pseudoscience can be particularly threatening because it hasthe potential to affect public support for scientific research and developmentas well as influence policy. Scientific literacy is becoming increasinglyimportant in light of controversial science issues. In the way of politics, itcan help citizens make more informed votes. Examples include influencingdecisions on whether to allocate tax dollars to climate change research, orpromote the teaching of evolutionary biology over intelligent design in publicschools. Less obvious, society depends on educational institutions to leveragetheir bets on a new generation of innovators, who can be skeptical enough todiagnose societal problems, and creative enough to solve them. Science andskepticism can help us progress with the changing world we live in.

A few weeks ago, Christian Gunning blogged about Science andCertainty (http://unm-bioblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/science-and-certainty.html), highlighting that scientists are trained to seek certainty in aworld where it is increasingly elusive. As good scientists we should be skepticsand readily acknowledge and embrace the underlying complexity in our world. Forthose who may be new to skepticism, it is critical to remain conscious that abody of knowledge is never truly static and explanations are subject torevision as new information is revealed. This is not to say that extraordinaryclaims won’t ever be accepted. Evolution by the process of natural selectionwas extraordinary in Darwin’s day, but is now supported by an overwhelming bodyof evidence. Investigations into these claims simply have to stay true to thespirit of science with utilization of skepticism while adhering to rigorousstandards of evidence. Evidence fuels the cyclic nature of science.

As my coworker said, “How cool would it be if…?” Althoughher initial reaction regarding the alleged mammoth in present-day Siberia wasincorrect due to incomplete knowledge, she learned something and her enthusiasmhighlighted a fundamental value in the nature of scientific inquiry. Evidencebuilds on curiosity builds on evidence builds on curiosity. Sometimes greatscientific discoveries start out with the phrase, “How cool would it be if…?” evenif the ideas are extraordinary.

Andrea Chavez will be a Master’s student in the fall of 2012in Chris Witt’s lab. She thanks her good-humored co-worker andfriend for believing, even if only for a minute, that a wooly mammoth iswandering the vast wilderness of Siberia.

On the yellow brick road to … graduate school

2012-02-16T09:16:00.001-07:00

The hissing of gloveboxes, venting of argon tanks, and churningof the vacuum pumps for Shlenk lines are all unique sounds that come from my laboratory. They can be intimidating to a passerby, but after3 years they are now comforting and familiar to me. I have been interning inthe Advanced Materials Laboratory at Sandia National Laboratories since I was 16. I work under the advisement of Dr. Tim Boyle,in an inorganic chemistry and nanomaterials laboratory. Our group focuses on developing tailor-madeprecursors for nanomaterials that can be used for a wide variety ofapplications, such as rechargeable batteries, radiation detecting materials,drug delivery systems for cancer treatments, and much more. This internship helped me realize that Ienjoy experimenting and being able to apply my knowledge and skills to solvereal-world problems. My advisor – seeing howmuch I enjoyed research –suggested that I consider a graduate program in MaterialsScience and Engineering so I’d be able to conduct my own research one day.

To be honest, I had never considered going to graduateschool. Naturally, this meant that I hadno idea what I had to do to get in and what I would have to do while I wasthere. So, in an age where we are surroundedby a plethora of media and digital information, I did some online research to geta handle on what it takes to get into graduate school. By doing a cursory search, I quickly learnedsome basic requirements for applying to graduate school: excellent GRE scores, asolid and interesting essay, and top notch recommendation letters. I found anumber of useful resources for the graduate school interview process and prospectof selecting schools (1, 2, 3).

But, I also found out that choosing a graduate school isclearly not as straightforward and simple as choosing where to do yourundergrad. There are many considerationsthat complicate this decision process: picking an advisor, research interests,and availability of funding just to name a few. For me, the main factor is the choice of the graduate advisor.

Typically, the advisor works with a student to determine hisor her research focus and helps define the program of study. The specific role of an advisor, however,varies between disciplines and also depends on the unique relationship thatdevelops between the advisor and student. For a student, the relationship with this advisor can last long aftergraduation, through future collaborations and ones entire professional career. Thus, the role of the graduate advisorcomplicates the school selection process by adding a whole new dimension notpresent in undergraduate, and one that should not be taken lightly.

Choosing the right advisor for me is crucial in determiningmy success (or failure) in graduate school. Not only do I have to choose between professors that are conducting differentsorts of exciting research, but I also have to consider their personality andmanaging style. It’s going to beinteresting to try to find someone that is very work-driven, yet still knowswhen to relax and enjoy life outside of work.

Fortunately, I’ve already hadthe opportunity to work in a laboratory and interact with a spectrum ofpersonalities. These experiences haveshown me that I work best when I have the freedom to explore variousexperimental paths and learn from my mistakes. Thus, I need to find an advisor that will help foster my learning,instead of micromanaging my every move. Ialso know that I definitely want a professor that is usually available and thatI would feel comfortable approaching. Withinthe next few months, I have the daunting task of somehow figuring out these personalityand management characteristics of potential graduate advisors and then decidingwho I want to work with.

Interviewing with prospective professors is the next stepfor me in this elaborate process of getting into graduate school. Although I will get a chance to talk topotential advisors and their graduate students, it feels overwhelming and seeminglydifficult to gauge how well I would get along with a complete stranger in sucha short interaction. Hopefully, thesevisits will help me decide the best school and advisor for me. Strangely, all this is only the beginning ofan arduous journey to earn a PhD. I amunsure of what to expect in my pursuit for a higher education, and I only hopethat the decisions I will make in the next few months will the ‘right’ ones forme.

Thu Doan is 19 yearsold and will be graduating this spring from UNM with a B.S. in Chemistry and aB.S. in Biology. She hopes to find aschool and community that is a good fit for her and a lab she can callhome. She also welcomes any words ofadvice about graduate school, pursuing a research career in science, and anythingabout life in general.

Not just for boys

2012-02-09T08:35:00.000-07:00

When someone says the words "vertebratepaleontologist", what is the mental picture that comes to mind? Is it arugged man in a hat wandering around in the desert, looking for dinosaur bones?We largely have Hollywood to thank for this imagery. Dinosaurs are charismaticand "sexy", and (apparently) so are scruffy men in fedoras. Or maybeyour mental image is more along the lines of the character Ross from Friends, the cute über-nerdwho also studies - wait for it - dinosaurs. There is a very narrow stereotypeof what a paleontologist is. Many of us do in fact study dinosaurs, but notall. I myself am more inclined to study fossil rodents and mammalian carnivores.I have also done very little work in the desert, but all the time I've spentcollecting fossils in caves has been equally fun and exciting. I get to combinetwo of my favorite things in the world, fossil hunting and caving. I thinkthat's a pretty sweet deal. If anything bothers me about the perceptions of"what a paleontologist looks like" or "what a paleontologistdoes" it is the fact that it's usually perceived as something that onlymen do. The two most famous celebrity paleontologists, Jack Horner and BobBakker? Men. Alan Grant from JurassicPark? Also a man. Ross Geller from Friends- yet another man. I'm a woman, and I happen to know lots of really phenomenal womenpaleontologists, many of which are leaders in their field of research. I couldname them but, sadly, you probably wouldn't recognize many of them. This is acommon problem not just in my area of research, but science as a whole.

Vertebrate paleontology, like many sciences, has traditionally been a male dominated discipline. It is a hybrid of the biological and earth sciences. Interestingly, biology as a whole has a fairly equal distribution of men to women, at least in terms of the number of conferred PhD degrees. The percentage of women receiving PhDs in biology between 1999 and 2003 was 45% (compared to 32% in chemistry, 18% in engineering, or 14% in physics, according to the 2010 report, Gender Differences at Critical Transitions in the Careers of Science, Engineering, and Mathematics Faculty). The real disparity in biology between genders appears further down a very leaky pipeline, where people are applying for jobs and tenure. Shockingly, when you look at full tenured biology professors only about 20% are women! What's going on here?

Percentage of womenacademics in biology. Women consistently hold fewer positions in progressivelyhigher ranking academic jobs, despite comparable performance with men. Althoughthe percentage of women biologists in all levels of academia is increasing, itwill probably be a long time before it reaches parity with male colleagues (Gender Differences at Critical Transitionsin the Careers of Science, Engineering, and Mathematics Faculty).]

Academic job statistics for 1999-2003. Across math, engineering, and science fewer women are applying for academic jobs than there are women in doctoral pools. However, women receive more interviews and job offers than would be expected by chance (Gender Differences at Critical Transitions in the Careers of Science, Engineering, and Mathematics Faculty).

Thesimple fact is that there are much fewer women applying for traditionalacademic jobs than there are women receiving PhDs. Where are these women disappearingto after graduation? Perhaps to government or private sector jobs. At first Ihad a difficult time understanding why men would be less likely to go afterthese alternative, and sometimes better paying, jobs. However, one possibleexplanation may be that women aren't courted to faculty positions asaggressively as men. One of the ways in which news of a job circulates isthrough word of mouth. If a field such as biology is already dominated at the seniorlevels by men, it's not difficult to envision a perpetuating cycle whereby menhear about jobs more frequently.

Theremay also be a biological/life-history reason for the gender disparity in academics.Let's assume that the average age for achieving a PhD is somewhere between28-34. This means that while newly minted PhD graduates are applying forpost-doctoral or faculty positions some women are hearing their biologicalclocks ticking away. In an ideal world the decision to have a family shouldn'tnecessarily prevent a woman from having a career. However, the social pressureto be the primary caregiver to children is in direct conflict with prioritizingone's career because there is an expectation in academia to maintain consistentproductivity. If a woman takes time off from academic work to have a baby, itis incredibly difficult to make up for it. I have heard all sorts of storiesfrom women about the professional gymnastics that go on to balance academicwork and family: everything from back logging data to publish papers duringmaternity leave, to bringing small children along to academic conferences. Perhapssome women with are favoring jobs that are more accommodating. That leavespeople like me with fewer female academic role models.

Sexismin academics is not a thing of the past. It isn't something that "used toexist but isn't a problem anymore". I've heard my fair share of storiesinvolving harassment and impropriety that make me cringe. Inappropriatelystupid comments during professional meetings only begin to scratch the surface. Women are routinely judged based uponhow they look and not the content of their research, even at the most progressiveof institutions. Right here at UNM, I watched a very successful femalescientist interview for a faculty position, and somehow her outfit and highheeled shoes became a topic of discussion and debate. We never once discussedthe wardrobe of the male interviewees. This kind of thing isn't necessarilyintentional, but in many ways subtle discrimination is even more difficult todeal with and overcome. It seems innocuous, and so it is tolerated.

Mostwomen academics I know can relate stories about feeling marginalized. As a TA,having a student hit on you can be awkward. Tactless lectures on sexualselection can be uncomfortable to sit through. I've even seen audience members sayoutrageously rude and disrespectful things to young female speakers duringprofessional seminars; things they would have never said to someone who wasolder and male. Thankfully, this kind of behavior is rare and has neversucceeded in discouraging me. I attribute this in part to having had tremendousprofessional and personal support from role models of both genders. I alsoattribute it to the fact that I've met brave academics who openly fight backagainst this kind of nonsense.

Better role model? Paleontologist Barbie, before and after. Despite not being able to change certain features on the doll to make her more realistic, such as her absurd 0.66 waist to hip ratio, the 2011 Smithsonian edition of Paleontologist Barbie provides an improved image of female paleontologists. Packaging for the new doll more accurately depicts paleontology. The back of the box also describes some of the science involved with fossils and studying ancient life. Most importantly, female paleontologists helped advise the scientific content of the packaging

Iconsider myself fortunate in that, unlike some of my predecessors, I have neverfelt overtly discriminated against. There have been improvements in academiaover the past few decades, including an increase in the number of women beingelected into the National Academy of Sciences. I am resolved to beingoptimistic about my career future. Good mentors and role models have been tremendouslyimportant to me while finding my footing in the academic world. During the mostrecent annual meeting for the Society of Vertebrate Paleontologists I attendeda workshop designed to help women get jobs. There were several men from thesociety who turned out to offer their advice and mentorship. These participantsseemed genuinely concerned about the gender disparity in vertebratepaleontology and in science in general. I view this as a sign that progresstowards equality will continue to be made.

I amvery enthusiastic about my chosen career path, and I try to share thisenthusiasm with the students I teach. I love talking about how much fun myresearch is, and I'm always trying to recruit students (you know who you are,and you know you want to help me with my field and lab work). What I rarelytalk about, however, are the challenges. Despite progress, I can't help worryingabout my future . The last thing I want to do is discourage anyone; but, maybeI should be more transparent about my fears. It's a fine line, and this blog ismy first public expression of my concerns. I want these young women to know thatscience and academia IS a viable option and that it's getting better. The youngmen in my classes also need to see that there are many capable women in academicswho are deserving of respect. I want to plant that seed as early as possible.

Melissa Pardi is a PhD student in biology in the Smith lab.She has no regrets about being ambitiousin a male dominated field of research. She also doesn't own a fedora.

I am an Imposter

2012-02-01T08:53:00.000-07:00

I imagine my sixth grade teacher, who considered me amediocre student, got a good laugh from my essay on "What I want to bewhen I grow up." I wanted to be abiologist who studied endangered species in the wild, because the only way tosave a species is to know more about them. (I had recently seen a documentary on field biologists studying pandas,and was likely parroting the program). Atthe time, I had grand plans of spending northern summers in "therainforest" (wherever that was) and winters in Antarctica. Exactly which endangered species I would savewas unclear.

As the years went by, I kept hearing how hard it is to get ajob as a wildlife biologist, and I began to believe my dream to beimpossible. I also began to believe thatthe reason my goal was unlikely was not because it was unachievable, butbecause I was not smart or hardworking enough. By chance, as an undergraduate I got a jobdoing basic labwork in a museum bird collection at my school, after the firstchosen applicant fell through. Theprofessor I worked for led an archaeology and zoology field course to Tobago (anisland off the coast of Venezuela) and I signed up. I loved every second of this first experiencedoing real research. Towards the end of the field course, myprofessor asked me if I would like to do a master's degree with him, studyingthe birds of Trinidad and Tobago. Icould not believe he thought I wasgood enough for graduate school. I couldnot believe he wanted to take me onas his student. But it was true.

When I started graduate school, I felt terrified. Everyone in my cohort was much smarter, moreexperienced, and more qualified that I was. Many had master's degrees, most had years of experience working in labsor the field, and several had prestigious NSF fellowships. Unlike the other students, I had only gottenin because my advisor liked me and saw how hard I worked in the field; I didnot have the typical qualifications. Thebrilliant insights my fellow students made amazed me, and I was afraid of whatwould happen when they caught on to the fact that I was not making such intelligentcontributions to the class discussion. WouldI be shunned when they realized that I didn't belong? I faked my way through. We took a mini course on alternativereproductive tactics from a leader in the field. I had no formal training in behavioralecology, and knew everyone would scoff at my ignorance. I used my bird watcher's knowledge of odd birdbehaviors to fool the class into thinking I knew something about sexualselection. But how long could I possiblykeep pretending that I actually knew something about broader ecological andevolutionary theory?

After about a year of graduate classes, I no longer felt terrifiedof saying something dumb every time I opened my mouth. About a third of what I said was completelystupid, but I had learned that if I said it with enough confidence, peopledidn't seem to notice. I had a new fear:data! Do you remember the first time youwere confronted with the intimidating sight of a spreadsheet full of data, withno idea how to go about analyzing it? I hadnever before run an ANOVA (and, for that matter, didn't really know what anANOVA was, other than something done in lots of papers). I hadn't yet taken a statistics course, myadvisor was doing research on some remote tropical island, and I was too afraidof revealing what an idiot I was to ask older graduate students for help. That would certainly make them think I shouldnever have been accepted into the program. So I muddled and struggled through stats on my own.

Finally, I had a conversation with two brilliant women in mycohort that I thought had graduate school all figured out. They admitted they felt inadequate anduncertain, and were just barely scraping by. I was shocked. The thought thatother people felt the way I did was foreign. They seemed so very confident and put together, and I admired their workso much. These women truly seemed toknow what they were doing.

You see, no one had explained the imposter syndrome to me. Apparently, it's common for studentsand other professionals to feel that they are frauds who haven't earned theirown success, despite ample evidence to the contrary. Grad students with imposter syndrome viewtheir successes as the result of luck or their ability to deceive others intobelieving that they are competent, rather than the results of hard work,intelligence, and talent. They also tendto believe that they are the only ones facing this problem; their colleagues haveearned their place at the table, but the imposter is only faking his or her waythrough.

I have found that knowing that others feel like imposters,too, is invaluable in combatting my own sense of inadequacy. Continued positive reinforcement is alsohelpful: one successful grant can be written off as luck, whereas two might bean indication that I'm not completelyincompetent. But for me, the bestmedicine for imposter syndrome is talking with my peers. Hearing their struggles with understanding aconcept, figuring out how to analyze their data, or finding the motivation tofinish a daunting project reminds me that I am not the only one facing these troubles. Sharing my own problems helps relieve stress,leads to useful advice, and lets my friends know that they are not alone,either.

I'm not saying that I've completely recovered from theimposter syndrome, but after over five years as a graduate student, I feel thatI've started to get the hang of academia. I still have my imposter moments, though. Last fall I was talking with a non-academicfriend about my fear of my upcoming comprehensive exams. When she asked why, my reply was that Ididn't know everything I thought I should. Being a good friend, she asked me what I did know. I explained thatwhile I knew all the basics of evolutionary and ecological theory, everythingfrom undergraduate biology, and basic bird biology, I was still fuzzy on somedetails, and there was still much about bird flight mechanics and physiologythat I didn't understand. When theyrealized this, my committee was sure to think that I shouldn't be getting a PhDin this stuff. She gave me a funny look,and said, "but aren't you still a student? By definition, doesn't that mean that you still have things tolearn?"

It took me a long while to realize that learning to ask thequestions that make you feel stupid, and to muddle through on your own whenthat doesn't work, is a huge part of becoming a scientist. When you combine the scariness of this newlearning style with the feeling that you've got to fool everyone into believingthat you belong, graduate school can become a rather terrifying place. I often still feel like that 11 year-olddreaming about studying animals in the rainforest, not really knowing what thatentails or means.

Natalie Wright is a PhD candidate in Chris Witt's lab and PiBBs Fellow studying bird evolution,morphology, and biogeography. Some daysshe really does believe that she passed her comprehensive exams on her ownmerit, without deceiving her committee. She welcomes stories about your own imposterexperiences.

Science and Certainty

2012-01-29T14:25:00.005-07:00

"The concept of pattern or regularity is central to science. Pattern implies some sort of repetition, and in nature it is usually an imperfect repetition." --R. MacArthur, 1972, Geographical Ecology.

As a scientist, I find myself both defending science's explanatory power, and reminding my fellow scientists of how much we don't yet know. Science has come a long way since ancient times. We understand so much more about the world around us than ever before. Yet science is changing rapidly, and what was unassailable truth yesterday will be a quaint relic tomorrow. The tools and theory that scientists use to understand nature are rapidly changing, forcing us to think creatively about the world around us. Here I compare math, biochemistry, and ecology as three very different ways of looking at the nature's more-or-less imperfect repetitions. I believe that each tells a unique story about nature's patterns. Together they give a fuller picture of what we don't yet know, and how to better deal with nature's intrinsic, irreducible uncertainty.

I came to ecology late in life. In all honesty, I had no idea what ecologists actually did until recently. Wikipedia tells me that, "ecology is the scientific study of the relations that living organisms have with respect to each other and their natural environment", and that's exactly what my current research entails. As a disease ecologist, I study the week-to-week variation in human illnesses over many years and hundreds of miles. Personally, I'm more interested in patterns of reproduction and competition over space and time than disease control itself. Both are important, yet it's the underlying reasons behind pathogen behavior that most interest me. Teasing out patterns and their causal mechanisms from the inevitable noise and uncertainty of natural populations is a difficult but rewarding challenge. Understanding these mechanisms is what drew me to science in the first place.

Years ago, I began my academic career at the University of Georgia studying biochemistry and molecular biology (BC&MB) and mathematics. Looking back, I was attracted to the high level of certainty in both fields.
Math abstracts nature into perfectly regular patterns, whereas BC&MB leverages the regularity of abiotic (non-biological, physical) processes, of chemistry and physics. It is this very predictability, I believe, that has led us to depend so heavily upon them in the modern world.

The immutable rules of logic and the underlying mechanisms of life opened my eyes to the world around me. By the time I graduated, I'd begun to see patterns all around me: in the kitchen, for example, where the interaction between hydrophobic oil and water is mediated by proteins to form mayonnaise every time they're blended together. Or in the sky. Ever noticed how the rate of change of day length is shortest around the solstices and fastest around the equinoxes, year after year? Trigonometry tells us that both are sinusoids, with each as the derivative of the other. Biochemistry and math in action!

That mathematics and biochemistry are, respectively, among the oldest and youngest of the sciences is noteworthy. Euclid's 300BC Elements is still relevant today, and even used as a textbook in some curricula, such as the nearby St. Johns College. A textbook that's over 2,000 years old and still up-to-date? In mathematics, the "experimental apparatus" is the human mind, as well as writing utensils, libraries and schools. All of these were available in one form on another, if sometimes scarce, in antiquity, and so it is small wonder that mathematics was the first science. More striking, perhaps, is the remarkable longevity of its discoveries. If you're looking for immutable laws, geometry is about as close as you can get.

The modern revolution in BC&MB is, by comparison, a mere infant. Its metaphorical conception was the 1953 discovery of the structure of DNA by Francis, Crick, Wilkins, and Franklin; its ultimate birth came in 1983 with Mullis's development of PCR. Throughout, this field was built upon a firm foundation of physics and chemistry, both in theory and in lab equipment. It has rapidly taken advantage of new advances in other fields, such as Nuclear Magnetic Resonance (NMR) spectrometry, atomic force microscopy, fluorescence microscopy, and supercomputing.

How is it that physics and chemistry arrive at clear-cut general laws? Broadly speaking, general laws tend to be additive, or linear. For a given mass, adding more force increases the acceleration by the same proportion. Double the pressure on a gas and you either halve its volume or double its temperature (or some mixture thereof). A key consequence of linearity is that randomness averages out. I don't need to know which molecules are moving faster or slower to know the temperature of the air around me: an average suffices (this can be thought of as a "mean field approximation").

In many ways, ecology is so interesting because it lacks the certainty and clear general laws found in other, more reductive sciences (though some general laws of ecology have been proposed; see, for example, J.H. Lawton, 1999). Ecologists do often distinguish between "predictable" abiotic (non-living) processes and "messy" biotic processes. Temperature, evaporation, weather and climate are all key abiotic processes that affect organisms and are governed by clearly-established physical laws. Yet ecological systems are not easily reduced to deterministic chemical and physical subsystems.

Nonlinear, multiplicative interactions are the rule rather than the exception in ecology. Take, for example, the reproduction of two fictional species. The March Hare has 2 offspring per year, while the May Hare has 3 offspring per year. Given an initial population of 10 of each Hare and 10 generations, what is the ratio of March to May Hares? Need a hint? The May Hare wins by a long-shot. In the real world, we regularly observe exponential population growth and can measure the rate of reproduction. Still, not every creature has the same number of offspring, and that randomness can add up over generations. Also, there's only room and food for so many creatures, and so a range of interactions between species can determine the outcome. It turns out that something as simple as reproduction isn't simple at all! All of this goes to show that, in nonlinear systems, randomness often _doesn't_ average out, and the "mean field approximation" isn't very meaningful!

As Natalie Wright highlights in her earlier BioBlog, "Useless?" (http://unm-bioblog.blogspot.com/2011/12/useless.html), ecology can help MC&MB make sense of the inevitable messiness of biological systems. Ecology, for example, suggest there is no single "cure for cancer" or "addiction gene". Both cancer and addiction are the end results of complex interactions between complex entities, and likely have many causes. In fact, examples of nonlinearity are common in many biological systems. Two aspirin may work better than one, but ten or more could land someone in an emergency room. Even abiotic processes such as weather and climate show surprising complexity and nonlinearity, as chaos theory highlights. Overall, collections of interacting entities, be they cells in an organism or people in a society or gas molecules in a hurricane, often exhibit behavior that is more than the sum of the parts. In the words of physicist P.W. Anderson (1972), "More is Different".

Increasingly, scientists in a wide range of fields are stumbling across problems where randomness and feedbacks are important, and clear-cut laws are elusive. Scientists are often trained to look for certainty, while certainty has grown increasingly elusive. Whether in the lab or the hospital or the field, nature is complex, and its repetitions are imperfect and often messy. To some extent, math and statistics and computer models can help us account for uncertainty and peer deeper into nature's machinery. By looking outside our own scientific disciplines, we gain an appreciation for science as a whole, and acquire insights into our own questions. By embracing uncertainty in the world around us, we begin to see the forest for the trees, and to ask bigger, better, and more interesting questions.

Christian Gunning is a Ph.D. candidate in Dr. Helen Wearing's lab and a former PiBBS fellow in UNM's Department of Biology. He enjoys turning data into figures and long conversations with computers, usually after sunset.

References:
Anderson, P.W. More is different. Science 177, no. 4047 (1972): 393-396.
Lawton, J.H. Are there general laws in ecology? Oikos (1999): 177-192.

The Best Journey in the World

2012-01-18T16:46:00.001-07:00

I neverintended to become an Antarctic researcher, but the opportunity was essentiallydropped in my lap. I had becomefascinated with extremophilic bacteria as an undergraduate and applied tograduate school at Montana State University to work with one of the topresearchers studying Yellowstone National Park’s thermophiles. I was swooped away by Dr. John Priscu though,who invited me to join his lab instead to work on the other extreme: cold. It was an offer I could not refuse. He had five years of support for me to jointhe recently minted McMurdo LTER (http://www.mcmlter.org), and to work in a fieldthat at the time was wide open. Most ofthe previous microbiological research in Antarctica had focused on algae and thefew bacteriology papers that had been published by then came to the conclusionthat the soils were sterile or that bacterial abundance and diversity arelow. Dr. Priscu suggested that if Ijoined his lab, I would have the opportunity to conduct seminal researchinvestigating the factors affecting lake bacterioplankton distribution andproductivity. Besides, he told me, Icould always work in Yellowstone for my postdoc.

I would beworking in the McMurdo Dry Valleys of Antarctica, a 4800 km² regionof the continent that has been ice-free for the past 4 million years. The Dry Valleys are located in the shadow ofthe Transantarctic Mountains, between the East Antarctic Ice Sheet and the RossSea. I’d seen no pictures of the area,but was told that it was so much like a moonscape that NASA used it as atesting ground for its autonomous vehicles and robots. The annual temperature averages -20 °C and precipitationis less than 10 cm per year. As aconsequence, this is an ecosystem dominated by microorganisms, the highesttrophic member is a nematode. The lakes Iwould be sampling are perrenially covered by 5 meters of ice and we would haveto drill through them to collect water. Theconditions and environment were more extreme than I knew existed on Earth orthat humans could endure and I was desperate to see my new study site. However, I couldn’t jump on the web to seepictures because it was only 1994 and the books about Antarctica that I found inthe library focused on penguins and the South Pole. I was scared that I may not be able to handlethis adventure and wrote a will (though my only possesions were a bike, futon,and a truck).

We left forAntarctica in early October, flying commercial airlines to Christchurch NewZealand. In Christchurch, we were issuedour extreme cold weather gear (a five pound parka, furry gauntlets, humongouswhite boots, and other essentials) and enjoyed our last day of civilization andwarm weather. We filled ourselves withfood, smells, and images of vegetation. The next morning I boarded a C5 military craft and found my seat afterclimbing over 2 helicopters that were being transported down to the ice for ouruse. We landed only 5 hours later on thesea ice in front of McMurdo Station, the largest research station onAntarctica. We were lucky because wewere on the first flight of the season, which required a large and fast cargoplane. Normally we would fly the smallerand slower LC-130, and if weather was bad in McMurdo, the plane could boomerangback to New Zealand at the point of no return (half a tank of fuel) for a totalroundtrip to nowhere of 8 to 10 hours.

My firstdays in Antarctica were largely spent in training. There was a class for everything: fieldsafety, radios, trucks, and even how to sort your trash. McMurdo was very military back then. We had weekly rations of alcohol and ourshowers were limited to two minutes (known as Navy showers) every otherday. The Galley had two dining rooms,one for the enlisted and the other for Officers and scientists (known asbeakers). After a week, we were finally cleared toescape to the field. I was eager toleave McMurdo and be in the field. As I flew out to camp for the first time, ina helicopter stuffed with our gear for the next few months, I was frustratedbecause I could not see out the windows. But when we landed on the shores of Lake Bonney, I was thrilled todiscover where I would live for the next 3 months! I found myself mesmerized by the lake ice,which near the shore was clear, blue, and smooth. I got down on my knees to see how deep Icould see through the ice. I looked upto see the tall dramatic mountains blanketed by alpine glaciers that surroundedme. In front of me was our camp, whichincluded a Korean War jamesway (with bullet holes), and three labs, each aboutthe size of a closet. We would sleep inmountain tents. The weeks that followedfilled me with awe. Site after site wasbreathtaking and I marvelled at how the ice would sing to us by expanding andcontracting in response to the position of the sun. I enjoyed camp life. I adjusted to the cold and sleeping in atent, and appreciated being immersed in science and my project.

Day to day lifeback then consisted of hiking or flying by helicopter to a sampling site,collecting our samples, and then working in the lab back at camp to filter andprocess the water. Most of the analyseswere done in the lab at McMurdo Station or at our home institution. Alterntively, I would conduct weeklongexperiments to investigate nutrient limitation, or temperature and salinityadaptation and had aroung the clock timepoints to collect. I remember many late nights in the labworking alone enjoying my new research and much comraderie among members of theMcMurdo LTER. We got to know each otherwell because the remote conditions brought us together. Free time was spent telling stories overcoffee in the jamesway or hiking the surrounding mountains. At night after work was done, we had smallparties that might include a kazoo jam session or a championship for one of theabsurd games we invented ourselves. Mydearest colleagues arose from those days on the ice, many with whom I stillcollaborate.

I returned to the ice two more times as a graduate student, including onceduring the winter-spring transition, which made me one of the first twoAmerican women to spend August in the McMurdo Dry Valleys. That season was particulary exciting becauseI had never seen Antarctica in the dark, my other trips were during the Australsummer, which means 24 hours of daylight at 77°S. The southern lights were a treat best enjoyedby lying on the ground to stare at the sky, nevermind that the temperature was-55 °C. Many days were too cold or theweather was too poor for the helicopters to fly, but we had an ambitioussampling plan and limited time. We weretrying to determine what happens to the plankton communities in the lakes inthe dark and as the sun begins to appear in the valleys. Rather than miss a day due to weather, wewould man-haul hundreds of pounds of gear on sleds to our next site several kmaway, just like the early explorer Scott. That season was my favorite trip to Antarctica. There were five of us on our team and weworked well together. We worked hard,collected some of our best data, and had an unforgettable time.

After finishing my doctoral fieldwork, I worried I would never return toAntarctica. Ten years have passed and Iam now a Co-PI on the McMurdo LTER and funded to work in Antarctica until atleast 2017. Antarctica doesn’t seem soremote to me anymore. Internet access isno longer dial-up slow and I even Skyped into my class back at UNM lastsemester. The military is mostly gone,the culture has changed, and I only go down to the ice for a few weeks now. Ofcourse there is still much to discover in Antarctica. Though the McMurdo Dry Valleys were oncehailed as a “simple” microbial system, the complexity of the ecosystemcontinues to unfold for us.

Cristina Takacs-Vesbach is anAssociate Professor in the BiologyDepartment. After finishing her Ph.D. in1999, she did do her postdoctoral research working in Yellowstone. She now conducts research on the microbialecology of microorganisms living at both extremes of temperature found onEarth.

Useless?

2011-12-19T11:40:00.003-07:00

"BIOL 203: Evolution and Ecology was the most uselessclass I've taken." When one of thestudents in our class said this a couple weeks ago, the room exploded indiscussion. It seemed all theundergraduates agreed, and all the grad students were upset (because westrongly disagree). This sentiment seemsto be shared even among our best biology undergraduate students, particularly thoseinterested in biomedical fields. Ibelieve that the universality of this view means that we as educators havefailed at one of our more important jobs. We should be teaching our students theimportance and relevance of evolution and ecology hand-in-hand with their majorprinciples. We have no one to blame forthis widespread opinion of our irrelevance but ourselves.

Why should our biomedical students understand and appreciateevolution and ecology, beyond soothing our own fragile professorial egos? Evolutionary and ecological concepts andmethods are and will continue to be instrumental in addressing many of theworld's most pressing problems: from emerging deadly diseases anddrug-resistant superbugs to crop-decimating pests and widespread crop failuresdue to a changing climate. Want todevelop a vaccine for HIV? You hadbetter have a good understanding of how retroviruses evolve if you hope toproduce a vaccine that works for longer than a year or so. To prevent the next swine flu from becoming apandemic, we need a good ecological model of viral transmission, efficacy ofanti-virals, and pace of evolution of drug resistance. To overcome the superbugs we've alreadycreated with our overuse of antibiotics and to prevent furtherantibiotic-resistant strains from evolving, we must understand the evolutionarypressures we've created that drive the evolution of these bacteria. We overuse antibiotics in human medicine,people do not always finish their antibiotic series, and antibiotics areoverused in agriculture on healthy livestock. Understanding why these practices areproblematic is the first step in addressing them to prevent (or delay) theevolution of additional drug-resistant strains.

Many farmers are currently losing the arms race withpersistently evolving pests that have the potential to decimate theircrops. New pesticides are developed, towhich the pests evolve resistance, and so on, in a never-ending cycle thatDarwin could have predicted. Even genetically engineered corn is no match against the evolution of resistance in pests - something evolutionary biologists fully expected and proposed solutions to(that were ignored). A broaderunderstanding of both natural selection and community ecology can help developbetter pest management regimes that are cheaper and more effective than thepesticide companies' spray-till-they-die solution and biotech companies' use-only-genetically-engineered-cropsapproach (which, of course, does benefit pesticide and biotech companies).

Ecosystem services are important for our environment and arehugely relevant to health. The bacterialiving inside of us (most well known are probably our gut flora, but we've gotbacteria all over) don't just passively utilize our bodies without bothering orhelping us. Our gut flora help with digestion, synthesize vitamins, and improveabsorption of important minerals. Theyprovide vital services to us, and when we disrupt our bacterial ecosystems, ourhealth often suffers. Many antibioticscause stomach pains and diarrhea because they kill all of our friendly gutbacteria, which interferes with our digestion and leaves us open to invasion bynot-so-nice bacteria. Viewing our bodiesas ecosystems might help to better understand how our bacterial communitiesaffect our long-term health.

Evolutionary biology has been instrumental in resolving bothcivil and criminal court cases. We'veall heard about the usefulness of DNA profiling. Most people are less familiar with the ideathat the complex analyses used to determine evolutionary histories of organismsare also used to identify the history of viral strains, including transmissiondirection. Phylogeneticists have beencalled upon to determine the origins and relatedness of particular strains ofHIV. The resulting phylogenetic treeshave helped convict rapists and attempted murderers, and to resolve lawsuitsinvolving accidental transmission from health care professionals to theirpatients (see Scaduto et al. 2010 for specific examples: http://www.pnas.org/content/107/50/21242.abstract).

With so many examples of how evolutionary and ecologicalknowledge can provide solutions to real world problems, it's important that weinform our students how and why evolution and ecology are important to them. How do we convince our students that ecologyand evolution are important? We need togive them more examples of evolutionary and ecological processes that arerelevant to the majority of our students' interests. I'm not saying that we should abandon all ofour classic examples of lynx-and-hare dynamics and Darwin's finches, or stopusing our own research to illustrate concepts. But the reason we like these examples so much is because they speak tous as researchers interested in the fundamentals of ecology and evolution. We should also incorporate examples in ourteaching that illustrate the importance of evolution and ecology in medicine,agriculture, public health, criminology, and so on. These are the topics that speak to ourdiverse population of undergraduate biology majors. If we can't be bothered to convince our ownstudents that this knowledge is relevant, how can we expect to be takenseriously by congress, regulatory agencies, or other policy makers?

What are your favorite examples of the importance ofevolution and ecology to solving global problems? What are some ways you think we couldincrease interest among undergraduates in ecology and evolution?

Natalie Wright is a Ph.D. candidate in Chris Witt's lab andPiBBs fellow in UNM's Department of Biology. She will never stop using bird examples in her courses, but plans toengage more of her biomedical students by trading some bird examples forexamples more relevant to their interests.

The Funding Games

2011-12-08T09:06:00.001-07:00

As a Ph.D student in biology, I don’t have very much time toread for pleasure. However, I recently read a haunting series of books called The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins.The books take place in a dystopian futuristic society in which, every year, 24children are selected by the central government to fight to the death onnational television. (The movie adaptation of the first book is coming out this spring, and the trailer is a great introduction to the story.)Throughout the series, the author, whether intentionally or unintentionally,has inserted commentary on our own society. The parallel that struck me,however, is one that I am sure the author did not intend. With the high stakes,the small chance of success, and the pitting of peers against one another, The Hunger Games reminds me of thestruggle to find funding for scientific research.

If you’ve been following politics in the last few years, youmight have heard some jaw-wagging about cutting the federal budget deficit by,among other things, reducing “wasteful” spending on scientific research. In thetable below I’ve listed some figures that I hope will convince you that this isa pretty poor plan. Federal funding for basic scientific research in the UnitedStates makes up about 0.8% of the federal budget – hardly enough to reduce our15 trillion dollar deficit significantly. The idea that scientists are overpaid on the backs of taxpayers has been so prominent, and is so ludicrous, that it was recently riffed by The Daily Show. While some federal research funding does pay salaries, a single grant might payfor a graduate student, a postdoctoral researcher, and a small salarysupplement for a senior researcher, as well as funding materials, equipmentrental, travel to field sites and conferences, publication fees, overhead forthe institution where the research takes place, and many other necessaryexpenses. No one, to my knowledge, gets rich off of federal research grants.These grants are awarded to very few of the researchers who apply for them;only 22% of National Science Foundation grant proposals were funded in 2011,for example. That means that 78% of scientists who applied for funding to carryout their research didn’t get it.

So what happens when we fund only 22% of research that ourscientists propose? Well, there are probably some proposals that didn’t deserveto get funding, for whatever reason. However, when you consider that most ofthe applicants for that funding already have Ph.D’s, professorships, and, inmany cases, tenure, you can see that the vast majority of those proposals areprobably good. Given that, who should we fund? Should we fund proposals thatare innovative but risky, or less creative but sure to be successful? Do wefund proposals that continue ongoing projects that provide valuable long-termdata, or fund new projects that will address new questions? Should we fund basicresearch proposals to answer fundamental questions, or research that appliesmore directly to human interests? The end result is a lot of potentially good,interesting, valuable research never gets funded and never gets completed.Creativity and innovation are slowly being squeezed out of scientific researchby this system. Cutting “wasteful” funding for basic research further would be catastrophic.

Scientists who can’t get funding for their research risklosing their positions in the academic community, either by not gettingpost-doctoral positions, not being hired for professorships, or not gettingtenure. Even if we can prevent cuts to the NSF budget, competition for grantsis so fierce and getting grants so important, that early-career scientists likeme have a serious chance of not making it in academia. Many students are unableto find positions after earning their Ph.D’s, and end up working in entry-levelpositions outside their fields. Graduate students like me dread finishing theirdegrees as a result. After spending years learning to follow your intellectualcuriosity and scientific passion, the loss of control over your own destiny isabsolutely terrifying. Once you graduate, well, welcome to The Funding Games,and may the odds be ever in your favor!

The Buck Stops…	Number	Source
US National Debt	>15 trillion dollars	http://www.usdebtclock.org/
US Debt this year	>1 trillion dollars	http://www.usdebtclock.org/
Estimated 2011 Federal Budget	3.69 trillion dollars	http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2010/02/01/us/budget.html
2011 Federal Research Spending	143.9 billion dollars	http://www.aaas.org/spp/rd/fy2012/total12c.pdf
2011 Spending on Basic Research	29.128 billion dollars	http://www.aaas.org/spp/rd/fy2012/total12c.pdf
Research Spending as % of Federal Budget	3.9%
Basic Research Spending as % of Federal Budget	0.8%
NSF Grant Funding Rate	22%	http://dellweb.bfa.nsf.gov/awdfr3/default.asp

Shawn "Fred" Whiteman is a Ph.D candidate in biology, studying paleoecology and biogeography. She will forgive you for thinking she's a guy. But, she won't stop reading young adult fiction, no matter how much her adviser badgers her to publish.

Peer-Reviewed Life

2011-11-26T07:31:00.001-07:00

Think about where you are right now in your life. Are you contentwith the path you have chosen? How about 5 years ago? Are you still on the samepath grinding away with the intention of accomplishing your goals? How about 10years ago? For some of us, the answer might be yes. But I have a feeling themajority of people (including myself) cannot even remember what path they wereon 5 years ago, let alone 10. Things are constantly changing, and thus peopleare forced to adapt or watch life pass them by. This is just how the worldworks. This is also a great way to look at science. The practices and commonknowledge that were the norm in the past are now seen as outdated. New thingsare discovered every day. Some people however, resist this idea of change and theconcept that the world is in constant flux. They refuse to believe thatyesterday’s knowledge could be falsified tomorrow. In many ways, a person’slife resembles the same processes seen in the scientific method. If peoplecould only realize that their life is like ongoing research with theopportunity to serve as a learning tool for themselves and others, they would betterappreciate all that science does and has to offer.

How can you relate the unpredictable nature of science to aworld full of different people, with different cultures, education levels, and differentexperiences? This is not an easy task. The only guarantee I can assume foreveryone on Earth (now approximately 7 billion, give or take a few) is that theywere born and that they will die. So we have a beginning and an end.

At the beginning of a person’s life, they are constantly inawe of their surroundings. They are like a sponge soaking up everything. Theyare constantly making observations.Over time, they grasp a loose understanding of how the world around themfunctions. They learn what they enjoy and what they do not like. They areinfluenced by their family, friends, culture, etc. At some point, they decidewhat they want to do with their lives (an always elusive decision). They maythen formulate a plan or hypothesis/predictionthat will help determine if they can be successful. Plans change though andmost people change career trajectories several times. The outcomes of someone’slofty goals or results may conflictwith the resources available to that person. This is another fact of life.Nothing in life is fair. Some people are born into families and situations thatprovide every opportunity to succeed (lots of funding, time, and staff), whileothers come from broken homes or lack the same opportunities. To be fair, thesame results can be achieved, it just takes some creativity and dedication withthe methods. Based on the methodschosen, results will be produced and that person must evaluate them. They mustdecide if the path they have taken so far in life has produced their desiredoutcome (Conclusion). Thisunderstanding leads to the discussionportion of their life. Did their methods support their desired goal? If theanswer is yes, are they content or do they want to magnify that outcome? If theanswer is no, do they need to change-up their methods? Or from this process,should they take what they’ve learned and embark on a new path entirely? This isthe process a person experiences throughout and it continues until and afterthat person finds their purpose in life.

Eventually though, there must be an end; everyone dies. Doesthis mean that all the memories and trials of life encountered go to waste? No!That person’s life, no matter how short or long serves as its very ownscientific journal. Inside are peer reviewed memories from family, friends,colleagues, etc. who can look back upon and recall all the achievements anddisappointments encountered by that person. Sure, some people’s lives mayappear bland when compared to others, but just like in science, not everythingcan be flashy. Even if a project does not produce “sexy, headline producing”results, it’s still important because it happened. It serves a purpose forguiding others and preventing repeatable mistakes. This is how science works.Layers of knowledge build upon older layers of knowledge. This is what allowsfor new, exciting discoveries to be found.

We implement this method every day. The scientific methodserves as the tool that we use to shape our lives. Some may not see it that wayand that’s fine. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. All I know is ifI’m not learning from those in my life, I’m wasting a valuable resourceavailable to me. I want to learn all I can so that the journal of my life isone that my peers can learn from and that I can be proud of.

Matthew Otero is a 5^thyear undergraduate graduating in the Spring with a B.A in Biology and a B.Sin Psychology. He is open to anything life might throw at him for the future,but if everything goes well in the next few weeks, he will be teachingsomewhere next year with Teach For America.

Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Hyde

2011-11-17T08:10:00.001-07:00

I wake up in the morning to the sound of my buzzing alarm.My first instinct is to ignore it and sleep another hour because after all I doneed my beauty rest! I roll over to dream about shopping and spa days, butthose fanciful ideas unfortunately only last a split second. I hop out of bed,throw on my clothes and make-up, grab my breakfast and lunch, and run out thedoor to start my daily 40 mile commute via car, then train, then bus, thenfoot to my final destination. At this pointI’m still in good spirits because even though I’ve gone through all of this, I’mheaded to my oasis. It’s not a body of water surrounded by palm trees and ahammock (in which I someday hope to have), but a lab filled with centrifuges,scales, solutions, and most importantly liver, lung, and colon cancer cells.(Try to describe that in an elevator speech and see the looks you get.)

My day at my oasis first begins with the growth of several differentcancer cells. After careful incubation and close monitoring, a solution is addedto the cells to loosen them from the petre dish so that they can be scraped andplaced into test tubes. The number of live cancer cells are counted through amachine, and a different solution is added to the test tubes. After severalother tests, the live cells are placed in a freezer until needed. I then make a gel between two thin pieces ofglass that contain tiny slots. These tiny slots are then filled with micro-litersof cancer cells that were in the test tube after they have been defrosted. Theglass along with the gel and the cells are then amplified by an Enduro powersupply machine at about 300V in order to transfer the cells onto the gel, whichin turn is amplified again to transfer the gel onto a membrane. The membrane isthen washed. Finally, antibodies and proteins from rabbits, mice, and goats areadded (not at the same time) to test which cells react the most to theseproteins in either a positive or negative way.

I’m on a time schedule to culture, treat, blot, and imagethese cells because even though I get paid for this, I have to go to my “other”job which I don’t get paid for. This “other” job is far more time consuming,and stressful. Quite frankly it leaves me scratching my head trying to rememberwhy I volunteered for it in the first place. This “other” job also takes mefrom my oasis in paradise and throws me into a spiraling whirlwind ofunpleasantness. This job is the dreaded college degree. It sucks you down ablack hole of “never finish until you’re 30, have at least $50,000 worth ofdebt, and sign off your first unborn child to the University of your Choice.”Ok, ok that sounds pretty harsh and over exaggerated I admit. But, an articlefrom the New York Times and a few other studies that have been conductedhave shown that a college degree (especially in the sciences) is not cheap oreasy. Many who start out in Science quickly change their major or drop out ofcollege all together. Now I was raised to be neither cheap nor easy, and I definitely know the definition of hard work. I wasn’t expecting a pat on theback and a diploma neatly placed in my hand. I also wasn’t expecting to pay mytuition every semester just to end up taking one meaningless class afteranother.

Current requirements to receive a biology degree at theUniversity of New Mexico include a minimum of 128 earned credit hours satisfiedfrom the University, of which 96 credit hours must be earned from the Collegeof Arts and Sciences. After completing these requirements as well as thoserequired for a Biology degree, one might think they’ve done all they needed todo to move on in life and walk the line of ever waited success, but wait,there’s more! On top of all of this, an extra 42 credit hours worth of classesmust also be completed at the 300 level or above and accepted by the College ofArts and Sciences. That’s a total of 170 credit hours; difficult to do in fouryears unless you carefully plan out your degree as a freshman. There also isrumor that this will be increasing to over 50 within the next year for incomingfreshmen. Mind you, some of the required biology classes can count towardsthese extra requirements, but if you follow the simple path of a biologydegree, you will not fulfill all of the requirements. I have heard many sadstories from individuals who have done this and failed to walk the line as theyexpected.

I do feel that a well-rounded individual will do better inthe workforce, and most importantly life, but I do also feel that theUniversity should give you some options. A student should have the option tochoose between a more focused course of study and a more liberal education.Sure, most students come out of high school not knowing what they want to donext, but how about those who already know what they want out of life? What about those specifically interested inmedicine with only a certain amount of time to complete a degree due to moneyand other constraints? It seems the best answer may be to switch your major tosomething less time consuming, take all of your required medical schoolclasses, and move on with your life with less debt as possible.

Somehow as a kid I always knew I had an interest in science.I didn’t like the outdoorsy type of things, but enjoyed reading my mother’snursing books and the idea of helping people. This interest only grew leadingup to a Neuroscience internship where I learned of all the amazing things thatcan and can’t happen with your brain. Fast forward to today, where I still havethat “twinkle in my eye” and the motivation to succeed. I do feel that I have the ability to discoverthe unknown like a cure for cancer, diabetes, or simply just help others whoare sick and in need. I just wonder how many others who were interested inscience have had a similar dream and have deterred simply because they can’tafford to take these extra classes required to get a science degree.

Everyone hits a rut in their lives. We all know life isn’tfair. For that reason, I will continue to strive to finish my science degreewith a minor in chemistry and possibly math. I will apply to medical school aswell as graduate school to receive my MD/PhD. I refuse to be the statistic inthe New York Times that switches their college major just to save money andreduce the workload. For these reasons, I am a sort of Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Hyde,pleasant doing what I love, but unpleasant as I go through the process ofjumping the hoops required to do what I love. All I have to say is after finallygetting home from 12- hour days, thank you mom, dad, and of course my littlebrother for telling Dr. Jekyll to stick it where the sun don’t shine andbringing Ms. Hyde back into reality.

Essence Hand is an undergraduate currently otaining a B.S. in Biology with a minor in Chemistry. She hopes to graduate within the next year and a half and go on to pursue her M.D./PhD.

Puppet Master

2011-11-09T17:16:00.000-07:00

What if you saw a squirrel thatwas colored like the rainbow? What if you came across a bear that stood up andstarted to sing Disney’s The Circle ofLife? What if you came across a dog using the toilet (and not to drinkwater)? Yeah, we’d all be standing therewith our mouths hanging open, clearly having a did that just happen moment. Though theseexamples are a bit extreme, things like this happen all the time in nature:creatures going against their normal behavior because they’re being influencedby parasites.

Check these out:

I’ve never considered mushrooms as dangerous! But, this brand of parasitic antfungus is quite deadly. Infected ants will abandon their walking lines insearch for low hanging leaves. But not just any leaf will do, the leaf has tobe in the right environment that is conducive to the growth of the fungus. Asthe ant searches, the fungus is slowly eating away at the ant’s insides. Whenthe ant finds a good spot, it bites down on the leaf, letting its body dangle.The ant dies in this position which is perfectly angled for letting the fungusspores ride the wind to the fertile ground below where more ants are able towalk. Thus, the circle of the fungus’ life continues.

This isn’twhat a spider web is supposed to look like. How are flies supposed to gettrapped in the webbing with all the holes? Answer: they’re not. This web wasn’tmade for the spider to eat. It was actually made as a nest for the wasp larvaethat are slowly eating the innards of the spider. By the time the spider is nothing more than abone-dry husk, the larvae will have a nice safe cradle to lie in.

Shade snailsaren’t normally seen hanging out on in broad view on plant limbs like this. Sowhy do they? Because, they have parasites on the brain. Little worms arecompelling this snail out of its safe, cozy hiding spot into the light of daywhere it will get eaten by a bird. It just so happens that the bird is the nexthost in the life cycle of the little worm.

Cockroaches and wasps aren’t normally best friends. But, this wasp is actuallyabout to turn this roach into chopped liver for its larvae. The wasp stings thecockroach in the belly which temporarily paralyzes it. Then, the wasp carefullystings the roach again in the head with venom filled with neurotoxins. Justlike that, the cockroach is under the wasp’s control and is lead to the wasp’snest for feeding time.

Yes, that wormis coming from exactly where you think. Hairworms are known for makingterrestrial crickets commit suicide. The worms mature inside the cricket andwhen they’re ready to emerge, the worms cause the cricket to drown themselvesin water where the water-requiring worms can emerge safely and find mates.

[pic of bright ant] Though thisisn’t a rainbow colored squirrel, this species of ant is normally all black. But,ants like this are infected with a roundworm parasite. The larvae found in theant’s gaster - rear part of the abdomen – are actually a bright yellow. The eggsare so tightly packed into such a small space that it thins the gaster and,with the help of sunlight, cause it to appear the bright red berry color. Theseants are controlled to hold their heads down and their hide parts up so thatthey appear like a yummy snack for birds. It’s no coincidence that birds areonce again the next host in line in the roundworm’s life cycle.

In nature, it’s all aboutsurvival of the fittest. Yet, there are some creatures with adaptations thatallow them to stack the deck in their favor. These are just a few examples ofhow parasites have mastered the art of puppeteering. With evolution always underway, I wonder howsoon it will be before parasites can control humans. Scary thought, right?

The following is a talk show exchange inspired by the blog above.

Insect Interactions:a day time talk show that tackles any range of problems that plagues insectsfrom heart to heart talks to figuring out who’s the larva’s daddy, with hostBennett the Bee.

Bennett: Welcome, everyone to Insect Interactions! I’myour host, Bennett the Bee. Today’s topic is about host and parasiteconfrontations, where we’ll give hosts a chance to confront their parasites.That’s right; it’s like Jerry Springer but with a lot less sound effects.Today’s guests are an unlikely pair. Ladies and gentlemen, put your handstogether for the host of the two: Alex the Ant.

[Crowd cheers]

Alex: *waves handand takes a seat* Thanks for having me Bennett.

Bennett: and for his parasite: come on out, Rita theRoundworm!

[Crowd boo’s, Alexrolls his eyes before glaring at Rita]

Bennett: Let’sstart with you, Alex. What did Rita do to you?

Alex: She messedwith my gaster!

[Crowd gasps]

Bennett: Shedidn’t?!

Alex: An ant’sgaster is their pride and joy. Ants of my species are black, and my family wasfamous for being dark black! The queen loves it. But all that changed when she[points at Rita] turned me into a freak!

Bennett: Let’ssee what happened to Alex on the viewing screen.

[Oh’s and awe’s fromthe crowd]

Bennett: Ohgoodness, that’s quite a number you did on Alex, Rita!

Rita: It was animprovement!

Alex: You’re amonster!

Bennett: Goahead, Rita! Tell us your side of the story!

Rita: I’ll admitit. My hubby and I took refuge in Alex’s gaster, as he calls it. Best honeymoonever! So great, in fact that my poor Ricky passed away after. Although, he’llbe missed – bless his soul – he did leave me with all my babies. They got sobig that there was so little room in Alex’s gaster. It’s not my fault he was barely big enough tohold all of us.

Alex: You allalmost stretched me to pieces! You all were so heavy that I became slow incomparison with everyone else. It was really hard to keep up! My gaster wasstretched so thin that I could literally see you in there. I thought my darkcolor could hide them but they were bright yellow and with the added light fromthe sun, I was a bright red. Image it! A bright red spot in an ocean of black!It was so humiliating! I had to start foraging away from everyone else. They’dalways make fun of me; I finally understood how Rudolph felt. If only it hadbeen my nose!

Rita: Ok, Ok. Iadmit I might have gotten carried away with all the eggs I had in you. But, whocan blame me?! Times are tough! It’s survival of the fittest!

Alex: And that’snot even the worst bit . . .

Bennett: There’smore?

Alex: Yeah, sheused her mind control to make me wag my gaster around.

Bennett: Mindcontrol?

Rita: Whoa there!(1) Some call them neurotoxins, but they’re my natural secretions! I can’tcontrol them anymore than you can; (2) you didn’t wag your gaster around, youjust held it higher than the rest of your body, and (3) you liked it!

Alex: Onlybecause I was under your mind control! It’s not like I had a choice! I’m notnormally like that! I swear! I’m a good ant; I’m a good ant . . .

Bennett: So . . .Rita. “Natural Secretions,” really? Don’t you think that fight was a littleunfair?

Rita: Like Isaid, “survival of the fittest.” Whose side are you on, anyway?

Bennett: Heylady, I’m not in it. That’s why my name’s Bennett.

Rita: That makessense.

Alex: I stillhear the caws in my nightmares!

Bennett: Caws?!Wait, do you mean “bird” caws?

Alex: Yes! A birdmistook me for a berry and ate me, and .. .

Bennett: Wait, weneed to see this on the view screen.

[Oh’s and awe’s fromthe crowd]

Bennett: I could see how a bird wouldmistake you for fruit, but continue.

Alex: As I wassaying, a bird ate me and that’s when everything went black. I couldn’t see, Icouldn’t move, but I could hear those awful caws! CA-CAW! CA-CAW! Over and overand over . . .

Bennett: Care tocomment, Rita?

Rita: Oh that.Well, the next host in our cycle is a bird, so that does make sense. But he wasprobably about to be digested if he hadn’t survived. Can’t be sure, I was toobusy functioning as an incubator for my eggs.

Bennett: So you were there?

Rita: Yeah. Normally, the bird’s digestion would’ve crackedup Alex, here, like an egg. Then, I’m released into the bird where I would passmy eggs through the bird’s feces. Then some other foraging ants would haveended up collecting my eggs, fed them to their ant larvae, and the wholeprocess would have started all over again.

Alex: I could have had a full life serving my queen,foraging with my buddies. But, you ruined it! You ruined everything! And youwere planning on infecting more of my kin!

Rita: Hey, don’t blame me . . . blame your dad for feedingyou infected food!

Alex: You’re dead! AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

[Alex launched himself at Rita. Chairs wereupturned as a fight ensues! The crowd chants “Jerry! Jerry!”]

Bennett: Knock it off you guys! We’re going to commercial!Commercial!

D'Eldra R. Malone is a biology undergraduate who is fascinated with parasitism.

Too Math-y

2011-11-04T12:56:00.003-06:00

Recently, I was a teaching assistant for UNM’s undergraduategenetics lab (BIO 202). In lab we conducted an experiment involving ears ofcorn. The students counted the number of wrinkled versus smooth as well aspurple versus yellow kernels, and from those numbers determined the genotype ofthe parental plant. To determine the genotype, the students had to use a simplestatistical test that compares the expected against their observations. As I wentover the lab protocol, I asked my group of 24 students, “Who knows how to do achi-square test?” I received a sea of blank stares from my classroom of futurescientists, and then a student said with a perplexed look on her face, “When didbiology get so math-y?” I stared back with a look of shock. I thought, “Sincewhen was biology not math-y?”

For too long, biology has been considered a “soft” scienceby the general public. As the stereotype goes, the hard-core nerds go intophysics and chemistry and the not-so-hard-core nerds go into biology andpsychology. And, of course, all biologists naturally suffer from “physicsenvy.” Perhaps it’s because even we biologists sometimes think of biology as asofter science.

But biology is ahard science. We need to use sophisticated calculus and statistics to discernpatterns in the natural world. We study stochastic, unpredictable systems,which presents many statistical and analytical challenges. Try modeling biotic interactions;it’s not easy by any means.We have some of the most nuanced-filled data you’ll ever see, and a seeminglyinfinite number of interactions that need to be accounted and/or controlledfor. Thus, we need rigorous tools to analyze and model our data.

Sub-disciplines within biology, such as animal behavior,genetics, ecology, conservation, evolution, biogeography, paleobiology, andphylogenetics (just to name a few), all incorporate calculus and statistics. Weuse equations and complex models to describe predator-prey interactions(remember Lotka-Volterra from ecology?), population dynamics, speciesrelatedness, and to determine the most evolutionary stable strategy foreverything from sex ratios, to communication between inter-specific species, tokin selection. Furthermore, we are often interested in phenomena that combinesub-disciplines, and must incorporate analytical tools outside of our corefield of study.

I think a lot of us get into biology because it is such atactile, observation-driven science. We get to study everything from gooey,slimy amphibians, to insects that inspire sci-fi movies, to cute, fuzzy mammals.But math is crucial to understanding and supporting any hypotheses based onwhat we observe. Math, in a biological context, can be extremely fun! Determiningthe parental genotype for a kernel of corn is just the beginning.

Meghan Balk is a second year Ph.D. student in the Smith Lab in the Department of Biology at UNM.

The Elevator Speech

2011-10-27T10:32:00.003-06:00

I am a biology undergraduate who finds it difficult toexplain what I do in the lab, although it may be especially difficult because Iwork in the anthropology department. Iprobably don’t have all the classes and experience that could help mearticulate everything I do. My peers know I’m studying biology like them, butthey look at me oddly because they don’t know what a biologist would do in ananthropology lab. I think it’s because anthropologists are associated witharchaeological digs or studying people’s cultures in remote villages in SouthAmerica or Africa. Most people don’t realize that there are a lot of otheraspects of anthropology. Recently, the governor of Florida, Rick Scott, made astatement that his state didn’t need any more anthropologists and that thegovernment should only fund “pure” math and science degrees. This is an exampleof some of the confusion that’s out there when it comes to understanding whatanthropologists study.

Let’s look at anthropology here at UNM. There are three differentdegrees offered; archaeology (the study of past human societies), ethnology orlinguistics (the study of the culture of people), and evolutionary anthropology(the study of how evolutionary forces have shaped human variation). Obviously there are those that fit within thestereotypical roles of anthropologists, but there are others that study a widerange of topics relating to humans and primates. For instance, I work in agenetics lab within the anthropology department where I sequence non-coding regionsof DNA and analyze those sequences. Theproblem is when I try to give my spiel to explain what I do; I often get a lookof confusion. So now this has become my goal, to figure out how I am going beable to say my spiel and not get that confused look.

I’ve been told that this spiel is called my elevator speech.Its purpose is to deliver an interesting summary of what you do in the timespan of an elevator ride, approximately two minutes. Sounds simple, but Ihaven’t quite got it down yet, even though I’ve been working on it since Istarted the job last January. In my search to find my elevator speech, Ifrequently ask other undergraduates what they do in their jobs, in the hopethat I can pick up some lingo or some helpful verbiage. I find myself trying toconcentrate on the words that they are using more than listening to what theyare saying (sorry). I’ve got to admit, I’d really like to have a recorderhidden in my backpack so I can replay their word choice over and over.

It was suggested that I talk to my friend, a graduatestudent in biology, to see if I could gain some insights from her. When I mether for lunch with the intention of soaking up her knowledge she happened toconfide in me that she’s not really sure how to explain what she does whenpeople ask her. Yeah, me too! It helped my ego to hear that I was not the onlyone who struggled with explaining what I did, but that didn’t help me with mydilemma. I’m happy to report that my friend figured out her elevator speechbefore the end of the summer, which means there is hope for me.

This past summer I spent numerous hours reading journalarticles given to me by the graduate student I’m working with. This has givenme some direction. I decided to try to explain what I do to a family friend, thinkingit’d be a safe place to try and I got the usual response, “you know, I thinkthey’re still looking for a cure for cancer, Ann. I can’t believe that your labhas been given a grant to spend money.” It’s obvious to me that my explanationstill needs a lot of work, since I wasn’t able to express what I am studying orits importance. I know it’s important, I just wish I could explain it.

So what am I studying?

After trying to come up with it on my own, I realized that Ineeded help. So I popped into the lab and I had a conversation with my gradstudent mentor and this is what we came up with together:

Our lab is looking at geneticsequences to asses Ancestry Informative Markers (AIMs) of 100 populationsaround the world to better understand our evolutionary past. An AIM is definedby specific variations that are found in human DNA sequences within aparticular region or population. This variation indicates where geographicallya person’s ancestry lies. In other words, we are looking for unique rare allelesspecific to one population, meaning these alleles originated recently. We lookat non-coding DNA which is free from natural selection. This acts to decreasethe variation present in the region we are sequencing. The differences we seein the absence of selection are due to mutations and random genetic drift. This variation can be maintained inpopulations for long periods of time making it ideal for tracing populationhistory. In finding these variants we discover few variations, so maybe we areall a lot more similar than most realize. Our work is building the foundationof where we come from, it could lead to medical treatment of humans asindividuals, and perhaps someday help get rid of the divisions of race andgender. And that within itself is an important reason for me to study humans(anthropology).

Ok, this is the first time I tried to explain it fullywithout going into a lot of detail on the techniques we are using to acquirethose sequences. I may need to eliminate the day to day and go for the biggerpicture; the larger implication of the study rather than getting stuck on thedetails. In discussing this with my grad student mentor, I realize I still havea lot to learn. I think I might have a good starting point. And maybe in time,I’ll have a decent elevator speech after all, rather than looking like a deercaught in the headlights.

Ann Stevenson is a Biology Undergraduate working in DrJeffrey Long’s lab in Anthropology. She spends her time sequencing non-coding regions of thehuman genome and figuring out how to explain the importance of that work.

A Truly Scary Sight

2011-10-21T18:16:00.002-06:00

You open the creaky door and sneakinto a dark and quiet room. You are pleased to find out that you are alone toget on with your work without interruption. You look about the room to see rowsand rows of covered tables. Some may wonder what are on the tables, but youknow. They are bodies. Rows and rows of bodies. Asyou take your first step towards your table of choice you hear something.Someone is trying to open the door! The intruder throws open the door and flipson the lights. In a rush, not one intruder, but a crazed group of first yearmedical students enter. In an instant, your time to study anatomy in peace atthe cadaver lab is up before it ever began.

Thecadaver lab is a place of much excitement and intrigue for many medicalstudents and pre-medical students. Having the opportunity to explore the humanbody in person is an experience beyond value. Granted, there is much that onecan learn from a National Geographic series on the human body or from a textbook in a class; but, nothing can replace the hands on experience that acadaver lab provides.

Theuse of real bodies for educational purposes has always been an emotional topic.People know that if their mother, brother or other family member donates theirbody to science that it will be used, not laid to rest. This discomforts manypeople, yet there is a flip side to that coin. Would you want a surgeon to gointo your body trying to remember a picture in a book? Or would you rather theyhad already explored a real human body? Whichof these scenarios presents greater risk of injury or death to the living?

Asecond year medical student at the University of New Mexico School of Medicinerecently told the local UNM newspaper, “As a student, it was pretty incredibleto be able to learn in that way [using cadavers], because it would beimpossible to learn what we did from a textbook” and “I am very grateful”. I have personally experienced an anatomy labwith cadavers, and can add my own testimony to the effectiveness of studyingreal bodies. Our bodies are all wired in slightly different ways, which makesit impossible for a doctor to treat one ailment the same way every time. Yet,when a doctor sees many of the different ways in which bodies can be wired,through the hands on study of anatomy, they are more capable at finding thebest treatment for each person. This is why cadavers in anatomy labs are soimportant for medical and pre-medical classes.

Althoughmany know of the importance of cadavers, there is still a truly scary sight. Inpre-med anatomy labs across the country, some colleges are opting to replacecadaver work with plastic models and online tutorials to go along withtextbooks. A few years ago, UNM removed human cadavers from undergraduateanatomy labs. Although models are good for learning, they are not the best toolavailable. It is like learning to ride a bike through reading and watchingsomeone on the internet do it. There is no replacing going outside and actuallygetting on the bike. The loss of cadaver work has often taken place because ofthe difficulty in obtaining and maintaining bodies. But has achieving greatnessever been easy or without difficulty? Institutes of higher education shouldstrive to provide just that, the highest level of education available and weneed to support it. We should encourage the use of real bodies forundergraduate medical education, and pressure colleges to maintain that levelof excellence.

Whenpeople agree to donate their bodies to science, they are aiding the nextgeneration of students in becoming the best doctors possible. The knowledgethese students gain through the study of a real body may one day help thatstudent provide care to the child or grandchild of a donor.

Octoberis a month of ghouls and zombies, with witches riding their brooms and mummieswalking the streets. Yet, this Halloween season as we put up skeletons in ourwindows and eat devilish treats with our friends, we should be very gratefulfor the dead.

Nathan Thomas Blacker is a UNM Biology undergraduate who is planning a career in medicine.

Scientific Perspiration

2011-10-13T08:06:00.003-06:00

The inventorThomas Edison famously once said, “genius is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration”. I think about this often inregards to science because, as those of us who do it for a living know, thereis a hell of a lot of tedium involved and not so many of those “aha!” moments. Laboratorystudies, which may or may not play out, can take days or weeks tocomplete. Museum work can also involvedays, weeks or months of careful measurements. Field projects generally involvemany painful hours of drudgery, and often get carried out out over several years. Data entry and manipulation consume untoldhours. I don’t include the analysis and writing phase here, because that is mostly (!) enjoyable.

As a graduate student, I studied thepopulation dynamics of a rodent at a remote field site in the Mojave Desert. I spentabout 3 days a month on this project for almost 4 years. Each time it took me most of a day to driveout since I had to deal with the often nightmarish LA traffic. Along with other activities, each trip saw mesetting live-traps in the evening and checking them just before dawn. I shaded thetraps by putting them in cardboard half gallon milk cartons to buy a bit more time in the morning; the intense sun could fryanimals in metal traps in short order. It took about 3 hours to set all thetraps and another 2 hours just to check them. When I caught animals it took several additional hours to collect information on the animals and thenrelease them. Frustratingly, there was a period of about 4 months at the heightof a drought in the early 1990s where I caught nothing despite all thiseffort. The 30+ hours devoted to thisproject each month yielded only a single value on a plot of population dynamicsover time. (Okay, it actually yielded a bit more than that, but work with mehere.)

More recently, my lab celebrated amilestone event: the measurement of our 100,000th fossil woodrat fecal pellet. In honor of this, we had a party wherecelebrants brought 100,000 of something. The entries were quite creative, but that’s another story. Leaving aside the question of why we would measure the fossilizedremains of long-dead rats, it’s clear that took a long time to achieve. There was lots of sitting behind a computer with calipers and loud music. But, behind the measurement of each of thosepellets was other effort: days spent traveling to remote mountain regions ondirt (or no) roads, days spent hiking with heavy packs along ridges or climbingmountains looking for likely collection sites, hours spent hacking samples awayfrom the rock substrate and then processing and cleaning them in the field,hours in the lab spent soaking, power washing, drying, and then shiftingsamples through collections of geological sieves, and finally the tedious taskof hand-sorting the dried and processed samples to separate the pellets fromthe midden matrix. Indeed, measuring the pellets represents the endpoint and arguablyleast time-intensive aspect of the work.

The amount of work that underlies anyproject seems to surprise those new to science. It certainly seems to surprise new undergraduates in my lab. What seems even more remarkable to them isthat we like doing this. Well, mostof the time. Despite public perceptionsto the contrary, scientists are generally quite passionate about their work. Thereis something immensely satisfying about collecting data, whether in a lab,field or museum. I suspect this reflects the fact we are all secretly addictedto the adrenaline rush that comes when we finally see the end result. The overused phrase “joy of discovery” prettymuch covers it. For me at least, the ~1% of time I get to spend basking in an “aha!” moment is enough motivation todrive the other 99% spent doing tedious tasks.

Felisa Smith is a Professor in the Biologydepartment who is spending her fall break organizing and manipulating data files.

In search of ghosts.

2011-10-05T09:44:00.000-06:00

October 1986. The Mets and Red Sox are engaged in perhaps the most iconic World Series games ofall time. I was just 11 years oldas I watched the ball get by Buckner. Within a few days my beloved Mets would go on to win the WorldSeries. Little did I know thenthat while I spent that fall glued to my television set, a killer fungus was atwork wiping out amphibian populations in the distant mountainsof Costa Rica some 3000 miles south. It would be 2 years before herpetologists realized frog and salamander disappearances were not caused by local fluctuations, but were partof a devastating global phenomenon. Another 13 years would pass before the fungus would be identified. In the meantime thousands of populations disappeared and numerousspecies went extinct; the tropical night lost its chorus of frogs.

Dead frog from Panama.

Dead Taylor's Frog from
Volcan Barva, Costa Rica.

These last three decades have been devastating for many of theworld’s frog species. The fungus, Batrachochytrium dendrobatidisor Bd for short, is highly virulent and kills infected frogs by inhibitingelectrolyte transfer across the skin, eventually leading to cardiac arrest. Bd has been moving wavelike souththrough Central America. It has now reached easternPanama, the last uninfected region in Central America. The disease persists in the environmentand continues to negatively impact frog populations for years after the initialoutbreak. Some species are not asseverely impacted by the disease and persist, albeit in lower numbers. Some highly susceptible species may develop immunity orrespond behaviorally to cope with this devastating disease, providing some hope oflocating relict populations.

National symbol in Panama, Golden
Frog (Atelopus zeteki) from
El Cope.

Male Golden Toad from
Monteverde, Costa Rica.

Some of the most well known species to succumb to Bd include theGolden Toad of Costa Rica and most of the 113 species of colorful Harlequinfrogs (genus Atelopus). Less colorful, but no less interesting species alsodisappeared en masse including 85% (29 out of 34 species) of the large, brown,stream-dwelling Craugastor rugulosus cladefrom Central America. Today all that is left to document the existence of these frogs are a few scientificpublications, photographs, and some specimens housed in museums. This list of casualties barely scratches the surface of the frog families and generathat have declined and disappeared from Central America.

In 1999, as a recent college graduate with a need for adventure and exploration and no set plan for my future I moved toCosta Rica to study tropical herpetology. When I arrived in Costa Rica I was aware of amphibiandeclines and the number of species that had disappeared from this tropical landscape. Still, I had no ideahow severe the problem was and what is was like to not find species you were looking for. Using museum records and publishedaccounts I visited dozens of places around the country looking for the numerous“missing” species. When I leftCosta Rica three years later I had become all too familiar with not finding species that were oncecommon and abundant. A littledisheartened and frustrated I left Costa Rica to study frogs in Panama for amaster’s degree under the tutelage of Dr. Karen Lips, then at Southern Illinois University at Carbondale.

Newly described and presumed extinct
C. evanesco from Panama. The name
means vanishing frogs.

It was 2002, and our study site in central Panama was ahead of the diseasewave. I spent two magical summers in Panama catchingover 80 species of amphibians, many of which were new to science! We studied the population dynamics andcommunity structure of stream and forest frogs in anticipation of the arrival of the fungal disease. For my part I was able to conduct theonly study on a member of the above-mentioned Craugastor rugulosus group as well as experience firsthand what thefrog world was like before the killer fungus invaded. Sadly, in late 2004 the fungus arrived. My study species, along with many others,shortly went extinct.

As you may sense there does not seem to be muchoptimism in finding “missing” species. Visiting a site that is Bd positive is eerily quiet. Only a handful of species persist, somemaybe holding clues in their evolutionary history that can help mitigate thecurrent crisis. But many scientists do hold out hope that pockets of “missing” frogs may persist; I am one.

I regularly spend large parts of my current fieldtrips visitingdecline sites searching for missing species. Sometimes my optimism is rewarded. On one such trip in 2009, I was walking a small stream onthe western flank of Volcan Barva in the central valley of Costa Rica. This is a place where more than six specieshad vanished. I was with studentsfrom UNM and the University of Costa Rica. We had not heard or seen a single frog despite hourssurveying numerous streams, an all too common experience now in CentralAmerica. As usual I was laggingbehind the group, searching every leaf, crevice and boulder for frogs. Then I saw her! Sitting on a large moss and fernfestooned boulder in the middle of the stream. I did not recognize the species, but I knew what species group she belonged to. The frog was perched on the side of the boulder with herback against a small fern clump. Silently I grabbed and placed her in a pillowcase. A belt-sander could not have removed the smile from my face. Itturned out the last time this species (Craugastor fleischmanni) was foundwas in October 1986, when I was an 11 year old boy running around the housescreaming about the Mets World Series win.

Recently rediscovered Holdridge's Toad from Costa Rica.

This “rediscovery” of a missing species is not an isolated incident. Over the last few years a handful of species once thought gone for goodhave been found at isolated sites in Central America. In fact, a few months before we found C. fleischmanni, a group of Costa Ricanbiologists located a breeding population of Holdridge’s toads, a species thatwas declared extinct by the IUCN! Eventhough the rediscoveries are small compared to the vast number of species lost,each rediscovery leads to more species and populations that can be placed into captive breeding facilities. Through these means it may eventually be possible to see frogs inhabiting habitatswhere they have been absent from for the last 30-years.

Mason Ryan is a graduate student in Steve Poe's lab in the biology department at UNM. He studies frogs.

51% . . .?

2011-09-28T11:55:00.003-06:00

Any scientist can attest to thefact that science leaves much to be discovered. We aim to understand the worldaround us and to explain the nature of life’s phenomena. Our world is so largeand complex that we cannot understand how it all works, but we pursue ourstudies in the hopes of uncovering as many details as possible. The science ofmedicine is one division of the broad field of science, and despite what thepublic might think, there is still a surprising amount that we don’t know.

Recently,my professor for Sociology of Medical Practice shared a statistic aboutmedicine that left me speechless. He was a member of the board at UNM Hospitalwhen they were deciding whether to allow Native American medicine men topractice on site at the hospital. As one might expect, the debate over thistopic was quite lively, especially since it involves both science and culture. Someof the board members insisted that it should not be allowed because they felttraditional medicine is “non-scientific” and therefore should not be practicedin the hospital. In rebuttal, another board member stood up and wrote “51%” onthe chalkboard; he looked to the board members and asked if anyone knew whatthat meant. No one had a clue as to what he was alluding. He went on to explainthat 51% of what we consider to be “modern medicine” is not scientifically understood. As a student working towardspharmacy school, I was dumbfounded. I’ll even admit that it hurt my pride justa bit. With all of the advancements in medicine and medical technology inrecent years, how could this statistic be true?

Overthe next few days, this new information was like a plague in my mind. It seemedto jeopardize the credibility of modern medicine, reducing it to simply a trialand error process. I began to understand why it is often referred to as “theart of medicine”. Ultimately, I came to realize the flaws in my own thoughtprocess. I was expecting entirely too much from the science behind modernmedicine. Of course we can’t prove everything and know every detail - there’sentirely too much to know since medicine is a dynamic and developing field.

Withsome drugs, we may not know exactly how they work, but we know they do work.These drugs would be a division of the 51% since they are not fully understood.One prime example is aspirin, a common over the counter drug found in justabout every household in the U.S. We know that aspirin functions as acyclooxygenase-2 (COX-2) inhibitor, which limits the effects of prostoglandinsin the body. Prostoglandins can lead to inflammation, fever, and pain. Althoughwe have a good idea of how it functions in the body, there is still much tolearn about aspirin. Its exact mechanisms in the body are still a topic ofstudy. Also, aspirin may not work properly for some, simply because of theunique aspects of their bodies.

Thisoriginal statistic of 51%, after inspiring much thought, left me with one veryimportant message: We can’t expect people in the heath care fields, likedoctors, nurses, or pharmacists, to know everything about individual health. Evenwith the extensive education that health care professionals receive, there aremany aspects beyond their control that limit the effectiveness of theirpractice. For example, not all individuals respond to drugs in the same way. Inaddition, health care treatment is limited by what we know at the time. Dr.David Bear, the Chair of the Department of Chemistry and Chemical Biology hereat UNM, spoke with me about this topic. As a professor at the School of Medicine,he said about half of what they teach medical students is probably wrong. Understandthat this does not mean the professors are intentionally giving the studentsincorrect information. Rather, it reflects the fact that new information isconstantly arising and reshaping what we know about the human body. Theeducation that medical students receive is a reflection of knowledge that isheld and accepted throughout the medical community at that point in time. Yet,we must remember where modern medicine has its origins. Many of the drugs weuse today are “new and improved” versions of traditional remedies used byalternative healers like medicine men. Keeping this is mind (and alsorecognizing the level of uncertainty in modern medicine), it makes sense whyalternative healers were ultimately allowed to practice at UNM Hospital.

Whilehealthcare professionals act to the best of their knowledge, socialexpectations of them are often too high. People sometimes forget the vitallyimportant role that they have in their own health. If 51% of medicine is notfully understood, having blind faith in professional medical advice is adangerous risk. Just like any other scientist, doctors don’t know everythingand it’s absurd to think that they do. When meeting with a doctor orpharmacist, people have to speak up and ask questions; they must voice theirconcerns, seek second opinions, and learn more about how to improve andmaintain their health. People can even turn to websites like WedMD, Medscape,or PubMed to research conditions or drugs that the doctor may have prescribedfor them. This information is meant to be supplemental to professionaldiagnoses, but it helps to increase medical knowledge and may even prove toprolong a person’s life. Taking this proactive stand is one of the most importantaspects in improving and maintaining health. As Dr. Bear told me, after all “noone actually heals you- you do it yourself.”

Jessica Garcia is in her fourthyear at UNM, pursuing a B.S. in Biology. She is working towards a career inpharmacy.

Commuting in the Rainforest

2011-09-22T10:09:00.000-06:00

Iawake just before dawn to the sound of water gurgling in a brook. The local oropendolas, large blackbirds that build hanging nests in coloniesthroughout the Neotropical lowlands, are at it again: hanging upside-down asthey sing in the tree just above our tents. I pull on muddy clothes and tallrubber boots, and then trudge out of my tent to the camp kitchen, where Ashley,an undergraduate working with me through UNM's UNO program,joins me. We stuff the day's supplies into our packs, grab binoculars and walkingsticks, and sleepily begin our daily commute in the Peruvian rainforest.

Hanging Oropendula nests

Theworld becomes dark and quiet as we enter the forest. Some birds have begun tosing, but they sound distant in the forest, their calls muffled by thevegetation. Nothing matches the noise of the oropendolas by camp. Theadrenaline of almost walking face-first into a spider web that had beenconstructed across our trail overnight jolts me fully awake. After using mywalking stick to remove the web, we continue along the upward-winding trail. Westruggle up the slope, occasionally slipping back down the hill in the mud. Iresist the urge to grab the tree trunk in front of me; it's a palm that useslong, sharp spines to defend itself from herbivores and innocent biologistslooking for a handhold. I made the mistake of using it for leverage yesterday,and my palm is still sore. Instead, I dig my stick into the mud and reach for avine above my head to slow my downhill slide. Carefully, I dig one boot intothe muddy slope, testing to see if it will hold my weight, then the next. Despite being here during the "dry season," this forest in thefoothills of the eastern slope of the Peruvian Andes is remarkably wet.

Leaf-cutter ants carry their prizes back to the colony

Wecontinue our climb-slide-climb cadence, pausing to watch a brigade ofleaf-cutter ants in our path. Large ants carry pieces of leaves the size ofquarters towards their colony, while smaller ants ride on these trophies,guarding them from parasitoid flies that would lay their eggs on them. Otherants scurry empty-handed along the well-tended path, some clearing debris fromtheir highway, others heading towards the colony's favored tree to cut morevegetation. Leaves brought back to the colony will be chewed into small piecesto be used as fertilizer to grow the special fungus that these ants eat - theyare agriculturalist insects.

A butterfly with translucent wings -
you can see its abdomen through the wings

Westep over the leaf-cutter ant highway, duck under a fallen tree, climb over amoss-covered log, and continue the uphill struggle against the mud. Along theway, a butterfly with cellophane-like clear wings flutters past. The relativequiet is shattered by the raucous calls of a flock of parrots, which erupt intoflight when we step too close to their tree. At one point, I put my hand onto aroot inches from a bullet ant, an insect as long as my pinky finger whosesting, it is said, feels as if you had just been shot. I jerk my hand awaybefore I can find out for myself.

Finallywe reach the first 12-meter mist-net, which is supported by a pole at eitherend and rolled up for the night. Open, this mist-net is ideal for capturing thebirds we study: flying birds rarely see the delicate net in time to avoid itand become caught, unharmed, in its mesh. Together, Ashley and I unroll the netto its full 3-meter height. We continue upwards along the trail, passing undera manakin lek. Male manakins gather here to display, each hoping to impress afemale, thus earning a mating. Ihear the buzz and snap of their wings as they display, but can only see thetiny birds darting in and out of view in the leaves above us. We hike on,opening 10 more nets on the trail up to and along the ridge. About an hourafter we left camp, we reach the end of out mist-net line. Panting, we sit downto munch on a breakfast of cookies and water while listening to antthrusheswhistle to one another in the understory.

A hummingbird caught unharmed in a mist-net

Aftereating, I begin the trek back down the mountain while Ashley stays on the ridgeto bird watch and follow later, checking the nets after me. I try to control mydownward slide such that I only slide into trees without spines, don't fallface-first, and don't land on anything too sharp or hard or that will sting orbite me. My walking stick is little help. I check each net along the way,carefully removing any tangled birds and gently putting them into small cottonbags to carry back down to camp to study. My labmates Libby, Phred, Ashley, andAndy; our Peruvian assistants Emil and Rainer; and I take turns all daycommuting up and down the hill all day to pluck birds out of our nets and bringthem to camp, until the last one up closes all the nets on his/her way down. WhileI battle this muddy hill, the others are opening more mist-nets, preparing thelab tent for the day's work, collecting data on the first birds of the morning,cooking breakfast and lunch, and carrying and filtering water from a nearbystream.

Thelittle birds we work so hard to catch are vital to our research program, andthe reason we trek up and down mountains each day. As a lab, we are interestedin drivers of biodiversity, and will study the physiology, genetics, anatomy,and parasites of these birds to learn about such subjects as high elevationadaptations, malaria prevalence, flight muscle evolution, and patterns of geneticdivergence in one of the most biologically diverse regions of the world. We'llstay up late into the night processing the samples we collect from the birds,and then rise at dawn tomorrow for another commute through the rainforest.

NatalieWright is a third-year Ph.D. student and PiBBs fellow in Chris Witt's lab,Biology Department & Museum of Southwestern Biology at UNM. She studies theevolution of bird flight muscles, and will take any excuse she can get to spendtime in the tropics.

Breaking Down the Ivory Tower

2011-09-14T08:56:00.001-06:00

“I agree that Americans are woefully ignorant when itcomes to science. But scientists have a tendency to be aloof at best andpompous and condescending at worst, which doesn't do anything to make Americanstrust them or want to learn about science. Politicians and high school educatedcelebrities over-simplifying and overselling scientific promises or threats ofcatastrophe further push lay people to a mistrust of what they perceive as‘science’.”

– From a reallife conversation on Facebook

Weall have different motivations for the things we do. The UNM Biology Blog juststarted its second semester, and it focuses on the process of writing aboutscience for a general audience. One of the first things we do as a class isintroduce ourselves and talk a little bit about why we want to participate inthe blog. The reasons run the gamut: from people who enjoy writing already, tothose who want to become better writers, to those who are just plain curious. It goes without saying that most of us are very excited about science ingeneral. My motivation stems from a recent conversation that took place onFacebook, which provided me with the above quote. It’s a loaded statement, butdeconstructing it reveals a lot about the current state of scientific literacyand the difficulty of being a science advocate.

AreAmericans “woefully ignorant”, and if so, does it really matter? I would arguethat in order to have a functioning democracy, elected officials and the folkswho vote for them need to be scientifically literate. Many of the policydecisions we make (about climate change, natural resources, conservation, stemcell research, public health, etc.) hinge upon an understanding of basicscientific concepts. However, a 2010 publication entitled “TheConceptualization and Measurement of Civic Scientific Literacy for theTwenty-First Century” by Jon Miller estimates that only 28% of American adultshave the necessary science literacy skills to read and comprehend the Tuesdayscience section of the New York Times. When I read this statistic, I was bothsad and stunned. As both a researcher and a teacher I was hoping we were betteroff than this. Thankfully, this same study indicates that over the past twodecades scientific literacy has increased a little. But then again, we’ve hadvery little growth since the early 2000’s. We’ve stagnated a little, andconcepts in the life sciences still remain among the least understood. Whetheror not America is “woefully ignorant” is probably a matter of opinion, and itis unclear if the public’s willingness to learn about science has changed ornot. Perhaps we should keep this study in the back of our minds, because thereis certainly much room for improvement.

Sadly,scientists are indeed suffering from a public relations problem. The perceptionof scientists in this country isn’t great (some of our kinder critics havecalled us pompous jerks, or worse), and part of this perception comes from atradition of viewing public activities as a worthless pursuit. Historically,advocacy has not been high on our list of priorities. This ivory tower attitudeis largely a result of academic and research systems that reward workculminating in peer reviewed publications, not popular science articles, books,or outreach. It was precisely this kind of system that lead other scientists tocriticize the late Carl Sagan, an astronomer and a heck of a good scienceadvocate, because he was “too involved” with the public. The silver lining isthat I have found that many younger scientists are quite accessible andfriendly. I don’t think it’s accurate or fair to accuse scientists as a wholeof being unapproachable. Many of us enjoy educational outreach and see thevalue in cultivating respectful scientific conversation. Furthermore, majorfunding agencies such as the National Science Foundation (NSF) have alsostarted making outreach and broader impacts a mandatory part of grant applications. This might be an indication that attitudes are changing. We’re supposed to bedoing science for the betterment of humanity, not just for the scientificcommunity. I worry that some scientists have forgotten this fact.

The last part of the introductory quote harkens tothe mistrust and anti-intellectualism that is becoming pervasive in the mediaand in our society as a whole. Skepticism is important, but it should notprovide a free pass to spread lies. That kind of behavior has lead tounjustified wariness of scientists and their profession. In order to make soundand informed political policy, there has to be some degree of trust in science. Facts are not political bargaining chips. In David Orr’s 2004 ConservationBiology article on the corruption and redemption of science, he states, “...whatever one's politics, the corruption ofscience and public information for political ends ought to be deeply offensiveto scientists and citizens alike. Allowed to continue it will, like Lysenkoismin the Soviet Union, demoralize scientists, degrade the reputation of science,and discredit the information necessary to a free society.” We are,unfortunately, already reaping these results.

Even if scientists start to become advocates for scientificliteracy, the misrepresentation of research and public knowledge by otherpeople is dangerous. At best, politicians, celebrities, and the media may bepresenting false information out of sincere misunderstanding. At worst their motives are nefarious. The line between “fact” and “opinion” hasbeen blurred, and no one is training the public to tell the difference. Goodand honest researchers have had reputations tarnished, and some have facedthreats to their safety (see last spring semester’s blog postby Dr. Randy Thornhill). Misrepresentation can also pose a public health andsafety risk, as is the case with the false “connection” between childhoodvaccines and autism. What’s more, when someone misuses information a researchercan’t do much more than give a press release, and hope that someone will listen. Most scientists simply do not have the resources at hand for this level ofdamage control.

Ifeel as though I’ve painted a pretty bleak picture of science in the public eye. Scientific literacy affects everyone, and its importance should be obvious. But,achieving greater literacy is a challenge. On one hand, scientists appear to beopening up to the public. On the other hand, scientific literacy hasn’tincreased much over the past few decades, and the public’s opinion of sciencedoesn’t bode well for improving that figure. Oddly enough, Miller’s 2004 studyindicates that a general interest in science is a weak predictor of whether ornot someone will be scientifically literate. If interest isn’t the key, thenadvocacy alone probably won’t be enough. Perhaps cultivating respectful andhonest communication would be a good place to start. That’s where I think UNM’sBioBLOG fits in.

So,what is motivating me to write for this blog? I can’t change the world, but Ican try to be an ambassador for science within my own community. I feel it’s mycivic duty to increase scientific literacy by promoting communication andunderstanding. I want to become a better communicator of science, and helpothers reach that shared goal too. Having said this, how have you promotedscientific literacy lately? I’m eager to hear from my fellow advocates. Let’sbreak down this ivory tower!

MelissaPardi is a second year PhD student studying paleoecology in theSmith lab.

Living the Dream

2011-09-07T09:33:00.000-06:00

It’s 6:30 am. I wake up to incessant laughter outside mywindow. Is this a child or something else? The sound came from a Kookaburra (Kookaburra) perchedoutside my window. The kookaburra wasn’t the only interesting bird at Lane CoveNational Park in Sydney, Australia, where I was staying for a five-weekAnalytical Paleobiology workshop with twelve other students. Every morning we awoketo a symphony of bird sounds: some sounding like water drops, some like crows,the distinct laughing of the kookaburra, and still others that sounded likewailing children. While walking around the park, we often played a game: childor bird? It’s surprising how hard it is to tell!

While my reason for going to Australia was to learn aboutanalytical methods used in the field of paleobiology, it was hard not to bedistracted by all the wildlife around me and use it as an excuse to travel thecountry. After the program ended, I explored as much of eastern Australia as Icould in two weeks. I flew up to Cairns (pronounced Canes), where I dove forthree days on the Great Barrier Reef. There, I saw sea turtles, cuttlefish,parrotfish (see left), reef sharks, and even heard humpback whales! We went to a couple of differentsites along the reef, which spans 20,000 kilometers along the eastern coast ofAustralia, and dove at different times of the day to get a sense for the rhythmsof the reef. In the morning, the reefs are just beginning to blossom: turtles emergefrom their underwater caves as they awake, and the sea is calm. By afternoon,the reef is bustling: everything is moving, eating, or hiding. At night, thesharks come out and the fish put on their camouflage. For example, parrotfishcover themselves in a sack of mucus to hide their scent from predators.

I then traveled south to more temperate Sydney, which iscooler than in tropical Cairns. There, I also went diving, but it was a verydifferent experience: rather than diving into the open ocean, I entered theocean from the shore. Even the water was different: it was colder, and requireda thick wet suit plus a hood, gloves, and booties to stay warm. The noiseunderwater was different, too. Instead of the constant fall of particles, Icould hear the roaring of ferries and boats passing in the bay. The area Iinvestigated was sandier and filled with wrecks that acted as the structure forthings to hold onto rather than a reef. Here, I saw sea horses - lots ofseahorses! They were clinging to the fish net near the pier because out in openwater they are vulnerable to predation. There were also cuttlefish, but they weremuch smaller than the ones at the reef.

During the program, I spent much of my time in front of acomputer from 9 am to 5 pm. It gave me the analytical tools I need to test myhypotheses. The workshop taught me howto do science. But traveling reminded me whyI do science. Exploring the natural world reinvigorated my passion and left meexcited to investigate new questions!

Meghan Balk is a second year Ph.D. student in the Smith Labin the Department of Biology at UNM.

Finding Yourself

2011-08-15T12:35:00.001-06:00

At my old clinical neuroscience laboratory, the research assistants used to trade cover letters like playing cards. Some applicants were too vague (“My interests lie at the intersection of neuroscience and psychology. . . “), others too specific (“I am especially interested in understanding the neural underpinnings and physiological correlates of dissociative identity disorder”), and still others were downright bizarre (“extensive experience serving as physician in Jaisalmer, India”). However, the “worst” applications were those where the applicant cited his or her own pathological diagnosis as both motivation and “insider information.” Gems include “my family has a history of Schizophrenia,” “I have been called psychopathic. . . ” and so on. We made fun, but these appeals are not ridiculous. Any statement of interest needs to establish motivation, and few can argue with the motivation to understand a disorder of a family member, or oneself. However, in calling oneself out, one faces the stigma of association with the disorder, which outweighs the benefits of mentioning it in the first place.

Psychologists joke that we study our own “issues.” Social anxiety researchers have anxiety, depression researchers are depressed, etc. This is not surprising – one has to be a little crazy to pursue a PhD in anything, and intrinsic motivation is hard to undermine. But it also makes the research hard to shake off.

Even if one has no special motivation towards psychology, simply studying it becomes maddening. One can never leave it at work – people are everywhere. I imagine organic chemists leaving the lab, and wondering how the carbon content of their beer affects the taste, so much that they can no longer enjoy the beer itself. But psychologists never find themselves without company. You never lose your own self-consciousness, and so psychologists always have their favorite research material handy: themselves.

To me, it feels as though one were studying reality. It is always there, ever present, perhaps not understood in the slightest, but begging to be understood nonetheless. One can go home for the night, leave the project, but never leave the material. I may be myopic, but I think psychology is special in this regard. Surely, all of us have trouble leaving our work behind; we have trouble letting go for the night and enjoying our lives. My father had trouble leaving his business behind to tend to his family at night (he owned a pet store). But I think psychologists have it worse - social and psychological events make up a large part of our lives, and it is impossible to ignore them.

So we psychologists seem to have two strikes against us. First, we study the things we have issues with. Second, our introspective data never leave us. The result is an insidious mixture of self-involvement and self-reflection, and we are never left alone.

Aleksandr Chakroff is a PhD student in Psychology/Neuroscience at Harvard.

The Sex Lives of Birds

2011-07-26T13:22:00.003-06:00

Courtship in songbirds is trashy, like a reality television show. Each male is trying to gain the greatest reproductive advantage he can, either by mating with as many females as possible and/or by impressing the highest-quality female(s). Each female is also trying to maximize her reproduction, but her desires often conflict with those of the males. She wants the highest quality males to sire her young, but needs a loyal male who will help her successfully raise her offspring. Often, males who have "better genes" - are better at territory defense, better singers, or have prettier feathers - are lousy parents who spend all their time singing or dallying with the girl next door rather than feeding their offspring. So what's a lady bird to do? She mates with her partner, the male with whom she is raising offspring, who is usually the father of over half the offspring in their nest. She also mates with other males occupying nearby territories, who end up fathering some of the young in her nest - kids her partner helps raise.

Why do the males put up with this? Why raise offspring that are likely not your own? Why not make the females do all the work of feeding and defending the kids, if they're going to lay eggs you haven't sired? In some species of bird species, especially in the tropics, males have taken this approach. Male manakins and birds of paradise, for example, spend all their free time displaying to impress females. Females mate with the best male ("best" can refer to dance, art, song, or colorful feathers, depending on the species). Females then raise the offspring on their own, with no help from the male(s). This only works, however, in species and habitats where one female can collect enough food for herself and all her offspring without any help. In most species, both parents are needed to successfully feed all the young. This is why males put up with cheating partners - if they do not help rear the offspring, even if some are not their own, none of their offspring would survive.

Early ornithologists thought most songbirds were monogamous for several reasons. When ornithologists studied the mating systems of these birds, they saw one female and one male working together to feed offspring, and assumed that all the young in a nest belonged to both partners. Before genetic methods of parentage analysis, there was no way to check this assumption. It is hard to watch a bird in the wild all the time - especially small songbirds. They fly rapidly, often high in the forest canopy, hidden from our eyes by leaves. It is very unlikely for an observing human to see a female sneak a copulation with a non-partner - after all, she is trying to avoid detection by her partner, and mating generally occurs very quickly. When technology first became available for genetic parentage tests, articles with themes such as songbird species X is not monogamous! 25% of eggs are from extra-pair copulations! were common. Now, however, finding a songbird species where 100% of eggs in a nest are the offspring of both partners is cause for surprise and excitement.

But what about those loving pairs from the movie March of the Penguins, you ask? They're not songbirds, but they are monogamous. Both male and female Emperor Penguins work together to raise their chick, and there's no hanky-panky. True. Such a system is enforced by both the desperate need for cooperation in harsh conditions and the difficulty of cheating. Partners are pretty much inseparable between meeting and egg laying. But these penguins are not monogamous they way humans often think of monogamy. There is no guarantee that last year's pairs will be together this season.

Mating systems in birds are diverse, and we are still working to understand many of the details. No single rule applies. In addition to the socially monogamous but genetically promiscuous songbirds and polygynous birds I've described here, there are birds that exhibit polyandry (one female mates with several males), overt promiscuity (no pair-bond or partnership), and even true monogamy.

Natalie Wright is a third year Ph.D. student in the Witt Lab in the Department of Biology at UNM. Natalie recently returned from a field expedition in Peru where she was mist netting birds.

Tilting at windmills: A tale of the naturalistic fallacy.

2011-07-14T10:04:00.004-06:00

"The study is just racist nonsense and should be ignored with the contempt it richly deserves.

This was a pretty typical response from the public when, last summer, my colleagues and I published a paper in the prestigious journal, http://rspb.royalsocietypublishing.org/content/277/1701/3801.full.pdf+html?sid=95d39787-9da8-4cee-b0ab-1b3e71aab346 “Proceedings of the Royal Society B.”

Our paper was about the relationship between infectious disease and intelligence in humans. The human brain is fantastically expensive to build, in terms of caloric energy. We argued that anything that happens during development that causes energy to be taken away from building the brain will result in a brain that is not as high quality as it might be, and thus the person with that brain will have lower intelligence than they might have had otherwise. Infectious disease, we argue, is a major type of developmental "insult" that can draw energy away from a developing brain. To test this, we compared levels of infectious disease to average IQ across 184 nations of the world. We used statistical tests to control for the effects of education, national wealth and other variables that may have been involved — all of the variables that had been proposed by other studies and reviewers. We found that infectious disease alone predicts as much as 67% of the worldwide variation in average national IQ, and was, by a significant margin, the best predictor of average IQ than any other variable we looked at. (We have since published a second paper (http://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0160289611000286) which repeated this analysis across states of the USA and found the same pattern.)

Our study was covered widely by media from all over the world, including The Economist (http://www.economist.com/node/16479286?story_id=16479286), Newsweek (http://www.newsweek.com/2010/07/26/why-do-iq-scores-vary-by-nation.html), The Guardian (http://www.newsweek.com/2010/07/26/why-do-iq-scores-vary-by-nation.html) , The PBS NewsHour (http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/health/july-dec10/mozambique_11-24.html) , and many others on at least four continents.

We got a lot of responses from scientists and doctors, congratulating us on the quality of our paper and the importance of the findings. They often remarked that our hypothesis made so much sense that they didn’t know why someone hadn’t thought of it before.

However, we got quite a lot of negative feedback from the general public. The consensus seemed to be that our research was driven by racist ideology. Our hypothesis did rest, after all, on the fact that people in equatorial regions of the world are not as intelligent, on average, as people at higher latitudes. The global variation in human IQ was not a finding of our study, but the result of previous studies; the data from which was used in ours.

The purpose of science is to discover what is true about the world, whatever that may be. When scientists discover something, they are not morally condoning it; they are just saying that it is true.

Scientists and philosophers known for centuries that facts about the world do not inherently have anything to say about how we should behave or what our morals should be. To argue otherwise is to make what is known as the “naturalistic fallacy.” In short, to argue that the natural state of something is moral (or immoral) simply because it exists that way in nature, is to commit the naturalistic fallacy. Despite having been “thrown on the intellectual trash heap” hundreds of years ago, as my advisor likes to say, this is a common mistake to make. Take the following examples:

“The sky is blue, therefore blue is morally correct.”

“Malaria is natural, therefore it is good and we should not try to cure it.”

This can also work in the opposite direction, assuming that certain things about:

“I wish I were a millionaire, therefore there must be a huge vein of unmined gold in my yard.”

“Childhood cancer is awful, therefore it must not exist.”

“I believe that everyone is the equal, therefore everyone must be the same height.”

These statements obviously make very little sense. Many people, however, still make these types of errors every day:

“Homosexuality is not natural,* therefore it should be discouraged among humans.”

(Or conversely, “homosexuality is natural, therefore gay marriage should be legal.”)

“Other animals do not engage in warfare*, therefore we should not have wars either.”

(Or conversely, “other animals engage in warfare, therefore human warfare is natural and good.)

“I believe that everyone is equal, therefore people everywhere must have the same IQ.”

We cannot infer morality simply from observing nature. Nature is filled with things that people consider to be morally correct and things that people consider to be morally incorrect. Some things that occur in nature are found by some to be morally incorrect and by others to be morally correct. Nature does not inform morality, neither does it conform to our own sense of morality. It simply is what it is.

The same is true of our study on global variation in human intelligence. Many people found some assumptions of our paper to be offensive, but they are simply empirical observations about nature. It is up to each of us to decide whether we like this aspect of the world or not, but what we like or don’t like has nothing to do with what is true. Most people would agree that it is a good thing to be sensitive to racism, but there is no racism here. Our critics who argued that we were racist because certain observations about the world did not agree with their own moral precepts were, like Don Quixote, tilting at windmills.

*These statements, it turns out, are empirically false. Homosexual behavior occurs in countless animals, and other animals (including ants and chimpanzees) engage in warfare.

Chris Eppig is a Ph.D. candidate in Randy Thornhill's lab. He studies a variety of topics in human evolution, including intelligence and sexual behavior.

Land of Enchantment

2011-06-16T10:04:00.002-06:00

The sun had just set and taken with it the brilliant colors that radiated over the mountains. Dark green Pinon trees, Ponderosa trees and other shrubbery sprang out from among the light yellow landscape leading up to our campground in the Cibola National Forest. The next morning I was woken by the howling wind brushing pine needles past my tent. As I climbed out of my tent to stretch my legs, the sun illuminated the long rectangular tips of the San Mateo Mountains.

I’ve lived in New Mexico my entire life and have never seen the type of beauty I saw when I went camping with my Conservation Biology seminar this April. At first, I was terrified at the thought of camping for the first time in the middle of nowhere. Not because of the bears or other animals that could possibly maul me, but because of all those scary movies I’d seen where the campers were chopped up into little pieces. In the end my curiosity beat my fear. I thought, “I can hunt rattlesnakes and go hiking all in exchange for one little night of camping out in the wilderness? Let’s do it.”

After packing up my tent and fueling up for the day, we ventured off into the Apache Kid Wilderness for a 7-mile hike. On our way to the trail, a small brown buck and six does ran along side our car higher up into the mountains.

Along the trail, we found remnants from those who had been there before. A degraded wooden cottage stood just off the path with a stone fireplace still in tact. A rusted 1950s car lay in the tall grass with its pistons and brake peddle exposed. A barb wired fence curled around a thick tree trunk before wrapping itself around a gray rock on the floor and a set of fence posts leaning sideways.

It was an extraordinary site and the day before was just as incredible.

We spent the previous day searching in burrows and under rocks for Western Diamondback Rattlesnakes with Lorraine McInness, a UNM graduate student. McInness tracks the movement of rattlesnakes throughout the Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge near Socorro and we tagged along for the hunt. The rattlesnakes have transmitters, no bigger than a double-A battery, surgically implanted into their bodies. To find them, Lorraine would wave an antenna horizontally toward the snakes’ former location and listen to a radio receiver that she held tightly to her ear. A clicking noise signified the rattlesnakes whereabouts, which grew louder as we got closer.

Throughout the day we drove to numerous spots along a dirt road, hopped out of our vehicles and treaded our way around hills and along railroads in search of the next den. During a routine search for a rattlesnake, we found two burrows etched into the side of a hill with seven snakes that hadn’t been previously caught. With two large red tongs, McInness and a teacher’s assistant slid the snakes out of their holes into plastic containers to be taken back to the office and processed. At one point in the extraction, a yellow rattlesnake, about an inch and a half round, pushed the container’s lid and jumped out of the bucket. It slid a few feet in the blink of an eye before being captured.

That April weekend I sunburned my face, ripped my jeans while climbing over a barbed wire fence, had a thorn stuck in my leg and fell asleep holding a pocket knife, but it was one of the best adventures I’ve had. It just goes to show that maybe a foreign or scary experience can result in something you never expect and thoroughly enjoy.

Abigail Ramirez Ortiz is a senior in the biology department at UNM.

A year wiser

2011-06-06T20:34:00.003-06:00

One year ago, I received my bachelor’s degree. Nine months ago, bushy-tailed and bright-eyed, I attended the UNM biology graduate student orientation. This week, at the end of my second semester and under the influence of the usual end-of-the-semester burnout, I reflected on the past two semesters. Here are some things I wish I had known a year ago:

1. Graduate school is all about active learning.

Undergraduate education is passive: you listen to lectures, doing the assigned work, and getting a grade. On the other hand, pretty much everything in graduate school is active. Research is entirely self-motivated: you decide when and how much to work, you decided what’s interesting, and you decide how to go about running your research. If you work as a teaching assistant, you decide what is important to communicate to your students and what is important to quiz them on. Even classes are no longer passive: because you’re in graduate school, your professors assume that those who won’t be able to make it have already been weeded out. Therefore, you, not your letter grade, determine how much you got out of a class. This change from a passive to an active education also requires a shift in mindset, and it is now up to you to decide what the new “acceptable” is. As an undergraduate, definitions of good and bad work were set by letter grades, but as a graduate student, you must decide if you’re happy with your work.

2. Open your mouth.

During my last quarter as an undergraduate, I sat in on a graduate seminar, and I pretty much didn’t say a word the entire class because I assumed everybody in the room new much more than I did. In retrospect, I can see that some of the graduate students in the class didn’t know any more than I did. As a graduate student, you will learn so much more if you ask question, even dumb ones. Chances are someone else in the room has the same question you do. Furthermore, your classmates and professors are much more impressed by someone who actively tries to understand the material and occasionally asks a dumb question then by someone who never speaks.

3. What you do now does not dictate the rest of your life.

This one took me a while to figure out. Most scientists perceive their research as a large part of their identity. Therefore choosing your graduate research can seem very daunting, especially to someone like me who didn’t come to school with a specific idea of what she wanted to study. Your graduate work does lay down the basis for a lot of future potential work, but you can decide to study something different next year or after you finish your degree. The moral of this lesson is that you should get excited about whatever you’re involved in, even if it isn’t the “perfect” project.

4. Self-confidence is key.

Whether you are teaching a lab section, talking to your advisor, or other graduate students, it doesn’t matter if you don’t know the answer, as long as you’re enthusiastic and willing to look it up or learn it. The phrase “fake it ‘till you make it” definitely applies to graduate school.

And finally:

5. The magic of graduate-studenthood doesn’t suddenly make you smarter, more efficient, or get rid of any of your undergraduate bad habits.

If I’d given it more than thirty seconds of thought, I would have realized that this presumption couldn’t possibly be true, but I as an undergraduate, I always thought graduate students looked liked they had it “all together”. Unfortunately, after two semesters I’m still stuck with most of my old bad habits, but it turns out my fellow graduate students all have bad habits too. It turns out that all that “togetherness” I perceived was just confidence, excitement, and long hours of dedication.

Some of these things were told to me nine months ago, but they were still all lessons I had to learn for myself. I survived one year, and I’m still excited to be a graduate student. I’ll check back with you next year.

Clare Steinberg is a first (now 2nd!) year PhD student in Vaishali Katju’s lab.

The Elephant in the Room

2011-05-13T11:45:00.007-06:00

(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elephant_in_the_room)

I’ve noticed a disturbing trend in myself.

Recently, I was sitting at one of the restaurants on my college campus (UC Santa Cruz) reading a chapter in my ecology textbook. The topic was population growth and regulation. I was skimming along when a few sentences caught my attention
: “In 2006, there were 11.9 billion global hectares of productive land available, and the ecological footprint of an average person was 2.6 global hectares… the human population in 2006 was 6.6 billion, more than a 40% overshoot of it’s [Earth’s long-term] carrying capacity” (Cain, 2008). This statistic left me stunned.

Pick up any decent biology or ecology textbook and you’ll find estimates just as dire. It’s clear that we as a species are in deep trouble. For a sobering first-hand look at this here’s a link to the US Census Bureau’s Population Clock: http://www.census.gov/main/www/popclock.html. Every time I read this, all I can think to myself is “I really hope I’m dead by the time the proverbial s**t hits the fan”. This time though, I had to stop myself. Such thinking is exactly why we’ve gotten ourselves into this mess.

Our species has been causing environmental change for a very long time.Humans played a major role in the extinction of large mammals in the Americas around 13,000 years ago. We began altering biogeochemical cycles after developing agriculture 8,000 years ago, and built farms and cities that exploded in size during the industrial revolution. We have colonized all but one of the continents, and have completely altered the face of the Earth. Now we are altering the atmosphere, changing even the sky above us. But for a long time, we didn’t understand what we were doing. How could we change anything as massive as our Earth? How could we use up the boundless resources it offers us?

Ecology as a science didn’t emerge until fairly recently. Indeed, the idea of ecological carrying capacities only dates from the 1930s with the work of Gause and others. But since the field has developed, we have received some very scary models and predictions about just how many of us the Earth can support. Estimates range from lows of 1.3 billion people (if everyone lived like the average US citizen) to highs of 14 billion (if everyone lived like the average citizen of India). What’s terrifying is that we are already approaching the higher numbers, and show no signs of stopping. Human growth over the past few thousand years has been exponential, and while technological advances may raise our carrying capacity a little, there is no doubt that at some point we’re going to run out of the food, water and space to support more of our species.

No one likes to think or talk about this. It is decidedly politically incorrect to do so. To many, uncontrolled population growth is a problem for other nations, particularly underdeveloped ones like China or India. But, human population growth is an issue that isn’t limited to just one country. It needs to be a major concern to all nations and all people regardless of religion or ethnicity. The tendency that I’ve noticed when talking about such monumental issues is to either proclaim that there is no hope for humanity, or to fall back on the excuse “I’m only one person, what can I do?” Well, trickle-down solving of global political and scientific problems hasn’t worked for us so far. After all, how often do politicians have a good grasp on the science behind an issue? I doubt that there is one single solution to the problem of unchecked human growth but the ideas are going to come from us. How can we achieve a “sustainable” global population? Can we use economics to encourage lower fertility rates? How equitable should the standard of living be worldwide? What are our first steps in solving this problem? Lets start talking and share our ideas with colleagues and friends in other states and other nations. They have as much at stake as we do.

Because we are after all, sharing the same Earth.

Emma Elliott Smith is a junior at UC Santa Cruz studying Ecology and Earth Science. She is an undergraduate researcher in the Estes/Tinker Sea Otter lab, and spends summers working for Marcy Litvak at UNM.

What's in a name?

2011-05-04T07:34:00.007-06:00

Smilodon fatalis (fatal smile). Unquestionably, my favorite scientific name. The poetry as the syllables slowly roll off your tongue fits perfectly with my mental image of the sabre-toothed cat: a large feline sprawled on a rock ledge idly watching a herd of mammoth grazing peacefully nearby. Never mind that the idea of a formidable predator like a sabretooth “smiling” is an idea straight out of Hollywood where all animals have human personalities. (If you doubt this, you clearly haven’t seen the movie Ice Age.)

Sometimes, scientific names tell us about history. For example, the name of the giraffe (Giraffa camelopardalis) reflects the taxonomic confusion that reigned when this strange 2-ton animal was first classified. The giraffe was one of the many species first formally described by Carl Linnaeus in 1758. Linnaeus was a Swedish botanist who developed the idea of binomial nomenclature; the two-part system used today to uniquely describe all life. He choose the species name to reflect his observation that this rather strangely shaped beast had the head of a camel but the markings of a leopard. Thus, the specific name “camelopardalis” is a conglomeration: the specific name of the leopard “pardus” tacked onto the generic name of the camel “Camelus”. While this specific name may not accurately reflect the taxonomic affiliation of a giraffe, it does describe pretty well what it looks like.

Other names are equally descriptive. Take Mephitis mephitis, or the striped skunk. Both the generic and specific names are derived from the Latin, mephit, meaning “bad odor” in a rather classic instance of scientific understatement. I can personally attest that this description is pretty apt from the time my mentally deficient cat chased one under my sofa (a long and somewhat smelly story ...). Of course, all school kids know about Tyrannosaurus rex, or the “king of tyrant Lizards”. But, how many know that the cocoa tree whose seeds are used to make that most irresistible of treats, chocolate, was appropriately named Theobroma cacao ("food of the gods") by an appreciative scientist?

Sometimes the names scientists give species may reveal more than they wish about themselves. Many taxonomists name species after people (often other scientists) they respect; the literature is replete with examples of these. Thomas Jefferson has an extinct species of giant ground sloth named for him, Megalonyx jeffersoni. A scientist from the University of Chicago named a biting louse found on owls, Strigiphilus garylarsoni, after the famous cartoonist Gary Larson. When asked about this dubious distinction, Larson responded, "I considered this an extreme honor. Besides, I knew no one was going to write and ask to name a new species of swan after me. You have to grab these opportunities when they come along." (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gary_Larson).

But, what does an oxymoronic name say about the taxonomist? That they had the bad luck to describe a species that didn’t fit the generic name it had been bestowed with? How about the ophidiid fish, Spottobrotula amaculata, whose name means the "spotted cusk without spots"? Or, the tailed, tailless bat, Anoura caudifera? Sometimes though scientists are clearly trying to be clever. How could we conclude anything else from the scientific name, Orizabus subaziro, given to a new scarab beetle from Mexico? It’s just not that easy to create a palindrome.

Names are one of the most enduring legacies of a scientist. I have to confess some jealousy of my colleagues who have the privilege of naming new species or genera. After all, who could forget Zienkowiczikytodermogammarus zienkowiczi, an amphipod crustacean?

Sadly, everyone, since this name has recently been invalidated. The etymology of names is endlessly fascinating. From one “thinking man” to another: what’s your favorite scientific name?

Felisa Smith is an Associate Professor in the biology department who mostly studies long-dead things.

Baboon-ology

2011-04-28T09:39:00.010-06:00

If you’ve ever been called a baboon before, you probably didn’t take it as a compliment. If you walk down the street and hear someone talking about a baboon, they’re probably insulting someone they think is stupid, or else making some lewd reference to a big red rear end. But how much do you know about real baboons? Are they just stupid monkeys with red butts?

Yes, baboons are a type of monkey, although there are actually seven different species that all go by the common name of baboon. You might think, well, A baboon is a baboon. How different can two monkeys with red bottoms be? Very different, actually! Let’s take a look at two closely related species of baboons: Papio ursinus, the chacma baboon, and Papio hamadryas, the Hamadryas baboon.

Chacma baboons are found in the iconic open grasslands of southern Africa. The chacma male is one of the biggest monkeys out there, weighing in at over 60 pounds. But, like all baboon species, males are bigger than females, who tend to weigh a little over 30 pounds. Chacma baboons have rather dull brown and grey fur - and yes, two red spots on their rear. These thick patches of skin, known to primatologists as ischial callosities, are essentially built in seat cushions. They allow baboons to sit comfortably for hours on end on hard surfaces like tree branches. Normally these spots are not very large, except on females who are fertile and ready to mate. During these periods, females develop huge swellings of red tissue around their genitals, making it hard for them to sit down at all!

Hamadryas baboons are found in the desert and rocky areas of eastern Africa and the southern tip of the Arabian peninsula. They look quite different from the chacmas. Hamadryas males only weigh in at 40 pounds, and females around 20. Their fur is long and fluffy, and is a light silver on males and a golden brown on females. These baboons spend a lot of time sitting down on hard rocks, so their ischial callosities are broad and thick. And like all baboon species, hamadryas females develop large genital swellings when they are fertile.

A baboon may not seem that smart compared to a human, but their lives are more complicated than you might think. A stupid baboon won’t last very long.

Chacmas live in mixed troops of both males and females, that contain anywhere between 50 and 100 individuals. While males are dominant to females, each sex has a strict hierarchy of power. It’s important to remember the social order – if you piss off the wrong baboon, you could get seriously hurt! A baboon can recognize all of his/her fellow troop members by sight, smell and sound – and they always remember who’s more powerful than whom.

Female chacmas live their entire lives in the troop where they were born, and they inherit their mother’s status. Males don’t have it so easy – when they are mature, they have to leave their natal troop, and join a new one. This is a difficult task, because resident adult males are never keen on new competition. The best tactic for a new male is to befriend one of the troop’s resident females. He has to spend time with her, groom her, be nice to her older offspring, and maybe even carry them around on his back. At the same time, he has to start fighting with the other males in order to establish his place in the male hierarchy. A male’s status isn’t very stable – if he loses one too many fights, he could drop in rank quite quickly. He can try to prevent this by forming an alliance with another male or two, so that they will help him out in fights.

The social structure of hamadryas baboons is even more complex. The most basic “family” unit is the harem – a group of females, sometimes related to each other, sometimes not, and one dominant male. Several harems together form clans. The dominant males in the clan are often related, with the older males having the highest status. Several clans get together form huge bands of 200 or more baboons that all travel and sleep together. Like the chacmas, the hamadryas baboons can recognize all their fellow bend members through a variety of senses.

Hamadryas bands will also have bachelor males wandering through them. These males have grown up and left the security of their mother’s harem, but have yet to secure a harem of their own. They can do this in two ways. One way is to become the lieutenant of an older dominant male who has a harem. If the lieutenant makes himself useful, he could inherit the harem when the current dominant male is too old to defend it, or dies. This works best if the older male is a father or brother. The second way is more direct – raiding other male’s harems and stealing females away from them. The females, it seems, have little say in the matter. And, if they stray too far from their dominant male, they could be punished with a severe bite from the male’s long, razor-edged canines.

As you can see, there are more to baboons than you may think – and these are just two of the seven species of baboons! Baboons are just one type of monkey, and monkeys are just one type of primate. Altogether, there are over 400 different species of primates. They range in size and appearance from the 2 ounce mouse lemur to the 450 pound male gorilla. Their lifestyles vary from the solitary, nocturnal tarsier, to the huge, daytime herds of gelada baboons.   What other species of primates are out there? Why are all these species so different from one another?  And what can we learn by studying these amazing animals? Stay tuned – more primate BioBlog posts are heading your way.    
Jenny Cabotage is a third year graduate student in the Evolutionary Anthropology department. She has at times been called “the crazy monkey lady” and really, she’s OK with that.    
UNM students – want to learn more about primates? Try these classes:
Anthropology 363/563 – Primate Social Behavior – Dr. Jane Lancaster 
Anthropology 362/662 – Great Apes: Mind and Behavior – Dr. Martin Muller, Dr. Jane Lancaster 

Many primate species are critically endangered, and could go extinct during our lifetimes if we don’t take action soon. Learn more about primate conservation here:  
http://pin.primate.wisc.edu/aboutp/cons/ 
http://www.primate-sg.org/

Teachable Moments

2011-04-21T08:42:00.008-06:00

I have two beautiful children, Acelina and Matteo, who are seven and two respectively. They are the light of my life. But don’t think this is a mushy feely blog about parenting and cute baby stories (although there will be stories). Rather, this is a post about communication. I have been a parent throughout my college career, so it may not come as a surprise to hear that I talk “Biology” to my kids.

My kids never get a simple answer to their questions. I think this is because I am a scientist and have an overwhelming urge to understand all natural processes around me. I rise to the challenge of “why” and “how do you know” from my kids. Right now, Matteo is in his “why” stage and Acelina just passed the “but how do you know” stage. For example, at age four, Acelina asked me where babies came from. I pulled out my laptop and googled pictures of female reproductive organs. I explained how the ovaries release an egg each month and if fertilized in the fallopian tube, the zygote will migrate into the uterus, imbed into the blood lining and start to divide. I didn’t realize that I had resorted to “biology talk” until I saw her lost and confused face. I had lost her at “egg”. She is not the only one who gets my long and involved answers. When Matteo asks “why” he shouldn’t jump off the couch onto the coffee table I answer, “Mijo, because you can slip as you jump off the couch or as you land on the table and hurt yourself. If you hit your head we will have to take you to the hospital to have them examine your head to make sure you are ok. The doctors will probably want to give you a CT scan to make sure you don’t have any fractures, bruising, or bleeding.” I often wonder how my habit of answering their questions in this long and involved matter affects how my kids perceive life.

When I study I often engage Acelina and Matteo. This is not because I am trying to educate them, but rather, so that I can get something done. One day as I got back to my work-study job from class, my boss told me a story about how Joe’L (another employee) was walking by a desk and hit his knee on the corner of the desk. In pain he said, “Ahhh! My knee cap!” My daughter, three-years-old at the time, proudly corrected, “No Joe’L, that is not your knee cap that is your PATELLA!” I am proud to say that at age three Acelina could name all the major bones in her body because I used her to study for anatomy and physiology. I wonder if I am pushing my children into biology? I want both Acelina and Matteo to do what ever they most desire, but I fear I am subconsciously leading them to the life sciences.

It was not until I wrote this blog and talked to several people that I realized I am not pushing Acelina and Matteo to do anything. Instead, I am sharing my passion for the natural world. All this time I have been unconsciously creating teaching opportunities for my kids that few outside academia get to experience. This realization was confirmed through an email exchange with a professor at UC Berkeley. Her son, a herper by default, swore off academia, studied history as an undergraduate student and anthropology as a graduate student. Biology influenced his life but he combined his many passions and today is a 'card-carrying', NSF funded, zooarchaeologist.

I am lucky; I am a biologist and I get to do what I love for the rest of my life. I will continue to share my passion with my children but now I understand that I am generating opportunities for them to learn about the world around them. Through these opportunities I hope Acelina and Matteo will find a passion for life. Maybe I should worry more about how having a biologist for a mother makes them “different” than if I am pushing them to do something?

Julian Davis is a first year masters student working with Steven Poe. She studies anole lizard systematics and has done field work in the Honduras, Panama, and Ecuador.Below are photos of her children.

It’s a Stinky Job but Someone’s Gotta Do It!

2011-04-13T16:22:00.008-06:00

Mondays, how exciting they are for me each week; filled with mental and physical preparation for what awaits at 3 o’clock. Even though this is a weekly routine, I don’t know if I will ever be fully prepared for my Monday afternoon assignment: the dreaded BUG ROOM! The first breath saturated with the smells of rotting flesh, hand wash and insect feces is always the worst. Next, the unnerving sounds of hissing and scattering as they fearlessly investigate the unknown being that has entered their space. Oh yes, they will, and they have, climbed up a pant leg to explore.

I visit my little buggy friends, dermestids beetles, to serve them their breakfast, lunch and dinner. These flesh eating beetles remove the muscle and tissue from a prepared museum specimen, usually a mammal. The prepared specimens (a skeleton with removed skin, tissues and the majority of the meat) are crucial components in the Mammal collection of the Museum of Southwestern Biology here at UNM. Our specimens -such as a rabbit, ermine, or horse head- come from all different parts of the world, such as Alaska, Panama, and Russia, but all end up inside the bellies of our beetles. Without these creepy-crawly beetles, we wouldn’t be able to clean the skeletal structures of varying mammals for valuable research purposes. After placing the specimen in the ammonia-smelling, beetle filled cases, they are covered with a paper towel and sprinkled with water for moisture. Why I was required to go to the top of the Biology building each week just to leave with a repulsive, lingering stench boggled my mind until I looked at the bigger picture.

The valuable skeletons that remain after the bugs have devoured their meal are polished to become a resource in the Museum of Southwestern Biology. Our museum is not decorative or flashy as the exhibit-based museum from Night at the Museum. Instead, we have a wide range of liquid preserved mammals, dried skeletons (with their isolated mammal skins) and tissue samples. These allow researchers and scientists around the globe to conduct comparative research on mammals from the past to those of today. Our collection and others alike, provide the crucial data for different types of studies like ecology, morphology, genetics, climate change, and conservation. These studies aren’t only centralized on mammals but also with birds that are collected. A recognized example was the discovery of eggshell thinning due to fertilizers that contained DDT. From collected eggshells, researchers were able to observe that DDT directly affected the rigidity of these eggs. This mind-blowing discovery was only possible because collection museums preserve the past for future discoveries.

Going to the bug room may be a most unpleasant way to start a Monday, but I can’t help feeling that my weekly visit is imperative, not only for the bugs, but more for the undiscovered mysteries these skeletal specimens may reveal in the future. For a closer look at the Museum of Southwestern Biology and collection museums, visit the website: http://www.msb.unm.edu/ or check out the article Old dead rats are valuable by Jared Diamond and the Museum magazine, which highlight special features of the many diverse museums located around the world.

Diamond, J. M.1990. Old dead rats are valuable. Nature. Vol 347, No. 6291: 334-335.

http://find.galegroup.com/gtx/infomark.do?&contentSet=IAC-Documents&type=retrieve&tabID=T002&prodId=AONE&docId=A8970524&source=gale&srcprod=AONE&userGroupName=albu78484&version=1.0

Before beetles.

After beetles!

Andrea Jackson is a 5th year undergraduate student studying the movement patterns of large mammals in Africa in the chaotic Cook lab.

Communication Breakdown

2011-04-07T16:08:00.003-06:00

I am not socially inept. Maybe a little eccentric, but sociable. With my passion for paleobiology comes the difficulty of relating what I do to people outside the scientific community. It’s akin to communicating in two different languages: each field has it’s own jargon. The difficulty comes from recognizing common knowledge, and from knowing when to define terms specific to your field. For me, both are huge obstacles.

The moment I recognized this communication breakdown was after a surprisingly frustrating conversation with my parents. By the end of the conversation I had successfully reverted to an angst-y teenager who tells her parents: “ugh, you just don’t get it!” Embarrassed as I was, I took a step back and tried to figure out what went wrong in the conversation. Day-to-day I am surrounded by people who share a common base of knowledge. When I talk with my relatives I forget to turn off my “scientific speech,” which to them sounds like a foreign language.

Do you have those relatives who, despite how many times you explain something, it never seeps in? I have a bunch of those. I’m at the point of giving up, even though it’s important to me that they understand what I’ll be spending the rest of my life doing.

Here’s what I do: I study morphological change in mammals throughout time and space. What my relatives think I do: study biology and dead things. Or (my favorite): that I am going to become the highest educated burger-flipper around (thanks, Dad). These jokes stem from a lack of understanding what I do – not because they don’t want to know, or because I lack enthusiasm for what I study, but because we (my relatives and I) still struggle to find that common ground we so desperately seek.

Here is an example of a struggle with my late father, who volunteered for a marine animal rescue team:

Dad: “Meghan, I have some exciting news! Today I helped rehabilitate a Caretta caretta! Her back fin was badly infected, and boy was she heavy – almost 300 lbs!”

Me: “Oh cool! A what?”

Dad: “A loggerhead turtle. I expected that you’d know the species name since you do biology.”

Me: “Well, I don’t study marine animals. But very cool!”

If I could adequately communicate what I study, I don’t know what kind of response I would expect. Do I expect my audience to understand? Or at least understand how exited I am? One thing I will say about my family is that at least they appreciate how stoked I am about studying “dead things.”

Please feel free to share your stories about not being able to communicate your field of study to a friend/relative/stranger, and perhaps what you did to overcome any barriers for communication.

Meghan Balk is a first year graduate student in Felisa Smith’s lab who is still trying to figure out how to communicate what it is that she studies.

The Ocean is Closer Than You Think…..

2011-03-31T09:12:00.004-06:00

The atmosphere brings us weather, the oceans bring us climate.” -- Dr. William Quinn – Oregon State University (deceased) – Pioneering El Niño Researcher

Many people use the terms weather and climate interchangeably, and although weather and climate are closely related they are most definitely not the same thing. Both are created and influenced by the atmosphere, but weather occurs in the short term while climate is the average condition over long periods of time. Weather is what you notice when you walk out the door every morning—if it’s sunny, rainy, cloudy, breezy. Climate is the long-term average of the weather patterns we experience. Even if we occasionally have a few days of ‘weird’ weather now and then, the long term average of the normal weather patterns determines our climate.

Weather and climate patterns worldwide, including here in the inland desert in Albuquerque, are directly influenced by the oceans. The Pacific Ocean in particular has the greatest influence on worldwide climate and weather simply due to its massive size. Many factors, including the temperature of the ocean’s surface, can have huge impacts on both coastal and inland climate patterns.

Even if you’ve lived here in Albuquerque your whole life, you have lived through many climactic effects directly from the Pacific Ocean-- El Niño or La Niña. Right now, we are in the middle of the strongest La Niña event on record, and inland areas like Albuquerque are no exception to its worldwide climate and weather effects.

La Niña is the name of one phase of a linked ocean & atmosphere system called the El Niño Southern Oscillation (ENSO). The ENSO refers to the ‘flipflop’ of air pressures in the tropical regions of the eastern and western Pacific Ocean accompanied by changes in the average seasurface temperature in the tropical and subtropical Pacific. The pattern is like a seesaw-- the eastern tropical Pacific sea surface temperatures can rise (El Niño) or lower (La Niña), as well as the changes in air pressure can shift from east to west. Since these changes both tend to occur at the same time, scientists describe them together. However, they don’t always occur at the same time or in a regular, predictable cycle.

When the sea surface temperature in the equatorial Pacific Ocean is cooler than average (up to 7^o F) in both the eastern and central Pacific, La Niña conditions occur. This causes significant changes to normal wind, temperature and precipitation patterns worldwide. La Niña is part of a global cycle that happens over the scale of years, and the opposite climate effects and conditions are what we call El Niño. La Niña conditions usually last around one to two years and happen every 3-5 years, but both of these can vary. Sometimes a La Niña event can be followed by an El Niño event, normal conditions, or even another La Niña event!

At first, El Niño doesn’t seem like the kind of name that scientists would give to a weather phenomenon. “El Niño” got its name from local peoples who lived on the west coast of South America because its effects were most visible to them during the Christmas season, when sometimes the fish catch would be less plentiful. Since “El Niño” means the Christ Child in Spanish, some believe that the name came from a belief that the significantly reduced harvest was a sign from God or the Christ child himself. But then again, La Niña doesn’t quite seem like the logical choice for the name for the opposing conditions of El Niño either. “La Niña” first came into use in the mid-1980s, after the phenomenon had been called “Anti-El Niño”by many scientists for years because it was the opposing effect of El Niño. Eventually it was pointed out that calling the opposing effect “Anti-El Niño” could be seen by Spanish speaking individuals as essentially the equivalent of calling a climate phenomenon the “Anti-Christ.” The name was then changed to “La Niña”, but this term took a few years to come into full use.

The effects of La Niña conditions vary across the United States. In the fall and winter, New Mexico and the rest of the Southwest, Southeast and Midwest are warmer and drier than average,while the Northwest is colder and wetter than average in a La Niña year. There can always be events that are an exception, like the record cold that New Mexico experienced this February. However, this is a singular weather incident and El Niño & La Niña are considered climatic conditions, which are average measurements gathered over long periods of time.

Scientists still don’t fully understand exactly how the ENSO system works. Rather, they can only describe its patterns and effects thanks to worldwide long-term climate & weather data sets. These types of long term studies and the data they produce are invaluable tools for scientists in many fields.

Because El Niño & La Niña have to do with sea surface temperatures, scientists are not sure if and how global climate change will affect these phenomena. The rise in sea temperatures linked to global climate change may make the effects of the ENSO stronger or weaker—only time will tell.

Virginia Thompson is a first year graduate student in the UNM Biology department studying ecohydrology, aquatic ecosystems & restoration ecology under Dr. Cliff Dahm.

This is a map of the average world sea surface temperatures for the last month (February 13, 2011-March 12,2011). The colors refer to how much warmer (reds) or colder (blues) than average the sea surface temperature is at that location. Note the different shades of blue over the equatorial and tropical central/western Pacific Ocean. (Courtesy of NOAA)

Want to learn more? Check out the La Niña resources available through NOAA:

http://www.elNiño.noaa.gov/laNiña.html

Arachnophobia

2011-03-22T17:24:00.011-06:00

I’m a biologist, specifically an animal behaviorist. I really like animals, but I’m also arachnophobic-- the very textbook definition. All those shiny eyes, furry bodies, big, venomous fangs, and for some reason, not six, not ten, but eight legs is the magic ingredient to complete the recipe for terrifying. Who ever decided that a person who studies animals has to love all living things? Probably the same people who think I shouldn’t eat meat as an animal lover and that I like children because I’m a woman.

I’m fascinated by the dazzling array of life forms with whom we share this world, from the molds in my applesauce to the giraffes roaming the Serengeti and the plants growing in between. What’s particularly intriguing are all the bizarre ways each one solves the meaning of life: survival and procreation. Thus, I have to admit to a profound respect for the spiders I find utterly repulsive. Fear and loathing should not preclude the enriching knowledge and understanding for things that at first seem distasteful. Know thy enemy, and you may be surprised! For a seemingly simple body plan (two body sections and eight legs), they come in a wild assortment of sizes, colors, shapes, and skills.

While the typical image of a spider is the classic horror movie or the spider used forHalloween decorations, there are many less obvious forms. They can be smaller than a dime or (shudder) the size of a dinner plate! Spiders can be wonderfully exquisite, delicately posing as a flower while waiting for an unsuspecting prey. Others disguise themselves as ants to discourage from becoming a meal themselves. And as if it had just crawled out of the sea, the crab orb weaver sports a spotted, hard, oblong carapace edged by menacing red spikes.

Webs are probably the most conspicuous feature of spiders and what everyone associates with spiders. Spiders are effortless masters of materials chemistry, able to produce several formulas of silk and skilled artisans as they weave their intricate nets.They are mechanical physicists (a subject that I fail miserably at myself) byengineering trip lines that are triggered* with an almost imperceptible touch by some unlucky prey. In mosquito-dense regions, spiders provide a valuable service to humans by weaving spring-loaded webs that lurch forward to catch the cautious mosquito even though it feels the air for webs as it flies.

However, not all spiders catch breakfast in a web. Jumping spiders patrol an area and pounce on their unsuspecting prey. Many tarantulas dig a hole and wait for a beetle (or a bird) to walk over a special ground web that extends into their burrow and vibrates under their feet, a signal to grab the dinner waiting on the doorstep. Imagine how many roaches you don’t see courtesy of spiders. Water spiders exploit a different resource. Breathing the air trapped by small hairs on their bodies, they dive into the waters of a pond to catch aquatic insects and crustaceans for nourishment.

The love lives of spiders are no less interesting. Wolf spider males carefully choose just the right leaf on the ground to resonate a drumming serenade. These same males grow impressive hairpieces on their drumming legs and wave them at females, rivaling Fabio himself. In other species, not unlike many of our own first dates, a hopeful male presents the best meal he can afford to a female. Of course, as for any respectable woman, only the best of the best of these displays will do.

A backbone is certainly no prerequisite for good parenting. A homemade pouch is carefully spun for a precious brood and vigilantly guarded. Some mothers carry their babies on their backs to guide them through their earliest experiences. Others provide a first meal by sacrificing their own flesh.

Despite the fascinating diversity of spider form and behavior, they still petrified me. When I recently went collecting Anolis lizards for my own research (which I do at night because lizards don’t run in their sleep), donning my brand new, very bright, LED headlamp, I suddenly became aware of being completely surrounded by literally thousands of wolf spiders. Standing in my own worst nightmare, I froze, and seriously reconsidered my Ph.D.

*Watch the whole video!

Angela Hung is a fourth year PhD. student in the Kodric-Brown lab at UNM. She is interested in mate choice and is currently studying olfactory mate choice in the brown anole (Anolis sagrei). ahung@unm.edu

Ant mimic jumping spider (Salticidae) (Myrmarachne?) Bangalore, India. Photograph by L. Shyamal.

Wolf spider mother carrying babies on her back in New Mexico. Photo taken by Julieta Betinelli.

Orb weaver spider in Florida, photo taken by Angela Hung.

Species, species, everywhere, even in your own backyard!

2011-03-10T08:56:00.011-07:00

If you wanted to discover a new species of animal, where would you look? Most people would probably guess in some remote tropical jungle. While this may be true for mammals or birds, in the case of insects and other arthropods you do not have to look any further than your own backyard. Insects are the largest group of animals on earth. Currently, there are over 1 million described species; compare that with the little more than 5,000 extant mammals. Even more astounding is that conservative estimates suggest there are upwards of 2.5 million and perhaps as many as 10 million species remaining to be discovered. More over insects play a large role in the ecological landscape. Consider that 85% of the 250,000 species of angiosperms are insect pollinated, while things like tropical termites are responsible for 50-100 % of dead wood consumption in the tropics. However, one does not have to travel to such jungles to find new species of insect. New Mexico still has plenty to be discovered, and that is just what the Museum of Southwestern Biology’s (MSB) Arthropod division attempts to do.

I had the opportunity to interview Dr. Dave Lightfoot, one of the collections managers at the MSB’s Arthropod division and learn about some of the work the MSB’s Arthropod division has done and why New Mexico still has new species being discovered frequently. The answer has to do with the unique location of New Mexico and lack of taxonomic and survey work on insects and other arthropods. The New Mexican insect fauna has been poorly surveyed here as a whole, but is especially lacking in the western regions of the state. The state is also the meeting point of the western and eastern and northern and southern faunal boundaries of many groups of organisms. This means that animals found in all those different regions meet right here, increasing the biodiversity. So the combination of a lack of research and a naturally high biodiversity makes the likelihood of finding new species here in New Mexico high.

Members of the MSB have been a part of numerous surveys of many of New Mexico’s national parks, as well as surveys outside of the state. During survey work at the national monuments and parks, 15 new species of arthropod were discovered at El Malpais, 3 new species of arthropod were discovered at Bandelier, and a current survey in White Sands National Monument has yielded 5 definite new species and 10-20 potential new species. UNM’s very own graduate student Karen Wetherill who works on native bees within the Sevilleta Long Term Ecological Research center has identified 16 new species of bee. But new discoveries are happening in New Mexico outside of the boundaries of national parks and research centers. Dr. Lightfoot discovered 3 new grasshopper species, and other workers in the state have identified 5 undescribed Jerusalem crickets (Orthoptera: Stenopelmatus). This is where things get really interesting. The common cricket (Gryllus) that you hear calling at night in your very own backyard is more than meets the eye. What many would believe to be one and the same species of cricket is actually about 8 undescribed species hanging out in our very backyards just waiting to be described!

Despite insects being the majority of terrestrial animal life in terms of numbers of species, they frequently are neglected perhaps because of their size, but certainly not because of their diversity, beauty, or fascinating behavior and body forms. And despite the vast size of the group there is a dearth of taxonomic workers in the field. New Mexico has a unique environment where new discoveries await to be uncovered. Any New Mexican who creates a well-curated insect collection could very well have new species that could be described and named. If you are interested in joining the rewarding field of entomology please contact the Museum of Southwestern Biology’s Arthropod division for information on how you can help. We are always happy to share our passion for the silent majority, the arthropods.

Grey Gustafson is a first year PhD student in the Miller lab and the Museum of Southwestern Biology. He is interested in the systematics of whirligig beetles.

The image above is a speciescape, in which the size of an individual organism is approximately proportional to the number of described species in the higher taxon it represents. i.e. the large fly represents insects and the tiny elk represents mammals. If you were to show all arthropod species you would have to add the mite to the fly to get an even larger organism. This image is from Gulan and Cranston's 2005, The insects: an outline of entomology.

Flocculating Faith from Science

2011-03-03T10:38:00.004-07:00

“It is not atheists who get stuck in my craw, but agnostics. Doubt is useful for a while... If Christ spent an anguished night in prayer, if He burst out from the Cross, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ then surely we are also permitted doubt. But we must move on. To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation” (Yann Martel, Life of Pi).

My partner is not a scientist, which is enough cultural difference to provide fertile ground for many debates. One topic we take up often is religion. He, an atheist, renounces all religion. I, an agnostic, accuse him of being religious. His definition of religion is belief in God. My definition of religion is belief in anything that can’t be proven. Atheists and theists alike suffer from the misconception that atheism is more in line with science than other religions because it shares a cosmology (history of life, the universe and everything) with science. But science is not founded on a cosmology, it is founded on a formal process of exploration, the scientific method. Ultimate truth is unknowable, and thus any current version of the truth is inaccurate and must one day be traded for a better truth. To practice the scientific method is to practice objectivity and the careful cultivation of agnosticism. Atheists violate this method by extrapolating conclusions that are not supported by data to make statements about God. Because it disregards the scientific method, atheism, like theism, is not a philosophy of science.

Scientists make a clear distinction between hypotheses, data, and conclusions. A hypothesis is a hypothetical answer to a question about natural phenomenon, and is always paired with a ‘devil’s advocate’ hypothesis. Experiments are designed to pit these two hypotheses against each other, and should provide data that supports only one of these hypotheses. Once a conclusion is drawn the process begins again, pitting the winning hypothesis against more ‘devils advocates.’ A hypothesis becomes a conclusion when supported by enough data. But there is always a chance that the data could equally support an unconsidered hypothesis, and thus no conclusion is accepted unconditionally. Observations supported Newtonian physics for centuries until technology improved and we could make finer observations. The theory of relativity took the place of Newtonian physics because it is more consistent with new data. A scientific cosmology can only last as long as belief in it does not require forsaking these protocols of observation.

Atheism is founded in faith not data. What experiment could be designed in which one set of data could only mean God existed and another set of data could only mean God didn’t exist? No experiment can pit hypotheses about God against each other with conclusive results and thus no scientific conclusion can be made regarding a deity. My partner believes evidence against God exists: ‘Scientific evidence contradicts several biblical claims so God must not exist,’ ‘different Gods exist everywhere with different messages so God must not exist,’ ‘we have no evidence that God exists.’ Leaps of faith are required to reach conclusions about God from this ‘evidence.’

From the body of data indicating the earth is older than stated in the Bible, for example, we can merely conclude that the data indicates the earth is older than stated in the Bible. Those experiments were designed to test the age of the earth, therefore the results have no bearing on the Biblical claim that there is a God, or the Biblical claim that there was a man named Job who suffered much misfortune, or the Hindu claim that there is a pantheon. That different religions have different God hypotheses does not give weight to, let alone proof for, the hypothesis that there is no God. Hypotheses do not prove hypotheses, data do, and lack of data for existence is not proof of non-existence. Besides, claiming there is no data for a deity disregards the enormous dataset provided by the majority of the human population from the majority of cultures across recorded history who have had religious experiences. Perhaps these observations are faulty. Many alternative hypotheses reasonably explain religious experience, yet none have been proven, so while this is reason to be skeptical of these observations it is not reason to disregard them.

Science is not at war with God. It cannot comment on God one way or another. We are all human and even scientists believe in unfalsifiable hypotheses, and are imperfect followers of their own creed. But we practice holding personal opinion in a space of the mind where it doesn’t interfere with observation, not confusing hypotheses with conclusions, and taking conclusions with a grain of salt. To have faith in one truth requires disregarding competing truths, and potentially closing the mind to new conflicting information. By keeping all information in mind we hope to avoid overlooking hidden truths. Despite lack of data, Atheists have faith their cosmology is truth. Scientists have faith only that data will bring us closer to a truth that we will never know.

Sarah Hicks is a second year PhD student in the Sinsabaugh lab at UNM. She studies fungal symbionts in plant roots.

The Inner Scientist

2011-02-23T09:42:00.003-07:00

Can you pick a scientist out of a crowd of people? Will you be looking for the guy in a lab coat wearing glasses and toting a microscope? Do your eyes automatically go to a nerdy looking guy wearing a safari hat, khaki cargo shorts and socks pulled up to his knees? There are endless examples of what a scientist can look like, and what a scientist can be. A scientist can be someone wearing a lab coat and using a microscope, or can be a mischievous seven-year old who is constantly catching critters to show everyone how cool they are. While some scientists will dress in a particular style that is the norm for their field, it is rarely so easy to label someone off the street as “obviously a scientist.” One of the great things about science is that diversity exists not only in fields of study, but also in the people it attracts. People that want to be doctors, dentists, researchers, teachers, those whose interest is purely recreational and the list goes on. This presents some other questions. What drives someone to want to become a scientist? Are there core personality traits that make interest in science more likely?

I recently finished a volunteer training course to become a Court Appointed Special Advocate (CASA) for children who are in foster care where I was not immediately identified as “a science type.” When asked by others in my class what I was going to school for I replied I was a majoring in Biology and Psychology. More than once the response I got was, “Biology, huh, that is a strange thing to be majoring in. Why are you majoring in Biology?” There is a simple answer to the question: I want to go to dental school and that requires me to take many science classes. But, there is also another reason, I love to learn and explore. I have always been a scientist at heart. As a child I was constantly getting into things that I maybe should not have been. I collected bugs (including live stink bugs), sniffed every ponderosa tree to see if it smelled different than the last, put my practical knowledge of physics to the test by climbing on branches I wasn’t sure could support my weight, and even dissected a dead rattle snake I found squished in the road. I never lost that interest in the world around me. Biology as a major catered to my interests as well as meeting the pre-requisites for dental school. It seemed like a natural fit to me though I do not always look the part.

Every scientist has their own reasons why they are interested in science and it probably has nothing to do with how they look. For me it started with curiosity about the world around me and a constant quest for more information. Every question I had required investigation to find the answer, and every answer I found produced more questions. That is what I love about science. I have the ability continue my childhood explorations into my adult life and into my future career. Now I want to know: what sparked your interest in science? What role did your personality play in your experience with science? In other words, why did you decide to become a scientist?

Elizabeth “Ellie” Perkins is a UNM Undergraduate student majoring in Biology and Psychology, and lifelong Scientist

Money, Genes, and Identity

2011-02-17T07:19:00.002-07:00

“I’m not surprised that scientists have traced all human lines back to Africa,” she said conspiratorially, “that’s where the aliens landed 100,000 years ago and brought the first humans to Earth.”

The woman on the phone was dead serious. I don’t remember how I responded to her statement, but it wasn’t the first or last time I heard an unusual remark about human evolution in the course of my workweek. At the time, I was a customer liaison at Genetic Testing, Inc. The company sold two basic tests: a 12-marker Y-chromosome test and a test for a variable section of mitochondrial DNA. For roughly $100, the customer could order the test kit, perform a cheek swab, and send the specimen to our laboratory. Six weeks later they would recieve a tidy packet of information assigning them to a branch of the “human family tree” and telling them about the “deep ancestry” and migration patterns of the line tested. The customers could access the company database to connect with people whose test results matched their own. Y-chromosome testing was often used by genealogists constructing histories of their surnames (conveniently passed from father to son like the Y-chromosome), expanding their family trees with the addition of new customers.

Despite the perceived simplicity of the tests, addressing peoples’ expectations about genetic genealogy testing could be challenging. I interacted with hundreds of people daily and rapidly came to two conclusions about the psychology of our customers. First, few of them understood how genetic tests work or what the results meant; second, people have an insatiable hunger for knowledge that fleshes out their family histories in even the tiniest way. Many will pay significant sums for these tiny jewels of knowledge.

The first conclusion was obvious from the start. People didn’t particularly care about how the tests worked. In fact, in a year working at the company, I never had a single inquiry into the methodology or technology behind these tests. Instead, I constantly received questions such as:

“Is it true that some people evolved from monkeys? Because I saw this guy walking down the street and he looked just like a gorilla.”

“What if someone breaks into your lab and steals my DNA to plant it at a crime scene?”

“What did Adam and Eve’s DNA look like?”

I found these questions entertaining but extremely disconcerting, because they demonstrated a complete lack of understanding about basic biology. What bothered me more was that people actually thought they were learning something about their family history by taking a “deep ancestry” test. Both Y-chromosome and mitochondrial DNA are passed on along a direct line that is virtually unchanged. For example, you received your mitochondrial DNA from your mother, who got it from her mother, who got it from her mother, and so on. If you trace the mitochondrial line back, your mother’s mother’s mother only represents about an eighth of your genetic makeup and her mother only one sixteenth. Going back only 500 years, roughly 20 human generations, how much of your genetic makeup comes from each ancestor? The answer is less than one millionth. If mitochondrial genetic test are telling you about your ancient maternal lineage, even as far back as only 5,000 years, then only a very miniscule portion of your genealogical heritage is represented by the mitochondrial line.

Despite spending hours on the phone explaining this to customers, many were still either devastated or elated when the results came in. Families of Caucasian ancestry frequently have stories of a Native American grandmother (mine does, too). On the other hand, Hispanic Americans sometimes insist that they do not have any Native American grandmothers. Genetic testing of mitochondrial lines often shows the opposite. One woman tested her father three times when she discovered his DNA matched a group of Ashkenazi Jewish customers in the database. After the final test, she called and screamed at the company owner, personally, for ruining her life. On the other hand, many customers were delighted to find that their paternal lines were Ashkenazi, and several decided to convert to Judaism.

Occasionally, families discover that the y-chromosomes of fathers and sons don’t match up, exposing deep, dark family secrets. In one such instance a young man questioned his mother about his paternity, and she admitted to an incestuous relationship with her brother. On the other hand, sometimes men who had been adopted matched a surname group. This sometimes provided them a new sense of identity. Despite the risk of uncovering potentially damaging information, surname projects were wildly popular and allowed distant relatives to connect and share what family history they had already gathered.

That people were so moved by the results of their genetic tests suggests that some humans are quite tuned in to the perceived social status of their ancestors and speaks of the profound impact of our family stories in building our personal identities. At the same time, many people do not apply any logic to go about “proving” their family stories and concrete empirical evidence may not persuade them that the stories may be just-so stories. Genetic testing ultimately reveals more about human psychology than genealogical identity.

My work at Genetic Testing, Inc. left me with interesting ethical and philosophical questions. How much can our genetics tell us about our identities? Do customers need to better understand the risks of uncovering non-paternity or discovering that their family stories are false? As scientists, can we accept our own family histories as un-falsifiable? How can we improve public dissemination of basic evolutionary biology? Is it our responsibility?

I welcome responses from the BioBlog community.

Sierra Netz is a 2^nd year graduate student in the Turner Lab at UNM.

Scenic Vistas, Rats, and Thorns in the Valley of Death

2011-02-10T09:14:00.009-07:00

My colleagues and I have been sitting in the car for more than twelve hours on our journey from New Mexico to California. The view outside of my window is pitch black, I can see nothing. The last stretch of road into Death Valley is a long descent, so while at the moment I can’t appreciate the scenery, the feeling in my stomach is telling me that we’re getting close. It has been a long day, but we manage to set up camp in the dark without too much trouble. We have a lot of work ahead of us over the next few days.

Morning comes quickly and my first encounter with the Death Valley natives is a raven croaking loudly in our campsite at the crack of dawn. My frustration is quickly replaced with awe when I view my surroundings for the first time: we are on the moon. In reality we’re about 200 feet below sea level, at the bottom of an ancient lake that disappeared thousands of years ago. It is dry, stark, but strangely beautiful.

Death Valley is aptly named, and has been called the closest thing to “Hell on Earth.” Temperatures can exceed 120F for months on end with virtually no relief at night. Ground temperatures can be over 200F; hot enough to melt tennis shoes or fry an egg. An ill-prepared tourist dies every few years when they try to hike in the midday heat. It’s hard to imagine anything living in such an inhospitable place; but that is why we’re here. Our research group is collecting data about the desert woodrat (Neotoma lepida), to find out how it survives in such an extreme environment. Thankfully, November is a comfortable month for us to be there.

Our team spends the next two days gathering information about the local woodrat population at Furnace Creek. We’re collecting clippings of mesquite, the sole plant available to these woodrats. Mesquite is everything: home, food, and water. This vicious looking plant is also an effective deterrent to predators, a fact that anyone in our team can attest to. Every one of us encounters glove-piercing one-inch long thorns. But, science comes with costs, and sore fingers are a small price to pay. Furthermore, it’s the only way to find out what these animals are getting from this plant. We’ll bring the materials back to UNM to determine, among other things, how much water is available to the woodrats from different plant tissues. Our lab group is collecting this data because, despite their name, desert woodrats are lousy desert animals. They expanded into the local area during the last ice age, when the area was a juniper forest surrounding a massive lake. When the climate changed, and the lake dried up, the woodrats were stranded in a place different from where they originally evolved. Their survival is a mystery.

Back at the campsite we successfully trap a live woodrat to get a better look at one. As soon as we wrangle it out of the trap it urinates on my adviser. If it were July this animal would have just wasted a precious resource, water, a decision that may result in death. Despite the odds, this crummy desert rodent is thriving in Death Valley. I can’t help but think of all the humans who suffer from heat exhaustion (or worse) during peak tourist season in the summer.

Melissa Pardi is a first year PhD student in the Smith Lab at the Department of Biology at UNM. She studies the paleoecology of mammals.

Don't let the narrow minds get you down

2011-02-04T11:50:00.002-07:00

I read with interest Professor Jim Brown’s blog discussing the ideological opposition he and colleagues experienced with recent efforts to publish their work on economics and energy limitations. I sympathize with their disappointment, because of my own history of receiving the wrath of the political correctness “police” forces. Orwell was correct in saying that efforts to suppress knowledge derive from both poles of the political-values spectrum. As a kid growing up in a very conservative culture (the Old South), I was frequently reminded that “curiosity killed the cat.” Curiosity and wonderment were ways of thinking that were normatively incorrect, even immoral. Being politically correct was thinking only in rigidly traditional ways. Furthermore, I am left-handed, which in my natal culture was also an unacceptable curiosity. (Recently [2010], it was reported in the scientific literature that the percentage of left handers declines linearly and strongly with the degree of conservatism across countries of the world.) Later, I entered academics, generally a relatively open-minded or liberal subculture, but it was not long before I encountered other forces of political correctness and provincialism that valued their intuitions more than evidence in interpreting the world.

My first skirmish was with the old guard in entomology when I was a graduate student. They found it intuitively unreasonable to consider that female scorpionflies may be sophisticated enough to choose their mates. At an international congress of entomology, I was laughed off the stage when I gave an evidence-filled presentation showing that female scorpionflies choose mates.

In the early 1980s, when I began publishing papers on the evolution of human behavior and psychology, I evoked some other very dark, anti-intellectual sides of academia. For instance, in 1982, my scheduled lecture at Boston University had to be cancelled because of the warnings and threats from local academic groups conveyed to the organizers of my visit to that campus. Many people, academic and otherwise, while proclaiming their liberal values, will simultaneously express moral disgust with the empirical facts that human behavior and psychology are informed importantly by evolutionary theory. The telling inconsistency with this is the strong, positive association between liberalism and openness to science and ideas in general. As a result of my publications, for a time in 2000, the campus police escorted me to and from my classes. A colleague gave me his grizzly-bear repellant spray to deter attackers, and the Bernalillo Co. sheriff put a message on my home telephone telling callers it is against the law to call and threaten to kill people. My life and my family’s lives were threatened repeatedly.

A major tragedy of anti-intellectualism, regardless of its source on the political continuum, is the negative influence it can have on young scholars. Given the heat often associated with intellectual curiosity and associated research that questions hallowed ideology and common sense, young scholars may be dissuaded from such research paths. It is just easier to not think about, question or threaten the status quo inside or outside of academia. Given my experiences, young scholars occasionally contact me for advice after they encounter the wrath of political correctness because of their thinking and research. I tell them some stories about my encounters with the forces of darkness inside and outside of academia, and often mention the comment made by Charles Darwin in his second book on evolution, Descent of Man and Selection in Relation to Sex. In essence, he said that his ideas and findings in his first book on evolution, On the Origin of Species, had made many, many people feel bad and had questioned the hallowed beliefs of virtually all literate people of the time. As a Victorian gentleman, he added he was sorry about the misery he had caused so many people, but he then concluded that there is something far more important than hurting people’s feelings and insulting their intuition and sacred “knowledge”—the most precious thing, he emphasized, is truth.

I was delighted to see that a number of young scholars were co-authors on the BioScience paper Jim Brown mentions. I applaud their commitment to science’s goal—the thing emphasized by Darwin. Any person with a genuine interest in knowledge and a concern for the future of the human animal on planet Earth would find their evidence and arguments of great interest. The day I read their BioScience paper, I felt great pride in being a member of our department.

Randy Thornhill, Distinguished Professor of Biology, The University of New Mexico

Taunted by Torrent Ducks in the Río Apurímac

2011-01-31T14:17:00.009-07:00

I am in chest-deep water and braced against the vertical face of a rock. My hands are grasping the ends of a broken aluminum pole linked to a 3-by-12-meter net. If I let go the rushing Andean river will carry away the pole and net within seconds. The net, impossible to replace from here in Peru, has filled with algae, which weighed it down. It was pure luck that I was wading out to the pole as it broke, and even more luck that I managed to catch the pole as it flew past me on its way downstream. My two field partners, an American graduate student, Andrea, and a Peruvian biologist assisting us, Luis, are nowhere to be seen. Downstream, one of the Torrent Ducks (Merganetta armata) we are trying to catch taunts me, swimming easily through the water, hopping onto a rock, and preening as if it knows my nets and I are currently of no concern.

Two minutes pass. I try again, but am just not strong enough to haul in the algae-laden net against the tremendous force of the rushing river. My arms are shaking from the effort. I cannot walk towards the other end of the net, still attached to a precarious pole in the middle of the river, without risking losing my footing and being swept downstream myself. The only solution is to wait for one of my friends to come by, see my predicament, and help.

Usually our system of nets works great for capturing Torrent Ducks, powerful swimmers that live in the clear, rapidly flowing rivers of the Andes. After spotting a family of ducks, we string two 12-meter long nets across the river downstream of the ducks. One of us hides near the net, waiting to pluck any precious duck we capture out of the water as quickly as possible. The others head upriver, staying out of sight so as not to scare the ducks. When we reach the ducks, we attempt to herd the family by startling them into swimming downriver and into the net. On a very good day, we can capture and process an entire family - male, female, and two adolescent offspring - in five hours. Other days we fail to capture a single duck.

Captured ducks are rushed to our truck to be banded for later reidentification. We also carefully draw blood for genetic, physiological, and toxicological studies and take notes on age, sex, and feather molt. When finished, we carry the indignantly quacking duck back to the river to be released before it overheats or becomes stressed. We use the blood to measure hematocrit and hemoglobin levels (indications of the blood’s ability to carry and deliver oxygen), which tell us how well these ducks are adapted to life at high elevation with low levels of oxygen. When she returns to the US, Andrea will also use the samples to test for toxins such as lead and to study the genetic structuring of the population.

I am here helping Andrea collect data for her thesis while also collecting data for my own project. In the afternoons, after we’ve caught our duck family for the day, Luis, Andrea, and I set up mist-nets in the dry, thorny habitat of the west slope of the Andes to capture the songbirds and hummingbirds I study. This kind of collaboration works well: we share travel costs, field assistants, equipment, and camping gear, as well as help with each other’s research.

After what seems like a half hour to my aching muscles, but is probably closer to 5 minutes, Andrea and Luis arrive. Together, the three of us manage to haul the nets and poles out of the raging river, with only a few spills, a couple bruises, and no major injuries. Shivering from the cold water, we inspect our nets: no new holes, but they are so filled with algae it will take us hours to pick it all out. We return to camp to spend the afternoon tediously picking algae out of the nets. This morning’s five hours of work have yielded no ducks, and therefore no data. On the bright side, I imagine the local ducks had an entertaining morning of watching three humans struggle in the environment that Torrent Ducks find most inviting.

Natalie Wright is a third year Ph.D. student in the Witt Lab in the Department of Biology at UNM

Human ecology, political correctness, and Orwell-speak

2011-01-29T11:46:00.002-07:00

“Political language -- and with variations this is true of all political parties, from Conservatives to Anarchists -- is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind.” (George Orwell, "Politics and the English Language", 1946).

Given the more than 40 years that I have been in this business, I have only recently become aware of the extent to which science can be shaded and suppressed by those with power and political agendas. You may have seen the letter on climate change in the May 7, 2010 issue of Science magazine signed by many members of the National Academy of Sciences:

http://www.sciencemag.org/content/328/5979/689.full

We signatories believed that this letter was necessary because of the misinformation and politicization on this serious scientific issue, which has enormous implications for the future of humankind. What could also be said is that many in the economics establishment had long resisted incorporating the science of climate change into public policy and government action for fear that it would compromise prospects for economic growth.

Our own efforts to apply rigorous ecological science to various aspects of “human ecology” come up against entrenched interests in economics, sociology, and sustainability science. Here are two examples:

1) Energy and economics: In the January issue of BioScience we published a paper on “Energetic Limits to Economic Growth” http://www.aibs.org/bioscience/current_issue.html. This paper was previously submitted to and rejected by Science, Nature, and PNAS. Ostensibly peer reviewers made the following criticisms: 1) “nothing new”; 2) “very dangerous from a policy point of view”; 3) “too sloppy and too based on opinion rather than carefully constructed evidence”; 4) “the idea that future energy services, regardless of time horizon, will be limited by "the laws and thermodynamics and the principles of ecology" is preposterous”; and 5) “the total amount of solar energy falling on the Earth is about 100 times the amount of energy used, so that simple thermodynamic constraints are hardly relevant”. Interestingly, none of the negative reviewers pointed out any flaws in our data and analyses, which are published essentially unchanged from the versions submitted to the above journals. I leave it to you to assess the merits of these comments and their implications for the scientific integrity of the peer review process.

2) Sustainability: Our manuscript for a perspectives piece entitled “Sustainability Science Needs More Ecological Science” was recently rejected by PNAS. The editor wrote “Your point might be interpreted as saying not that … the people who do "sustainability science" are headed down a wrong road. That does not seem a sufficiently compelling point to the referees.” Our point was that the people who do "sustainability science", by not taking into consideration ecological principles and data, are in danger of drawing unjustified and unduly optimistic conclusions about the earth’s capacity to support current and projected levels of human population, resource use, and socioeconomic development. Many sustainability scientists would have us believe that we are making progress track toward “global sustainability”. For example: “New Delhi, 4 February 2010 - The World Business Council for Sustainable Development (WBCSD) today launched the Vision 2050 report ( 2.6 MB), a study that lays out a pathway leading to a global population of some 9 billion people living well, within the resource limits of the planet by 2050.” http://www.wbcsd.org/Plugins/DocSearch/details.asp?DocTypeId=33&ObjectId=Mzc0MDE

But such claims are not based on any rigorous analysis of human ecology and current conflicting trends of increasing resource use and decreasing resource stocks (fossil fuel energy, freshwater, agricultural land, fisheries, etc.). So what does the used word “sustainability” mean? The dictionary definition implies an activity that can be continued indefinitely. Our third main point was that “Most sustainability science focuses on efforts to improve standards of living and reduce environmental impacts at local to regional scales. The embedding problem [all these systems are embedded in and dependent upon the biosphere] means that these efforts will ultimately and inevitably fail unless the global system is sustainable.” A reviewer wrote “No serious author of sustainability suggests that for an entity to be sustainable, it must be self sustaining.” But unless humans on earth can become self-sustainable, sustainability claims and programs amount to little more than efforts to be “relatively green”.

We believe that energy limitation and sustainability are on a par with climate change in their importance for the future of humanity. They should be studied using our best science, uninhibited by vested interests and political considerations. What do others think?

James H. Brown

Distinguished Professor of Biology, University of New Mexico, Albuquerque, NM 87131

email: jhbrown@unm.edu

More example blogs

2011-01-25T09:42:00.002-07:00

Here are some additional Science blogs to check out. They were provided by Jenny.

Age of Engagement: Communication, culture, and public affairs http://bigthink.com/blogs/age-of-engagement
Information is Beautiful: Ideas, issues, knowledge, data - visualized! http://www.informationisbeautiful.net/
Culturing Science – biology as relevant to us earthly beings http://culturingscience.wordpress.com/
FemaleScienceProfessor: Musings of a science professor at a large research university http://science-professor.blogspot.com/
Neuroanthropology: Understanding the Encultured Brain and Body http://blogs.plos.org/neuroanthropology/

NY Time Science Blog

2011-01-21T11:24:00.004-07:00

Welcome to the UNM BioBlog - a community blog about biology written by biologists.

For now, here is a link to a new Science Blog from the New York Times.

http://scientistatwork.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/10/09/on-guadalcanal-studying-evolution/

Cheers.

Inception

2010-10-06T17:04:00.003-06:00

Definition of INCEPTION

: an act, process, or instance of beginning : commencement

Examples of INCEPTION

The project has been shrouded in controversy from itsinception.
Since its inception, the business has expanded to become a national retail chain.
We'll assist you at every stage from inception to completion.

Origin of INCEPTION

Middle English incepcion, from Latin inception-, inceptio,from incipere to begin, from in- + capere to take

First Known Use: 15th century