Showing posts with label palaeontology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label palaeontology. Show all posts

Sunday, 16 October 2011

New Forest and Old Fossils

It’s not been all work, work, work with me though – I took a ‘break’ in mid-September to visit various bits of southern and western England. I attended the SVPCA (Society of Vertebrate Palaeontology and Comparative Anatomy) symposium in Lyme Regis, Dorset; visited the New Forest Reptile Centre in Hampshire, as well as Axe Valley Park in Devon; London Wetland Centre’s sister reserve in Slimbridge, Gloucester; and the amazing Crocodiles of the World in Oxfordshire. For now though, I’ll fill you in on one of the cooler highlights from Hampshire and a bit about SVPCA.

The Reptile Centre is located within the New Forest, a nationally important area of lowland heath and open woodland in Hampshire, southern England. The facility consists of a few open air terraria, each containing a number of reptiles and amphibians, all native to or otherwise found in the UK. All of Britain’s snakes are represented, as are the three native lizards, as well as two toads and two frogs.



Natterjack toad
Epidalea calamita (Laurenti, 1768)
Bufonidae; Anura; Amphibia; Chordata
New Forest Reptile Centre, Hampshire
September 2011

The natterjack toad the rarer of Britain’s two toad species, and is easily distinguished from the common toad (Bufo bufo) by the yellow dorsal stripe. It’s not certain whether the toad is native to the UK or introduced from mainland Europe, but either way, it is protected by law, and is restricted to such areas of lowland heath as the New Forest.



Female adder
Vipera berus (Linnaeus, 1758)
Viperidae; Squamata; Sauropsida; Chordata
New Forest Reptile Centre, Hampshire
September 2011

The adder is Britain’s only venomous snake. It is not as venomous as other vipers, however, and is very rarely fatal to humans. Even so, it’s not exactly heaven being bitten, with recovery taking up to a year if it doesn’t kill you. Males and females differ in their coloration, with the female being a less-contrasted version of the male’s black and grey zig-zag motif. Occasionally, but more often in continental Europe than in Britain, melanistic individuals occur, and of course the black adder has given its name to this.



Smooth snake
Coronella austriaca Laurenti, 1768
Colubridae; Squamata; Sauropsida; Chordata
New Forest Reptile Centre, Hampshire
September 2011

The smooth snake is the rarest of Britain’s snakes, restricted to lowland heath, much like the natterjack toad and sand lizard (Lacerta agilis). Its generic name, Coronella, comes from the little dark crown present on the top of the head.

SVPCA was fascinating, with talks on subjects such as afrotherian tooth eruption, sauropod necks, well-preserved ankylosaurs, Dorset’s own basal thyreophoran (that would be Scelidosaurus harrisonii), and a seemingly countless array of pterosaurs. For me, the true highlight of the symposium was the auction held one evening to raise money for the Jones-Fenleigh fund which helps students without institutional backing to attend the yearly conference. The majority of items for sale were journal reprints, but prints by the excellent palaeo-artists Bob Nicholls and Luis Rey were also available. I didn’t bid, as I had a budget of £5, but was entertained by compère and palaeoichthyologist Jeff Liston. A series of public lectures were given by some of the bigger names in British palaeontology: I attended those given by Michael Benton (on extinction in general, and the Permian-Triassic extinction event in particular), David Norman (on the history of British dinosaurology), and Mark Witton (on the modern pterosaur revolution). All were excellent of course. Hopefully next year I’ll have something of my own to present, but I won’t say any more on that just yet.

Wednesday, 22 December 2010

Happy Holidays!



















Happy Holidays to all The Disillusioned Taxonomist readers!

Special announcement for 200th post... you'll have to wait till after Crimbo, I'm afraid!!

Thursday, 9 December 2010

Interview with Brian Switek

Here follows an interview with Brian Switek, author of Written in Stone, the blogs Laelaps and Dinosaur Tracking, and several popular and academic articles.

Can you describe your sense of pride upon having a book and several articles published? Can you compare it to anything?

That's actually a tricky one to answer. There was no single, satisfying moment when I laid down the book manuscript, heaved a sigh, and said "It is finished" with a smile on my face. Quite the opposite. When I send off the last of the edits for the book my first thought was "Shit, what am I going to do now?"

Freelancing is tough. During the work week I spend most of any given day at an office job unrelated to my interests and I squeeze in whatever writing I can when I get home. As soon as I finish one essay or story I immediately start thinking of what I am going to do next and where I am going to pitch it. I have been successful with writing and I am proud of having written a book, but, since there has not been any change to my day-to-day life, I can't say that I feel any different. I'm still in "sink or swim" mode. There are simply too many things to write!

Nevertheless, the response to
Written in Stone has been wonderful. Its publication made me anxious initially - I had no idea how it would be received - but I have not seen a bad review yet. I am thrilled that so many readers, with so many different backgrounds, have enjoyed the book.


With respect to the recent debate that took place on the Dinosaur Mailing List, how much importance do you think using the correct words is in forming scientific names, for example, using correct spellings of foreign words? Are you of the opinion that ignorance of such subjects sets a poor example to future generations, despite it being negligible to the actual science involved? Is there a difference between "dead" languages such as Latin, and those which are more alien to the western ear, such as Chinese?

If you are going to name a new species, you had best do it right. Regardless of whether that name has Latin roots or is being derived from another language, I think scientists have a responsibility to check and double check that the name is spelled correctly and otherwise linguistically accurate. Does a bad or misspelled name significantly hurt paleontology? I don't think so - the bones don't change even the name used to categorize them does - but making sure that words are being used correctly is just part of good science. For my own part, though, misspelled names don't bother me at all. If the recognized name for a species is misspelled, there is nothing I can do about it.


Without wanting to create some sort of patriotic rivalry, in your opinion, which country's scientists have done more for the sake of furthering the human understanding of the prehistoric world, Britain or America?

I am not going to be happy with either choice - scientists and naturalists from both countries have contributed greatly to our understanding of the history of life - but, if I must choose, I think I have to say the United States. Specifically, your question makes me think of the rapid development of American paleontology during the late 19th century when E.D. Cope and O.C. Marsh (plus their various students, assistants, and field crews) dug into the west and found creatures unlike any seen anywhere before. The creatures they were discovering were not only unique, but were also scrutinized in regard to what they could tell us about evolution - the toothed birds (Ichthyornis, Hesperornis) and multi-toed horses Marsh found, in particular, thrilled British evolutionists like Charles Darwin and Thomas Henry Huxley. And, perhaps more importantly, the opening of the American west showed that the strata of Europe could not be taken as a near-complete proxy for the fossil record elsewhere. There was much left to discover elsewhere.

After the "Bone Wars" era, paleontology became more formally ensconced in American universities and museums. True, many expeditions were sent to find the biggest and best dinosaur skeletons, but many paleontologists (Elmer Riggs, W.B. Scott, William Diller Matthew, etc.) were very interested in what fossil mammals could tell us about evolutionary change. Granted, paleontology did go through a lull during the mid-20th century, but by the 1970's the field was reinvigorated by researchers like Tom Schopf, Stephen Jay Gould, Niles Eldredge, Steven Stanley, David Raup, Jack Sepkoski, and others who turned the science into an interdisciplinary pursuit of extreme importance to evolutionary questions. This "Paleobiological Revolution" continues today, although given the exchange of scientists and ideas between countries I don't think of things in a delineated pattern of strictly American and British paleontology traditions.

As I said, I am not very happy having to pick sides, but I think the spectacular geology of North America helped paleontology take off once it became established in the United States. It is a bit of historical contingency which allowed the science to flourish here.



We know that DNA and other molecules have become important in recent decades in revolutionising our view of true phylogenies in living taxa, but how much of a role can such data seriously play in interpreting fossil groups? In your opinion, as technology improves, will molecular data become a significant part of palaeontological practice, or will we [hopefully!] revert to a more classic, anatomically-based study? [You can tell what I think; this is why I called my blog 'The Disillusioned Taxonomist' after all!]

Obviously molecular phylogenies are extremely limited in their ability to tell us about fossil groups. If a lineage is entirely extinct - and there are many, many such lineages - they molecular phylogenies cannot take them into account. Take the now-resolved debate over the origin of whales, for example. During the 1980's and 1990's paleontologists preferred mesonychids (hoofed, predatory mammals) as whale ancestors on the basis of their teeth but geneticists and molecular biologists kept finding that whales grouped close to hippos and often within the artiodactyl family tree. Both groups were using different data sets, and molecular biologists could not include mesonychids because they became extinct long ago. What the molecular phylogenies did was - using data from modern mammals - make a prediction about what might be expected. Eventually the fossil data confirmed that whales are highly-specialized artiodactyls, but the debate over the placement of the mesonychids highlights the difficulty involved in determining evolutionary relationships when (most) extinct taxa are out of the reach of molecular biologists.

But, as the debate over whale origins showed, I think an interdisciplinary approach can be useful to paleontologists. After all, any phylogeny is a hypothesis that is bound to shift as we learn more. (I can't even count all the phylogenies of theropod dinosaurs there have been...) Phylogenies are definitively provisional, and I think that molecular phylogenies can sometimes be useful in making predictions about relationships that can then be tested with data from the fossil record. If the origin of a particular group is unknown, for example, but a molecular phylogeny shows that two lineages are close together and shared a common ancestor, then paleontologists can examine the fossil evidence to see whether or not this relationship holds up. I don't really think about this debate in terms of which method is superior or inferior. Molecular phylogenies and anatomically-based phylogenies can be used as tools that test and complement each other, so I think a combined approach may continue to be fruitful (even if it initially creates more discord than agreement).



Thanks to Brian Switek for answering my questions, now go and read his book!

Book Review: Written in Stone



Written in Stone is the first book by the incredibly talented science blogger Brian Switek (above), most famous for his blog Laelaps formerly of Science Blogs, now of Wired Science, and the exclusively dinosaurian blog Dinosaur Tracking of the Smithsonian. It’s no surprise then, that his book is a masterpiece. I shall refrain from using any more clichés in the following review, I hope.

The book is broken up into nine main chapters, an introduction, and a conclusion, each with alliterative or otherwise memorable titles. Each also begins with a classic quote, many of which are Biblical. You might think this strange from a book about evolution, a process which is wholeheartedly denied by the Bible and its followers, but these quotes work both as a prelude to the chapter you are soon to read, and an example of the frameset of the pre-twentieth century scholar who would have taken the word of God as written in the Bible as undeniable truth (I avoided saying ‘gospel’ there, phew!)

The book’s introductory chapter, titled Missing Links, begins with the very familiar story of ‘Ida’ the famous specimen of Darwinius masillae which had a book and two television documentaries made in its honour. The story is familiar to me because I too watched the story unfold from hyped headlines into a media explosion back in May last year, and did my part for ‘Ida-fest’ by reviewing the BBC documentary about the discovery. Switek aired his views about the discovery on his blog, and was picked up by the media, even here in the UK. The story may not be so familiar to those who haven’t kept track of the media as closely, and it is these readers that will benefit most from the opening chapter.

The next chapter, The Living Rock, tracks the beginnings of palaeontology, from the comparison of living shark teeth with the glossopetrae, or petrified snake tongues, which were found centuries ago, through to the work of Baron Georges Cuvier, who pictured an antediluvian world before the Great Flood of the Bible based on archaeological and palaeontological evidence. The roles of Lyell, Buckland, and Lamarck, huge names in nineteenth century natural history, are summarised, before the primary subject of the next chapter is alluded to. Moving Mountains is the alliterative title given to the chapter about Charles Darwin and Alfred Russel Wallace. Many books have been written about Darwin, but this chapter condenses the main points pertinent to the history of geology as well as the best of them.

The next seven chapters each follow the historical and evolutionary stories of a different group of organisms. To take the first tetrapods, the subject of the chapter entitled From Fins to Fingers, as an example, the story of the first fossils to belong to such transitional organisms is told in parallel with that of the actual evolutionary chronology of the group as we currently know it. The discovery of the lungfish by both Natterer and Owen, and the consequent discovery of such early amphibians as Archegosaurus are interwoven with the relationship between Acanthostega, Ichthyostega, and Tiktaalik, amongst others.

This is taken even further in the following chapter, Footprints and Feathers on the Sands of Time, which tells the story of bird evolution from theropod dinosaur ancestors. The first fossil evidence to be found, albeit not consistently interpreted as such, was footprints, followed by the famous Archaeopteryx specimen. Because these are anachronistic with respect to the chronological order in which birds first came about, the two stories interfold beautifully so the reader can fully understand the basic facts about bird evolution.

Highlights of the subsequent chapters include the inner ear anatomy of therapsids and mammals in The Meek Inherit the Earth, the discovery of ancestral whales in As Monstrous as a Whale, the variety of extinct elephants, mastodons, mammoths, and their kin in Behemoth, and the convergent evolution of a single toe in both horses and litopterns in On a Last Leg. The chapter in which I learnt the most has to be that of the evolution of hominins – that is humans and our close extinct relatives – Through the Looking Glass, in which the well-known “ape-men” such as Lucy the Australopithecus and the Hobbit man of Flores are put in context with other members of the tribe which has culminated with Homo sapiens. I learnt, for example, that we are inseparable from apes because our chromosomes differ only in lacking a pair which has in fact become fused with another pair. The importance of the bipedal stance and unimportance of truncated faces is made clear once and for all.

Switek ends the book on a philosophical note with Time and Chance, the final chapter, which brings ideas from the previous chapters together and recapitulates them to some extent. He also contemplates what would have happened if, because evolution is entirely down to chance, the occurrences that caused therapsids to develop into mammals, and for dinosaurs to develop into birds, didn’t happen. Using the example of bacterial cultures to put evolutionary theory into practice, the reader is left in awe of the mechanics of evolution, and is dumbstruck by how on Earth we managed to not yet become victims of time and chance.

The book is illustrated throughout with portraits of the scientists who feature in it, engravings and illustrations of specimens old and new, and simplified cladograms which demonstrate evolutionary relationships in many groups.

Verdict: 10/10

Available to buy on Amazon.com in U.S.A. only, but is due to be released in the UK next summer.

Stay tuned for an exclusive interview with the author, coming soon.

Monday, 28 September 2009

I'm back...

...back from SVP that is. The meeting in Bristol was for the 69th meeting of the Society of Vertebrate Palaeontology. I met some fantastic people and had an odontocete of a time (that's a toothed whale).

The day after I arrived in Bristol I went to the Zoo which was walking distance from my guest house in Clifton, at the very top of the hill. The zoo features such bizarre and unusual creatures as keas (Nestor notabilis), Inca terns (Larosterna inca), aye-ayes (Daubentonia madagascariensis), American paddlefish (Polyodon spathula), Bornean white-bearded gibbons (Hylobates agilis albibarbis), three species of lion tamarin (Leontopithecus rosalia, L. chrysopygus, L. chrysomelas), pink pigeons (Nesoenas mayeri) and mongoose lemurs (Eulemur mongoz). Photos are being edited and will probably appear on here at some point, and definitely on Facebook...

I also went to the City Museum in the afternoon, seeing various galleries of British wildlife, world wildlife, dinosaurs, extinct marine reptiles, minerals and local geology. Amongst the highlights were a Plateosaurus engelhardti skeleton, amazing material of Scelidosaurus harrisonii and Thecodontosaurus antiquus, a full skeleton of a male Irish elk (Megaloceros giganteus) and lots of nice ichthyosaurs, plesiosaurs and a pliosaur.

The meeting started on the Wednesday and went on until Saturday. Lectures included themed symposia on marine reptiles, synapsids, the evolution of birds and other topics, and there were three sets of talks running simultaneously. I wish I could have split myself into three: as a result of not being able to do that, I missed quite a lot of talks. I'm not allowed to say a lot about the subject matter, but there were lots of new species described, a fair few new genera, and even some controversial new theories on dinosaur taxonomy. Posters (for more on which see Zach Miller's post...) were held in another building, with the temperature of an oven.

I met lots of cool people, and I could name a few, but I won't. You know who you are, if you're reading this and were at the conference. I went there with an open mind, and left with an even more open one. I gleaned lots of advice from people, and to all of those I am eternally grateful.

On Sunday, after stopping briefly at the Avon Gorge to see some peregrine falcons (Falco peregrinus) and ravens (Corvus corax), I left Bristol to visit Slimbridge Wetland Centre. I was instantly shocked by the stark difference in size and layout to the sister site in London, but of course Slimbridge was there first. The variety of anseriform, phoenicopteriform and gruid birds is outstanding and can hardly be summarised in a blog post, but I'll try.

All six species of flamingo, that's the greater (Phoenicopterus roseus), Caribbean (P. ruber), Chilean (P. chilensis), lesser (Phoeniconaias minor), puna (Phoenicoparrus jamesi) and Andean (P. andinus) flamingos, are present; cranes of the Eurasian (Grus grus), demoiselle (Anthropoides virgo) and grey crowned (Balearica regulorum) varieties too. I was not expecting to see a beautiful pair of southern screamers (Chauna torquata), a distant relative of ducks, geese and swans.

Of the rest of the Anseriformes, most of the genera and species are represented, with such oddities as the freckled duck (Stictonetta naevosa) and Cape Barren goose (Cereopsis novaehollandiae) of Australia, all of the extant shelducks (Tadorna tadorna, T. tadornoides, T. cana, T. ferruginea, T. radjah and T. variegata), blue-winged geese (Cyanochen cyanopterus) and white-backed ducks (Thalassornis leuconotus). And loads more besides.

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Have you checked out the new service offered by the BBC? Known as 'Wildlife Finder', it is an archive of video and audio footage from the BBC Natural History Unit which is being made available to all on the Internet. Already there are almost 400 species represented, and it is growing. You can find animals based on species, distribution, habitat or behaviour. It should be available worldwide, unlike the annoying BBC iPlayer which has programmes only for a limited time, and is limited to the UK. I'd love to know what people think of it... if you can access it of course.

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The British Wildlife: L will be a bit late, but it is coming. It's been a hell of a week and have recently received some bad news which I am still dealing with.

Tuesday, 4 August 2009

Sea Dragons of Avalon

Better late than never, here's my quick synopsis of the goings-on in Somerset and Dorset last week.

On Thursday night in the village of Street, there was a stimulating public lecture on ichthyosaurs by Professor Ryosuke Motani of University of California, Davis. Friday was a day full of talks on, amongst other things, geology, stratigraphy, taphonomy, extinction and palaeobiology of fishes, invertebrates, ichthyosaurs, plesiosaurs and other tetrapods. Amongst the speakers were Dave Martill of Portsmouth, Mike Benton of Bristol and Peter Forey (formerly) of the Natural History Museum. The day of talks was followed by a visit to the private collections of Alfred Gillett, consisting of more than a dozen ichthyosaurs and a specimen of Thalassiodracon hawkinsi, a plesiosaur from Street.

The original plan to go to a couple of quarries in Somerset was changed as health and safety deemed it unsafe to visit following the torrential rains of the previous week. Instead we were brought to Charmouth, and then Lyme Regis, on the Jurassic coast of Dorset. I'd never been, and had wanted to go for years, so I was happy, even though it meant no actual fossils were to be found.



Me with a (rather fat) model of a Scelidosaurus at Charmouth Heritage Centre

The trip started with a visit to the Charmouth Heritage Centre, where a few nice specimens were on show, such as the following cast of a Scelidosaurus harrisoni.



After a visit to a workshop, where newly exposed and recovered fossils were being prepared, we were on our way to Lyme Regis. After a quick (and delicious) lunch, we explored the Lyme Regis Museum, also called the Philpot Museum, which lies on the site of Mary Anning's birthplace.



Mary Anning, of course, being the first professional fossil collector, and an all-round admirable historical character. I especially liked this touch, a cardboard cutout of the lady herself, declaring the museum to be 'open'.



And this one of the floor outside the museum. Not real ammonites, of course, but quite stunning to see.



Inside the museum was an impressive specimen of Temnodontosaurus platyodon, a very large ichthyosaur, which is almost complete save for most of the skull. I don't have a good photo of it, but see here for Darren Naish's photo... you can see the back of my head underneath it as I try to photograph various Jurassic ammonites. As well as large ichthyosaurs, there were some smaller specimens:



Excalibosaurus costini McGowan, 1986
Leptopterygiidae; Ichthyosauria; Sauropsida; Chordata

Here's the cast of the holotype of Excalibosaurus, the name coming from the extraordinarily sword-like rostrum. Might've been a Mesozoic analogue of swordfish (Xiphias) and their kin.

Other non-marine tetrapod remains were at the museum, including this anterior portion of the upper jaw of a Dimorphodon, a pterosaur.



Dimorphodon macronyx (Buckland, 1829)
Dimorphodontidae; Pterosauria; Sauropsida; Chordata

One of the more unusual specimens at the museum was a table made of coprolites. That's fossilised dung to those who don't know.



There are ammonites a-plenty in Lyme... even on the lamp-posts.



And now for something completely different... well, in a little while.

Sunday, 31 May 2009

100th post special: Darwinius masillae, or Ida

“Ida”
Darwinius masillae Franzen et al., 2009
Notharctidae; Primates; Mammalia; Chordata


Above photograph:
Cast of the original specimen in Natural History Museum
May 2009


Above illustration:
Pen drawing of the cast
May 2009

As my humble contribution to the Ida carnival, I thought I’d offer two original illustrations and a documentary review, and also a summary about Ida, her provenance, her significance and some other thoughts. You may have heard much of this before, so I apologise in advance.

Ida is the name given to the first, and so far only, specimen of the notharctid primate Darwinius masillae. Obviously, her generic name comes from the man who celebrated his 200th birthday posthumously earlier this year, Mr. Charles Robert Darwin. It is no surprise, then, that the species was formally described this year of all years. The ‘masillae’ epithet is more obscure and less obvious. This relates to its origins: it was found some 25 years ago by an anonymous collector in the Messel pits in Germany. The name is Latinised, but instead of ending in the more usual ‘-ensis’, which normally ends names named after locations (i.e. canadensis, mississippiensis, sinensis), it ends in the genitive ending usually reserved for female people, although is sometimes used for place names (i.e. novaehollandiae, novaeangliae, terraesanctae).

The Messel pits are renowned for their status as a Lagerstätte. Roughly translated as ‘place of storage’, Lagerstätten are known for yielding truly well-preserved fossils. As well as Messel, there is Solnhofen, also in Germany, with perfectly preserved Pterodactylus, Rhamphorhynchus, Compsognathus and Archaeopteryx specimens (Solnhofen scene depicted here). The Burgess Shale of British Columbia, Canada, is another example of a Lagerstätte from much earlier (Cambrian period), and the La Brea tar pits in Los Angeles, California, much more recent (Pleistocene epoch). All share in common a veritable bonanza of fossils not found anywhere else, or in such quantities or of such quality. Messel itself contains beautifully preserved examples of, for example, insects, fish, amphibians, snakes, birds, bats, primitive horses, and of course, primates. The reason for such a high diversity of life forms is the basis behind why Lagerstätten exist. In Messel, a crater formed by geophysical forces from the mantle, deep under the crust. The crater filled with water and became a deep lake mostly devoid of life. This is because the bottom of the lake was still exposed to the same geophysical forces that created the crater in the first place, but this time in the form of gases such as carbon dioxide. From time to time, big ‘burps’ of gas would escape from the vents at the lake bottom, and to some extent the lake margins, releasing large amounts of gases into the lake environment. This is key to explaining how Ida might have died.

Ida (pronounced ‘ee-da’, not ‘eye-da’, as I was saying it for a while!) was female and approximately 9 months old when she died. The evidence for both of these factors comes from the skeleton itself, which is 95% complete: a lack of a baculum (penis bone, or os penis) indicates it is not male; hidden teeth high up in the jaw which have yet to emerge indicate she is not fully grown. The preserved skeleton also reveals a pathology which most likely contributed to her death. The right metacarpals (wrist bones) are fused and form a risen lump. This indicates that the bones broke early in Ida’s life, possibly from a fall from a tree. Although Ida survived long enough for the bones to heal, she would have had a hard life to her conspecifics; her tree-climbing abilities would have been greatly impaired and probably couldn’t have found food in the usual way. This resorted Ida to foraging for fallen fruit, foliage and the occasional invertebrate on the ground. She would have been drawn to the lake for a drink, and may have fallen prey to the toxic gases burping out of the muddy margins. Ida was knocked out by the sudden intake of carbon dioxide, and fell in the lake, indisputably drowning. Her lifeless body found itself in its famous pose as it hit the bed.

I mentioned earlier that Ida is a notharctid primate, but what does that mean exactly? The notharctids are a family of extinct primates, placed in the infraorder Adapiformes. It has remained unclear as to where exactly within the Primates the Adapiformes and hence the Notharctidae belong. Much of the focus of the original description (referenced and linked at the end of this post) and the documentary reviewed shortly was on the phylogenetic placement of Darwinius related to two suborders of Primates: the prosimians (lemurs, lorises and their kin), and the anthropoids (monkeys and apes, including humans, which are apes of course). Neither are true monophyletic groups: the prosimians also include the tarsiers, which are actually on the same ‘branch’ as humans, the haplorhines. The original paper uses the more correct terms Strepsirhini and Haplorhini to indicate the true groupings. It occurs to me that the Adapiformes make up a third group.

On Tuesday 26th May, Britain was hit by a double dose of Ida-goodness. I already knew that the documentary Uncovering Our Earliest Ancestors: The Link was scheduled for 9 pm on BBC1, but the other piece of news was bizarrely unknown to me. The Natural History Museum, the place where I work and have studied and worked for the past few years, was to host the REAL Ida specimen for just a few hours, of course, as luck would not have it, on a day I had chosen to take off for my sister’s birthday, dammit. I probably wouldn’t have had authority to see her anyway, as the event was restricted to the press, certain scientists and celebrities, including the revered Sir David Attenborough, who narrated and wrote the script for that night’s documentary. I’m a humble library shelving assistant, and have few, if any, links to the Palaeontology Department, as yet. I saw this on the lunchtime news, and was feeling an odd mixture of pride for my institution, and jealousy for not being there. Oh I’ve met Sir Dave already, twice in fact, so it’s not that. The news was announced, however, that a cast has been presented to the Museum that will be on display from the following day. So naturally, before I started my shift at work I gave Ida’s body double a visit. Oh my, I was blown away by her beauty, although it was a cast. From seeing her on TV the previous night, I expected her to be twice the size, but as with a lot of celebrities, she looked a lot smaller in person.

So onto my review. An overdramatic introduction (this truly was overdramatic... Jens Franzen was quoted as stating that the findings would be “just like an asteroid hitting the Earth”) led into the story of the fossil’s discovery by Jørn Hurum at a German fossil fair in 2006. The counterpart was not mentioned (the other half of the specimen which shows the imprints of the bones, rather than risen ones). An excited Hurum was shown seeing the fossil for the first time when he was filmed opening the crate containing Ida. Radiographic studies, including x-rays (which can be seen in the original paper), proved that the specimen, unlike Piltdown Man, is not a hoax. A quick overview of the skeletal features follows, focusing on the presence of nails on the digits. Three of the authors of the paper, Holly Smith, Jens Franzen and Philip Gingerich were introduced.

Deciphering the fossil’s age was due to the method of preservation. Before being found by Hurum and purchased by the Oslo Natural History Museum, somebody (conveniently anonymously) covered the front face of the fossil with a clear resin. This is, apparently, only done to fossils found at Messel; therefore Ida’s age could be pinpointed to approximately 47 million years old. Other Messel fossils were shown, including Propalaeotherium and Eurotamandua. These fossils date from the Eocene epoch, the second of the Cenozoic epochs, after the relatively ‘dead’ Palaeocene. This was the time when the first true carnivores (the miacids), horses, bats (like Palaeochiropteryx), whales (like Basilosaurus, but obviously not in Messel) and primates were evolving. No mention is made of why the lake was special in that the specimens were so perfectly preserved, of course due to the anoxic mud containing very little oxygen and thus few aerobic bacteria to break down the body. The black fuzz surrounding Ida’s body was not mentioned apart from stating that it is furry; it is not only fur, but also a bacterial slime, which I mentioned to interested passers by at the Museum.

The skeleton was scrutinised further by the quartet: ecological conclusions were being drawn, such as the relatively short limbs indicated an arboreal (tree-climbing) nature, as well as the fact that Darwinius would have been heavily muscular (try imagining a ripped Ida with huge pecs and abs – quite a laugh). The teeth were examined by Holly Smith, the dental anthropologist on the team. Externally they appear to be ‘all-purpose’, suggesting she would eat a variety of foods, but especially vegetation. This was confirmed by examination of the gut contents by Hurum and Franzen, having found leaves and seeds. A detailed CT scan was carried out in the Senckenberg Museum where Franzen is based, from which they were able to create a 3-D image of Ida’s skeleton. On this note, it is incredible that not a single whole animal reconstruction was shown. It took me half an hour to draw one (see end of this post), and I would’ve done it for free, so it can’t be to do with budget. A CGI reconstruction of more than just bones would’ve been greatly appreciated, if not just by me then by all viewers of the documentary who haven’t seen Darwinius reconstructed. This isn’t Night at the Museum, for crying out loud!

Comparisons were made between Ida and a 6 to 9 year old child (incidentally, this confused a few people I met at the Museum when I was answering casual questions – they had read that Ida was 9 months old, but had heard on the documentary that she was 6 years old, in comparative terms), and we see Ida’s namesake, Hurum’s daughter. There is a neat cut-scene where we see the human Ida playing and the notharctid Ida is superimposed over her, as they are in similar positions.

From this point onwards, the documentary dwells heavily on the phylogenetic placement of Ida in comparison to the prosimians and the anthropoids. My favourite part of the documentary follows: an examination of a slow loris (Nycticebus sp.) to show two of the salient features of most prosimians. Most primates have nails instead of claws (some notable exceptions include the needle-clawed galagos [Euoticus spp.] and the aye-aye [Daubentonia madagascariensis]), but a claw is present on the second digit of the hind foot (the toe next to the big toe). This is variously known as the grooming claw or the toilet claw (I prefer the latter term). It is used, fairly obviously, for grooming. The slow loris has a nice example of a toilet claw. The other feature which prosimians like lorises have is the tooth comb. This is made of the lower incisors and canines squished close together to form a comb-like structure, also used in grooming. The loris’ features are then contrasted with Ida’s, who lacks both the toilet claw and the tooth comb.

This immediately suggests that Ida is NOT a prosimian/strepsirhine. According to the documentary, this automatically places Ida on the anthropoid branch. Just because something does not belong in one category, it does not necessarily mean it has to belong in the other. This way of thinking has been criticised heavily by my fellow bloggers and other scientists, so I won’t add too much to that. Comparisons were then inevitably made to anthropoids, but why start and end with the chimpanzee? Obviously their hands and feet look similar, but doesn’t it make sense to look at an anthropoid with a longer fossil record? Clearly, they were trying to oversell the point that Ida is closer to apes than to lemurs.

In reference to Charles Darwin and his theory of evolution by natural selection, Attenborough can be heard saying that there are “billions of species” on the planet. Barely a million have been described, there’s a long way to a billion, let alone ‘billions’. The dependence on the term ‘missing link’ is clear, so of course the most famous link, Lucy, the Australopithecus afarensis specimen discovered in 1974, was featured. It was a nice opportunity, however, to see how Lucy’s reconstructed pelvis compares with bipedal primates, i.e. humans, and quadrupeds, like the chimpanzee.

The injury to the metacarpals was featured, and it was proposed that Ida’s mother may have dropped her. Ida’s death was mentioned in as much detail as I have already gone into. While watching though, I was reminded of how Archaeopteryx lithographica, of which a handful of specimens (such a strange term, how can you have a handful of giant slabs of limestone?) are known, had probably died of the same fate a hundred million years before. This then provoked another thought: other specimens of Darwinius may exist out there, but are lying in “some rich guy’s basement”, to use Hurum’s words. With any luck, Ida’s worldwide media exposure (family in a village in Cyprus have even heard) might motivate private collectors to sell their specimens to museums, obviously for a hugely elevated price which no museum can afford on today’s budgets.

The final nail in the coffin for me in this documentary was the end to the constant search for a trait to link Ida with the anthropoids, and by extension, to us. The authors noticed that the talus bone in the animal’s heel is of a similar shape to those of humans, who walk bipedally. Did it not occur to them that this could be a form of convergent evolution? Just like the opposable thumb and big toe which likens them to chimpanzees, the talus’ shape could have nothing to do with walking upright, or shared ancestry with us. Of course, it may still be true, but not enough analysis has been carried out. In the last minute of the documentary, Ida is declared as “part of our history” and that’s that. End of story. Had this documentary been made much later, as in not yet, the views of other scientists would have made an appearance and made it a much less biased argument. The documentary was, however, drawing upon the points made in the paper itself, which is also full of holes.

You can tell by the length of my review that this was a long documentary, but there was much repetition of ideas. Friends and colleagues with whom I have discussed the programme with have agreed that it could have easily been half as long with still as much detail. Despite this, the documentary is still worth watching, if only for the incredible footage of a sedated slow loris (even slower than usual!) being examined at Duke Lemur Center in Durham, North Carolina.

I leave you with my reconstruction of Ida. I based her on living lemurs and of course on the cast of the skeleton I have illustrated earlier.


Graphite pencil illustration
May 2009

Reference:
Franzen, J. L., P. D. Gingerich, J. Habersetzer, J. H. Hurum; W. von Koenigswald & B. H. Smith (2009). Complete Primate Skeleton from the Middle Eocene of Messel in Germany: Morphology and Paleobiology. In: PLoS One 4(5), 27 pp. (link to PDF here)

Thursday, 12 March 2009

By way of apology...

I know it has been a little while since my last update, things have been a bit topsy-turvy. To make up for it, I will post 3 photos and 3 illustrations today, as well as more details on the Ceratopsian skulls I have submitted to Art Evolved.


Mudskipper
Periopthalmus sp.
Gobiidae; Perciformes; Actinopterygii; Chordata
Wildwoods, Crews Hill, North London
February 2009

I seriously want to keep these babies, I’m quite surprised they can be kept by the amateur aquarist due to their need for precisely brackish water, mangrove-like conditions, and a combination of land and water. Mudskippers, along with lungfish, are the most well-known fishes that are able to spend some time out of water. They need to do this because of the conditions of the mangrove swamps that they dwell in. Since the swamps are coastal, they are affected by the tides. As the water level falls, the swamp is left relatively dry (the mud stays moist, however), leaving any aquatic obligates extremely pressured to either move out to sea, dig in the substrate, or find another way. The mudskippers, of course, chose the latter. This, along with the “blinking” of their eyeballs which makes them appear toad-like, makes these fish very endearing animals. Puts one in mind of a certain scientifically inaccurate advert for a certain alcoholic beverage.


Common collared lizard
Crotaphytus collaris (Say, 1823)
Crotaphytidae; Squamata; Sauropsida; Chordata
Crews Hill
February 2009

So called because of the male’s tell-tale double black collar filled with white, the collared lizard is a desert-dwelling reptile from North America. There are five recognised subspecies of Crotaphytus collaris and six other species in the genus, according to Wikipedia. In full breeding regalia, like other lizards, the male glows green, yellow and orange as well as the usual shades of tan, grey and ochre.


Common teal
Anas crecca Linnaeus, 1758
Anatidae; Anseriformes; Aves; Chordata
London Wetland Centre
December 2008

This individual, a male in his “nuptial” plumage, was photographed in the London Wetland Centre in a pond usually frequented by nothing more spectacular than coots, mallards, and the occasional grey heron, but I was drawn to this beautiful teal preening himself. I’ve sung the praises of the Wetland Centre before, as I have been frequenting it several times a year since 2005 when I went there to interview a warden about the dangers of feeding bread to wildfowl for an undergraduate assignment. I have since seen around a good chunk of the world’s species of wildfowl, especially the more endangered ones such as the white-winged wood duck (Cairina scutulata), Laysan teal (Anas laysanensis) and New Zealand blue duck (Hymenolaimus malacorhynchus)*. The place could now hold even more promise for me, in terms of temporary employment. I have applied for a post there as a teacher to children of primary school age. I have the knowledge and, arguably, the personality to carry out this job, but not enough experience in a teaching environment. Here’s hoping I get invited for an interview at least!

* The blue duck has been in the news recently: there is only one female currently left in captivity in the UK at the sister site to the London centre, Arundel, in West Sussex. They also have two males; unfortunately, neither male has any interest in the female, and are attracted to each other. Who said homosexuality is unnatural, even the birds are doing it! Other examples of gay birds have included these gentoo penguins and these flamingos.

Entelodon magnus Aymard, 1846
Entelodontidae; Cetartiodactyla; Mammalia; Chordata
From Oligocene Europe
Pencil illustration by Mo Hassan
February 2009

This beastly-looking ungulate must truly have been a terror. Like its relative, Daeodon (formerly Dinohyus), these would have looked like giant warthogs in the flesh, ‘giant’ being the key word here; the body of Entelodon magnus was in excess of 3 m in length. The fearsome canine teeth may have been used for eating meat from carcasses.


Gomphotherium angustidens Burmeister, 1837
Gomphotheriidae; Proboscidea; Mammalia; Chordata
From Miocene Europe
Pencil illustration by Mo Hassan
February 2009

Not quite an elephant, but a distant relative, the gomphotheriids were actually more closely related to the mastodons. One clear difference is the elongation of the lower incisors into tusks, not just the upper ones. They didn’t reach the size of today’s African elephants, but must have been just as awe-inspiring to behold, if not more so. In their time (from the Miocene to the Pliocene), gomphotheriids ranged across North America and Eurasia and into Africa. Gomphotherium angustidens was exclusive to Europe, however.


Tylosaurus proriger (Cope, 1869)
Mosasauridae; Squamata; Sauropsida; Chordata
from Cretaceous North America
Pencil illustration by Mo Hassan
December 2008

Mosasaurs were a group of marine lizards that existed for about 20 million years in the Late Cretaceous period at the end of the Mesozoic era. One of the largest of these was Tylosaurus proriger; indeed, it was so large it preyed upon large plesiosaurs, as is evident from certain fossils. Reaching over 15 m in length (that’s over 50 feet, non-metric folks!), it dwarfed every other living thing in the sea at that time. I drew it in hunting mode, surrounded by ammonites and a scared belemnite, themselves rather large molluscs by today’s standards.

Thanks to those of you who have seen my centrosaurine skulls and phylogeny at Art Evolved and have commented, that means a lot to me. I was overwhelmed at the greatness of everybody’s work, and can’t wait for May’s synapsids!


Here I give you a bit of background and added scientific information on my artwork. The nine skulls pictured in the above artwork are:

column 1, top to bottom

Avaceratops lammersi Dodson, 1986
Centrosaurus apertus Lambe, 1904
Styracosaurus albertensis Lambe, 1913

column 2, top to bottom

Einiosaurus procurvicornis Sampson, 1995
Achelousaurus horneri Sampson, 1995
Pachyrhinosaurus canadensis Sternberg, 1950

column 3, top to bottom

Albertaceratops nesmoi Ryan, 2007
Brachyceratops montanensis Gilmore, 1914
Monoclonius nasicornis Brown, 1917

These are the nine currently recognised genera of centrosaurines, one major group of the Ceratopsidae. The family itself of course includes other well known beasts such as Chasmosaurus (like Sara Chasm) and Triceratops, and other less-well known ones like Nedoceratops (the dinosaur formerly known as Diceratus, formerly known as Diceratops, formerly known as Prince).


The relationships, as currently thought by palaeontologists, between the centrosaurines, are shown above. This suggests that Pachyrhinosaurus, Achelousaurus and Einiosaurus form a tightly-knit group within the centrosaurines, whilst Avaceratops barely belongs in the group, and Albertaceratops is of uncertain affinity to the others.

Saturday, 13 December 2008

Caption competition



As featured on Tetrapod Zoology, here is that odd picture I took on the Isle of Wight in May. Although what was actually happening was Dave Martill demonstrating the size of the iguanodontids that made the footprints whose reverse impressions litter this part of the coast, how about a caption competition? Prize for the best caption is an A3 drawing of the tetrapod of your choice.

Tuesday, 25 November 2008

My Favourite Museum

My favourite museum is undoubtedly the Natural History Museum, London. Of course I love almost every museum I have been to (the exception being Guzelyurt Museum of Nature and Archaeology; more on that in a future post!), but the NHM stands out for me, as it has been the most prominent institution in my life so far.

It all started for me almost twenty years ago when I was a wee lad of five or six and went to the Museum on a school trip. I don’t remember much of that excursion; however, one event sticks in my mind. A life-size animatronic roaring Tyrannosaurus rex (probably a relative of Traumador’s) shouted at me, and I ran and hid behind the teacher. This picture of me at the Museum with various felids on a subsequent visit is a vision of things to come!






I would visit the Museum every few years or so throughout my childhood and even through my teens. I started to use the General/Zoology library for casual carnivore research when I was about 15 years old, and kept returning until the present.

My affiliation with the Museum became stronger when I started the Masters course there last year. I was given the run of the place, and soon became a volunteer in the Palaeontology department, sorting fossil fish. I am now working in the greatest library in the world as a shelving assistant.

My past has always been associated with the NHM, and I hope my future will be too. The Museum has imparted chunks of wisdom to me and I endeavour to pass on this knowledge to others in years to come.

I hope you enjoyed this post; I was inspired to write it for the Boneyard XXVI, hosted by Traumador the Tyrannosaur at The Tyrannosaur Chronicles this month. If you didn’t arrive here via that blog, go read about the tales of a lovelorn living fossil!

Saturday, 8 November 2008

Vote now!

There are a lot of science bloggers about these days, and most of them are already “established” scientists, either fully qualified and working on their chosen studies and blogging by the side, or advanced research students in their doctorate or post-doctoral studies. However, undergrad students blog too, and the best science blog out there in that category is undoubtedly Laelaps. The writer, Brian Switek, has been nominated for a Blogging Scholarship prize, and needs help with votes. If you haven’t already been brought here by that blog, then click here to vote and help Brian get a scholarship worth US$10,000! 

Monday, 1 September 2008

Art #10: Acadoparadoxides


"Acadoparadoxides"

Coloured pencil illustration, August 2008

Acadoparadoxides Snajdr 1957

 

A drawing of what the wonderful Acadoparadoxides trilobite would have looked like in life, in colours I think are neat. Acadoparadoxides dates from an awe-inspiring 530 million years ago, and was found in Morocco (not by me, I purchased the above specimen from eBay). Of course, Morocco was then underwater, and must have remained so until at least the Devonian period millions of years later, as trilobites from that period have also been found there. 

Tuesday, 19 August 2008

Gazellospira torticornis



Gazellospira torticornis (Aymard, 1854)
Bovidae; Cetartiodactyla; Mammalia; Chordata
Artwork by Mo Hassan, August 2008
Photograph from Natural History Museum, March 2008

Gazellospira torticornis was a blackbuck-like antelope from Pleistocene Europe, a bit less than 2 million years ago.  The photograph shows two premolars and three molars still in the upper jaw, of a specimen of G. torticornis from Spain. 

Tuesday, 15 July 2008

Photo of the Day #14: Walliserops trifurcates

Walliserops trifurcates Morzadec, 2001
Acastidae; Phacopida; Trilobita; Arthropoda
Oxford Museum of Natural History
July 2008

Trilobites were amazing things, and if you believe the storyline in Journey to the Center of the Earth (2008), then they still are amazing things. But for the rest of us, trilobites became extinct way before the first dinosaurs even appeared. The W. trifurcates depicted is just one of c.17,000 known species, itself dating from the Devonian Period (about 420-360 million years ago), and was found in Morocco, where many unusual forms seem to have existed in shallow seas. Even Richard Fortey himself, a veteran trilobite expert based at the Natural History Museum, London, was surprised and amazed at such a bizarre looking animal. Just look at that projection! What the hell could that have been for?

Trilobites possessed very advanced eyes for arthropods (jointed-legged invertebrates), which you can see on Walliserops; the level of detail preserved in such fossils is just incredible.

Wednesday, 21 May 2008

Photo of the Day #3: Neovenator salerii




Neovenator salerii skull (reconstructed holotype)
Neovenator salerii Hutt, Martill & Barker, 1996
?Carcharodontosauridae; Allosauroidea; Theropoda; Saurischia; Sauropsida; Chordata
Dinosaur Isle Museum, Isle of Wight
May 2008

Friday, 16 May 2008

Meeting with a Spinosaurus

Meeting with a Spinosaurus
by Mo Hassan
May 2008

Last Monday, I left work a little later than usual. Two dinosaur eggs were excavated in Egypt a little more than a month ago, and they were brought to the museum. Along with a few other palaeontologists, I was trying to identify which species they belong to. Unfortunately, there were no diagnostic features, and lots of potential suspects. I had the idea of sampling the shell for radioisotopes but I had no luck. I hadn’t eaten all day from the excitement and I couldn’t resist the hunger pains any more. What happened next could either be the stupidest or the most serendipitous thing I have ever done.

I guess I just forgot to put one of the eggs back in the drawer as I was distracted by the thought of dinner. The egg was still in the radioisotope lab which contains, amongst other contraptions, a gamma-ray emitter. Tuesday morning I was first in – I was eager to test some new hypotheses I came up with overnight, could it be a Carcharodontosaurus or even an Ouranosaurus? I then realised that I had left half of our precious clutch in the radioisotope lab; the door was locked and I didn’t have the key. I bit my fingernails to the quick while I waited for a nuclear technician to let me in. A whole hour passed before I saw one approaching the lab. I asked why I couldn’t get in,
  “You’re not authorised entry,” he replied.
  “I got in yesterday, it was unlocked!”
  “It was unlocked? I locked it last night, I’m sure of it, well, I think I did.”  
  “It looks like you and me are both in a bit of trouble, aren’t we.” The door didn’t open.
  “That red light means the gamma-ray emitter is on – there’s a dangerous amount of radiation in there!”
  “Oh no, the egg!” I exclaimed in a high-pitched squeal.
  “Well that egg will be scrambled by the time the emitter stops working, it must have been going all night.” The light went out after five minutes of silence, and the door lock clicked open (I would say steam came pouring out of the doorway, but that sounds too sci-fi).

I entered to see the egg exactly where I left it, between the gamma-ray emitter and the mass spectrometer. It looked untouched, except for the square millimetre I cut out of the shell to examine it under the electron microscope. That square millimetre looked a bit bigger than it did yesterday, I thought to myself. Oh no, it’s hatching!

By this point, the technician is screaming and has set the fire alarm off in the corridor. I snatched the egg and ran to the nearest fire exit and ran home. Well, I briskly walked to the bus stop, I can’t run that fast. When I got home, I put the egg on the kitchen table and waited for the moment when the little beastie’s head popped through the eggshell and saw the world for the first time. As it happens, this only took five minutes. As the baby reptile stood up for the first time in its life, I noticed it had a fully-formed sail on its back, and a long snout full of sharp, serrated teeth that showed when it yawned. This was my first meeting with a Spinosaurus.

I watched as it walked, then ran, around the kitchen table, and I noticed how similar it looked to reconstructions of adult spinosaurids I had seen. The radiation must have made the embryo suddenly mature. I cannot think of a better explanation, but after all, science does do the unexpected from time to time. As time passed, and I was frantically taking pictures, video footage and notes all at once, the still very little Spinosaurus was getting slower and more awkward in its movements. Could it be dying? Before the horror of what I was thinking could sink in, the dinosaur crawled inside the empty eggshell and collapsed. The life of a great beast abridged and summarised as if it was an hour of televised programming.

Despite having seen a living non-avian dinosaur and being the only human being to do so, I feel strangely dissatisfied with what I witnessed. There are so many unanswered questions, but I have added more to the list. Oh well, I must get writing the paper on this bizarre moment in geological time, when man meets theropod for the first time ever.




This story was created for Laelaps' blog (Boneyard #20), and was heavily influenced by Jurassic Park and Honey I Blew Up The Kid. Any similarity to any persons or theropods living or dead is purely coincidental, accidental, and just plain mental... this is probably the least accurate scientific text I have ever written. Bear that in mind please when you comment! Thanks for reading.