HENRY the Human Evolution News Relay

6Oct/09Off

Altruism vs. Selfishness: Case Closed

David Sloan Wilson in Seed Magazine

The idea that evolution explains selfishness well and altruism poorly is so dead that it is beginning to smell. Can we please bury it now? Evolution explains the full range of behaviors, from extreme selfishness to extreme altruism. What evolves in any particular case depends upon the underlying environmental conditions, which are fairly well specified by now. No one should be surprised anymore by the raw fact that kindness exists in nature. The frontier of science has moved on to a more refined set of questions.

Filed under: evolution, quotes No Comments
19Jul/08Off

…one of the chief values of print library research is poor indexing

...one of the chief values of print library research is poor indexing. Poor indexing—indexing by titles and authors, primarily within core journals—likely had unintended consequences that assisted the integration of science and scholarship. By drawing researchers through unrelated articles, print browsing and perusal may have facilitated broader comparisons and led researchers into the past. Modern graduate education parallels this shift in publication—shorter in years, more specialized in scope, culminating less frequently in a true dissertation than an album of articles

-- James A. Evans, Electronic Publication and the Narrowing of Science and Scholarship.

12Apr/08Off

Chicken testicles and the role of humor in language change

William Thurston on the role of humor in language change in his 1987 book "Processes of Change in the languages of North-Western New Britain":

Many linguistic innovations arise in the context of humor, a common mechanism for mediating interpersonal relationships. For example, in 1978, during my second trip to work with the Anêm, but Goulden's first, we had passed weeks without eating an egg. One morning, an Anêm woman proudly presented Goulden with one, and carefully enunciated the phrase nilŋêm texik 'chicken-egg' (nil-ŋ2 'egg/testicle', texik 'chicken') for Goulden to repeat. (The Anêm apply Pavlovian principles to language teaching.) At this stage, Goulden's knowledge of Anêm was at the wordlist level. He graciously accepted the gift, but in his fluster to be polite and repeat what he thought he had heard, he uttered biŋêm texik 'chicken vulva' instead. Both bi-ŋ2 and nil-ŋ2 belong to the genital class of nouns.

No sooner had the slip left his tongue than he knew his mistake, but it was too late. Goulden's obvious discomfiture only accentuated the hilarity of the event. Acutely embarrassed, he returned to the house with the egg in hand. In subsequent weeks, Goulden was the recipient of all available eggs in Karaiai and Pudeling villages; each one was presented as biŋêm texik, a lexeme temporarily reassigned a new meaning for the duration of the gag. (pp. 66-67)

11Apr/08Off

If you cared about money you wouldn’t be a scientist at all would you?

"if you cared about money you wouldn't be a scientist at all would you?" -- John Womersley, head of the Science and Technology Facilities Council

Filed under: people, quotes, science No Comments
9Apr/08Off

Quote: Animated cursors and Beowulf clusters

A quote from Rod Page, on "The Past and Future of Systematic Biology":

Beyond my own hobbyhorses, it seems foolish to try and predict the future. Obviously we will have more data, faster computers, clever methods of analysis, and - sadly - fewer taxa left extant to study. My own perceptions of systematics are inevitably colored by events at the time I started to join the field. Rather like stereotypically lumbering dinosaurs unaware of the small mammals scurrying about their feet, arguments about cladistics versus phenetics rumbled on while all about them statistical methods started to blossom. The early work of Joe Felsenstein and others on topics such as maximum likelihood models and simulated annealing has given rise to modern descendants such as fast maximum likelihood methods, and Bayesian approaches, now among the most popular tree building methods.

Yet, the 1980s was also a period of great interest in large-scale patterns in biogeography, diversification, coevolution, palaeontology, morphology, and development. Whereas some of these areas, notably development, have gone from strength to strength, others have not fared as well. Perhaps this is because they are hard, or perhaps they were not posed in tractable ways. But I hope the current generation of systematists will occasionally step back from the animated cursors and Beowolf clusters, and revisit some of the big questions that so engaged the discipline 20 years ago.

13Feb/08Off

Poetry Corner: When you were a tadpole and I was a fish

'cos it's Valentines day - Evolution, by Langdon Smith:

When you were a tadpole and I was a fish
In the Paleozoic time,
And side by side on the ebbing tide
We sprawled through the ooze and slime,
Or skittered with many a caudal flip
Through the depths of the Cambrian fen,
My heart was rife with the joy of life,
For I loved you even then.

Mindless we lived and mindless we loved
And mindless at last we died;
And deep in the rift of the Caradoc drift
We slumbered side by side.
The world turned on in the lathe of time,
The hot lands heaved amain,
Till we caught our breath from the womb of death
And crept into light again.

We were amphibians, scaled and tailed,
And drab as a dead man's hand;
We coiled at ease 'neath the dripping trees
Or trailed through the mud and sand.
Croaking and blind, with our three-clawed feet
Writing a language dumb,
With never a spark in the empty dark
To hint at a life to come.

Yet happy we lived and happy we loved,
And happy we died once more;
Our forms were rolled in the clinging mold
Of a Neocomian shore.
The eons came and the eons fled
And the sleep that wrapped us fast
Was riven away in a newer day
And the night of death was past.

Then light and swift through the jungle trees
We swung in our airy flights,
Or breathed in the balms of the fronded palms
In the hush of the moonless nights;
And, oh! what beautiful years were there
When our hearts clung each to each;
When life was filled and our senses thrilled
In the first faint dawn of speech.

Thus life by life and love by love
We passed through the cycles strange,
And breath by breath and death by death
We followed the chain of change.
Till there came a time in the law of life
When over the nursing side
The shadows broke and soul awoke
In a strange, dim dream of God.

I was thewed like an Auruch bull
And tusked like the great cave bear;
And you, my sweet, from head to feet
Were gowned in your glorious hair.
Deep in the gloom of a fireless cave,
When the night fell o'er the plain
And the moon hung red o'er the river bed
We mumbled the bones of the slain.

I flaked a flint to a cutting edge
And shaped it with brutish craft;
I broke a shank from the woodland lank
And fitted it, head and haft;
Then I hid me close to the reedy tarn,
Where the mammoth came to drink;
Through the brawn and bone I drove the stone
And slew him upon the brink.

Loud I howled through the moonlit wastes,
Loud answered our kith and kin;
From west and east to the crimson feast
The clan came tramping in.
O'er joint and gristle and padded hoof
We fought and clawed and tore,
And check by jowl with many a growl
We talked the marvel o'er.

I carved that fight on a reindeer bone
With rude and hairy hand;
I pictured his fall on the cavern wall
That men might understand.
For we lived by blood and the right of might
Ere human laws were drawn,
And the age of sin did not begin
Till our brutal tush were gone.

And that was a million years ago
In a time that no man knows;
Yet here tonight in the mellow light
We sit at Delmonico's.
Your eyes are deep as the Devon springs,
Your hair is dark as jet,
Your years are few, your life is new,
Your soul untried, and yet -

Our trail is on the Kimmeridge clay
And the scarp of the Purbeck flags;
We have left our bones in the Bagshot stones
And deep in the Coralline crags;
Our love is old, our lives are old,
And death shall come amain;
Should it come today, what man may say
We shall not live again?

God wrought our souls from the Tremadoc beds
And furnished them wings to fly;
We sowed our spawn in the world's dim dawn,
And I know that it shall not die,
Though cities have sprung above the graves
Where the crook-bone men make war
And the oxwain creaks o'er the buried caves
Where the mummied mammoths are.

Then as we linger at luncheon here
O'er many a dainty dish,
Let us drink anew to the time when you
Were a tadpole and I was a fish.

ps: Scientific Valentines day cards.

7Jan/08Off

Nature Archives Online

The journal Nature has digitised their entire publication archive - dating all the way back to November 4th, 1869. Nature has been one of the most influential journals in science (the wikipedia has a good history), so this is a good chance to poke around their archives. Unfortunately, all the good stuff is still behind a pay-to-view firewall, but the history page has some interesting information.

It's fascinating to see the differences in science writing that 140 years can bring. This paper, in the second issue, discusses the "Dulness of Science" (sic), and sounds like a mix between a Dickens novel and an allegory:

But, alas ! the blind in this sense are numbered by myriads ; and as they, for a time, almost threaten to carry their point, a few remarks upon  the dulness of science, or rather, perhaps, the dulness of men, may not be out of place.

We have in out mind's eye at the present moment several notable specimens of blind men. One of these lives not very far from where we write - a most hopeless individual; we had better not inquire too narrowly concerning his occupation; he will be found somewhere in the purlieus of this great city. His one sense is the sense of gain. We remember once seeing through a microscope the animalcules of a drop of water, and we noticed that one of the largest of these had one end fixed to the side of the vessel, while its arms and mouth were busy gathering up and swallowing its smaller neighbours. Now, the man of whom we speak is only this animalcule magnified without the microscope. Ignorant of all laws, civil, religious, physical, moral, social, sanatory, he rots in his place until Dame Nature, in one of her clearing-out days, fetches at him with her besom the plague; and he is swept aside and seen no more.

"F.R.S.", Page 43, Nature,  vol 1, iss.2, 1869

Ruth Barton also cherry-picks a few gems (doi):

The most bitter exchange was between the physicists P. G. Tait, a regular controversialist from Edinburgh, and John Tyndall of London, whom Tait accused of scientific error in his Lectures on Light. Tyndall had won distinction as a popularizer but, according to Tait, at the cost of "martyring" his scientific authority. Tyndall retaliated, accusing Tait of lacking "manhood" (11 and 18 September 1873). The following year, Tait accused the renowned evolutionary philosopher Herbert Spencer of being confused about newtonian mechanics (26 March 1874). The ensuing debate ran in Nature for five months, with contributors from three continents.

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