
Way back in 2007, when I was still a neophyte science blogger, Rutgers University philosophy professor Jerry Fodor published an op-ed in the London Review of Books called "Why Pigs Don't Have Wings." It was a critique of a straw man version of evolutionary theory characterized by a brand of adaptationism so narrow that (if it were at all true) biologists could be charged with just making things up as they went along. But Fodor was not so much concerned with science as the extension of evolutionary ideas outside of biology. Motivated by his irritation with evolutionary psychology, a…
A Madagascar giant day gecko (Phelsuma madagascariensis grandis), photographed at the National Zoo.
A restoration of the giant, durophagous shark Ptychodus, courtesy paleo-artist Matt Celeskey.
The study of prehistoric sharks is no easy task. Specialists in other branches of vertebrate paleontology at least have the reasonable hope of discovering complete skeletons of their subjects; except in instances of exceptional preservation the scientists who study sharks typically only have teeth and a few vertebrae to work with. Still, you can tell a lot about a shark by its teeth, and a new study published in Cretaceous Research suggests that one peculiar form was a shell-crushing giant.…
A Coquerel's sifaka (Propithecus coquereli), photographed at the Bronx Zoo.
A gull stands at the edge of the surf while sanderlings scuttle about in the background. Photographed at Spring Lake, New Jersey.
I love monster movies. When they're good, they're great, and when they're bad, they're still fun to riff on. I do not know enough about it to judge it yet, but the forthcoming film Splice looks interesting, at the very least. According to science blogger Tamara Krinsky:
The classic monster film gets a deliciously sadistic twist in Vincenzo Natali's contemporary dissection of the genetic-engineering dilemma. Clive and Elsa are young, brilliant, and ambitious. The new animal species they engineered has made them rebel superstars of the scientific world. In secret, they introduce human DNA…
An engraving of Koch's "Hydrarchos", from the American Phrenological Journal. (Pardon the smudges)
In July of 1845 the amateur fossil hunter Albert Koch brought his sea monster to New York City. A cousin of the serpentine creatures that so many had claimed to see off the coast of New England, the 114-foot-long skeleton looked to be the bones of the Leviathan itself, and crowds flocked to see the its ghastly form. It was called "Hydrarchos" by Koch, and it was was the ruler of the ancient seas.
It was also a monstrous hoax. The Hydrarchos skeleton did not belong to any one animal but to…
A stuffed coyote (Canis latrans), photographed at the Utah Museum of Natural History.
Detail of a Charles R. Knight mural depicting a family a mastodons.
Fossils often turn up in unexpected places. As people have dug swimming pools, tilled farms, blasted through mountains, and quarried the land for minerals traces of ancient life sometimes come to the surface, from isolated shark teeth to skeletons of our extinct hominin relatives. Even fossil graveyards are found this way every now and then, like the one found in a southern Pennsylvania quarry a little more than a century ago.
In late April 1907 William Jacob Holland, a paleontologist and director of Pittsburgh's Carnegie…
Contingency has been on my mind quite often these days. What would life look like today if the ancestors of the first land-dwelling vertebrates had two legs instead of four? How would non-avian dinosaurs continue to have evolved if they had not been wiped out 65 million years ago? What if, like many other prehistoric apes, our own ancestors fell into extinction during the Pliocene? Any one of these events would have changed the history of life on earth, and even though there are not answers to these questions they still remind me of how historical quirks can have major effects.
Though it has…
A horseshoe crab (Limulus polyphemus), photographed at Cape Henlopen State Park, Delaware.
A reconstruction of Smilodon, photographed at the American Museum of Natural History.
When it comes to animals, encyclopedias often present us with generalized descriptions. Where a creature lives, what color it is, what it eats, and other tidbits of information are listed to distinguish one species from another, but what is lost is an appreciation of variation. Be they genetic, anatomical, or behavioral, variations are grist for natural selection's mill, and if you study any species in detail it becomes apparent that individuals differ considerably over space and through time.
This was…
If I were teaching a course on evolution, this would probably be the first thing I would show the class.
A grizzly bear (Ursus arctos horribilis), photographed at the Bronx Zoo.
I love anatomy. With a little bit of background knowledge it becomes easy to see the similarities and disparities between any two organisms you wish to compare, and it is always exciting to see how the bones of my arms correspond to the flippers of a whale, the forelegs of a horse, the wings of a bird, and so on.
In order to highlight the resemblances between our skeleton and other vertebrates, though, illustrators have sometimes created some rather odd diagrams. While searching for grist for my writing mill I happened upon this one in the Boys' Airplane Book which purports to show the "…
A reconstruction of Smilodon, photographed at the American Museum of Natural History.
Tracey (pictured) and I go for a stroll in the snow.
A walkway light buried by the snow.
As the snow continues to pile up outside, I can't help but think of polar predators. There are animals that live and hunt in the conditions that are keeping me inside today, and one of my favorites is the leopard seal. An apex predator in its Antarctic home, the leopard seal is an enormous pinniped that specializes in hunting penguins and other seals. Getting into the water with one is not something to be done on a whim, but as described by photographer Paul Nicklen, particularly friendly predators can be among the most frightening: