In the Name of Ecology

It stank. In fact, it stank so badly that my fellow classmates seriously considered chucking my precious research out of the lab and back into the ocean where it belonged. But I wouldn’t allow it: that stench, those slimy pieces of rotting bull kelp had become my pride and joy during my summer at Bodega Marine Laboratory (BML) --my child of some sorts for those few and precious weeks. It drove me crazy (up the wall, in fact, as I spent days and nights hoping and praying that the tide wouldn’t sweep it off in its currents, or some cranky bird wouldn’t tear it apart in the hope of a good meal), but I was doing it for the good of Ecology, which made it worth all of my pain and suffering.

It was from this very experience that I decided that I had to study abroad in Costa Rica. I want to smell the rainforest, feel the rainforest (even if it means feeling through mosquito bites), taste the rainforest. Once I am engulfed in this explosion of the senses, I want to begin another research project that I won’t stop talking about for the rest of my life—-just as important to me as beach wrack has become.

I know that it will not be easy. In fact, I am certain that it is going to be hard, harder than anything else that I have encountered. I know that on top of learning about tropical rain forest ecology, I will have to learn how to bridge the language and culture gap, while immersing myself in the hospitality of the Costa Rican people. I know that bridging these gaps is going to take compassion, courage, and patience.

But I also know that the hardest projects are the ones worth pursuing. I am ready to listen and learn about the Costa Rican culture. I am ready to brush up and use my high school Spanish, even if I sound like a five-year old during the process. I am ready to feel that rain forest, ready for this challenge. In the name of Ecology, I am ready to brave it all.

An Unexpected Obsession

Star Trek ruined me. No, seriously—ruined me. I wasn’t ready for it. But now, I couldn’t (and I wouldn’t) settle for a “less than ordinary life”.

The universe called to me wherever I went. My mind wandered between Earth and the stars. I jokingly (well, maybe not so jokingly) asked my parents for a space shuttle for the holidays, and watched any science fiction show I could get my hands on – Battlestar Galactica, Babylon 5—in an attempt to escape my frustration with this “intergalactic space travel-less” time period.

Movies and novels that I had once deemed “average” were now exhilarating. Velociraptors became evolutionary miracles. Stephen Hawking became my hero. My imagination had been unlocked and was quickly engulfing my ability to settle for reality.

I was caught in my own world of the impossible, struggling with the fact that I had been born in an era where space travel consisted of simple missions to the moon, and aliens were pure speculation rather than fact. I became accustomed to that tightening knot in my stomach. I knew that I would never be able to join Star Fleet, never able to explore the galaxy in search of new civilizations and alien species. And it was slowly killing me inside: slowly, but surely.

And just when I was about to give up my dreams of the stars, I discovered science writing. I realized that I could combine my enthusiasm for scientific knowledge with my overactive imagination. Hence, I found a way to shorten the gap between scientific reality and the impossible. My goal is to shorten your gap as well.

And now I can watch Star Trek without dying inside. Now, I can travel the universe whenever and wherever I am. Here's to finding the impossible in reality. And who knows-- maybe I will make it to the Moon someday.

Romance among the Sexes: A Conflict of Darwinian Interests

Eveline was a tall, attractive, red-headed women, who loved to draw and read Shakespeare—a true romantic. And like many women her age, she came to college looking for love (the degree was a mere side-product), looking for the one chivalrous man who would save her from her loneliness, love her for who she was, and would spend the rest of life with her most willingly. And one day love came crashing into her—literally. It began with a bike crash, and ended in dinner. They dated for a while, went on glamorous outings to Chipotle, told each other of their dreams over Tuesday Dollar Scoop Nights, stayed up late at night telling each other secrets, and even named a few of their future children. Eveline could have sworn that she was in love, that she had finally found the one. That was, until he split. Disappeared—nowhere in sight. Such is the story told over, and over, and over again—countless tales of women looking for the one, countless tales of men looking for the many. Yes, it is a tragedy for those lonely romantics out there, but biologically speaking this behavior makes complete sense.

And just how does a broken heart and lack of a suitable mate make biological sense? Am I just making excuses for poor and inconsiderate behavior? It would appear counterproductive—energy lost over romance and love (energy that could have been used for finding food or running from predators), with no offspring to show for it. However, remember that there was a time when contraceptives did not exist, and polygamy, rather than monogamy persisted—a time that is currently still the present for many non-human groups.

From the very beginning of time, there has been a conflict among the sexes. This very conflict in romantic interests falls under the category of sexual selection, a sub-category of one of evolution’s mechanisms—natural selection. Douglas Futuyuma, an evolutionary biologist who has written a textbook on evolution, describes evolution as the “change in the properties of groups of organisms over the course of generations” (Futuyma 2005). In other words, the prevalence of specific physical characteristics change in a population over time. In human terms, this is like saying that the frequency of black haired people throughout the world has increased with time.

Charles Darwin, the founding father of the notion of evolution and natural selection, proposed that evolution occurred through a mechanism called natural selection. He noticed that, on a wide scale, organisms normally produce more offspring than can survive, and that there was variation among traits that were genetically passed on to the next generation. Because of these truths, Darwin proposed that organisms who have more favorable physical traits in their environment survive to reproduce, therefore passing their genetic material onto the next generation. Thus, as long as these physical traits are favored in the organism’s habitat, the offspring will survive to reproduce and pass on the genes again, thus increasing the frequency of the gene in the population.

So, how are natural selection and sexual selection different from each other? Darwin noted that while “natural selection depends on the success of both sexes, at all ages, in relation to the general conditions of life”, sexual selection “depends on the success of certain individuals over others of the same sex, in relation to the propagation of the species” (Darwin 1871). In other words, sexual selection is one of the many mechanisms in which natural selection persists, yet focuses on the differences in successful reproduction among the sexes and how this relates to the species as a whole. On the other hand, natural selection looks at successful reproduction in terms of the entire population. Yes, it is true that both males and females wish to reproduce with the common Darwinian interest of their genetic material surviving to the next generation. However, because “females produce relatively few, large gametes (eggs) and males produce many small gametes (sperm)”, males tend to want to release as many as their sperm as possible, while females tend to be quite choosey with whom they mate with (Futyuma 2005).

Let’s give this example context, and look at it in terms of walruses. Male walruses can mate with as many females as they wish, with the overpowering consequence of increasing the chances of their genetic material’s survival with each time that they mate. If the sperm does not make it to the female’s egg, it is not a large energetic loss; sperm cost relatively energetically little to make, so the notion that a single egg is fertilized far outweighs the loss of many sperm.

On the other hand, females make fewer eggs because they are energetically costly. Why waste one of her precious eggs on a male who will make her offspring less likely to reproduce? What if her potential mate is rather small and therefore has trouble keeping warm (ie. might die of frostbite)? What if his tusks are not large enough to defend his territory? Females get fewer chances at reproduction, so they make sure that they only mate with those with the best genetic material.

Alas, the female’s resulting pickiness often results in a phenomenon called “Runaway Selection”. If a female walrus begins to favor larger tusks because it indicates that the male is better suited to defend himself from potential aggressors (and thus has better genetic quality), she will mate with males who have larger tusks. Thus, males with overall larger tusk size will be introduced into the next generation, females mating with males with larger and larger tusks and therefore creating this continuation of increasing tusk sizes into future generations. However, what happens when these tusks are so large that it prevents the male from running away from predators, or finding food? An equilibrium is found between large tusk size and survival of males, so that both the goal of survival and mating can be achieved.

Sure, this all makes sense in polygamous societies (ie. walruses), but we humans are monogamous and have values, correct? Yes, and no. Let’s look at it this way: it would make sense for men to copulate with as many women as possible, as doing so would increase chances of their genetic material’s survival. Sure, society encourages monogamous relationships through the highly coveted values of marriage and faithfulness; however, society on some level also encourages the promiscuity of males, while condemning it in females. Famous male stars, such as Hugh Hefner and James Bond, are accepted, even glorified, in their attempts to mate with as many women as possible. On the other hand, famous female stars, such as Britney Spears and Lady Gaga, are looked down upon for their promiscuous and provocative ways—not idolized for the embracement of their sexuality like Hugh Hefner or James Bond, rather condemned for their immoral behavior.

Okay, so this attitude is prevalent in our society. But why and how? Is this just how society has formed over time or can it be explained biologically? Evolutionary biologists would argue that it is instinctual. As the descendants of winners, our ancestors have been very successful in the propagation of their genetic material. Since males who copulate with many females generally have a higher chance of passing on their material, we can confidentially say that we are the descendants of males who have followed such practices.

Now that I have thoroughly slashed your ideas of true love and romance with a conflict of Darwinian interests, let me give you something else to think about: Eveline did eventually find love. And he did not disappear. He did not split after a few weeks. And he even had large muscles, which make him the perfect mate in terms of genetic quality. They settled down, started a family, and relished in a completely monogamous relationship. Now, what does that tell you about the Darwinian conflict among the sexes? Perhaps Darwin is not completely 100% correct. Perhaps there is still hope for the hopeless romantics out there. Here’s to hoping.

The Wooly Mammoth in Yellowstone National Park? The Inevitable Environmental Consequences of Cloning Pre-Historic Creatures

Terror sets in as the scaly reptile charges gracefully forward, its tail slashing back and forth, back and forth, its gigantic toe claw clacking menacingly on the linoleum floor as it echoes a petrifying squawk. They seem to speak to each other in an ancient language, seem to be working out their plan of attack. You are gone, dead meat, so to speak (and literally). No longer is man the king of the jungle, rather, the velociraptor. They, like other creatures of Earth’s pre-historic time, have captured the minds and hearts of people throughout the world. Horrifyingly brilliant. An evolutionary miracle. More than that- the ultimate predator. How could one not find these creatures utterly intriguing? Given the opportunity, wouldn’t you love to see these ancient creatures alive once again? Movies such as Jurassic Park contemplate this very question.

However, the opportunity to participate in such cloning opportunities has not truly surfaced until recently, that is, now that wooly mammoth DNA has been discovered. In 2007, a Nenets reindeer herder found a frozen baby wooly mammoth, and consequently notified scientists of its existence. Using proper protection to ensure that ancient bacteria from the corpse would not contaminate the scientific lab, scientists were able to harvest many different types of cells that contained viable DNA material (Mueller 2009). Hypothetically, these scientists would be able to bring this wooly mammoth back from extinction using this very genetic material. And while the temptation to reproduce these ancient creatures is inevitably strong, doing so would devastatingly disrupt the Earth’s ecosystem by upsetting the current food chains and establishment of organismal niches.

But before we discuss these consequences in depth, let’s take a look at just how scientists can take preserved pieces of an organism to make it into an actual breathing, walking, eating animal. For the sake of our example, let’s contextualize our example in the terms of wooly mammoth cloning. Hypothetically, there are several methods: scientist can either fertilize an elephant egg with a frozen sperm of a wooly mammoth (which will produce offspring that are genetically half elephant and half wooly mammoth), or replace the contents of an elephant’s cellular nucleus with that of a frozen wooly mammoth cell (creating offspring which are 100% wooly mammoth). And viola, there you have it-- a wooly mammoth living in the 21^st century (Mueller 2009).

If a frozen sperm of a wooly mammoth is found, one can implant the fertilized egg into the uterus of a female elephant (also called, “in vitro” fertilization). While “in vitro” fertilization will create offspring that are genetically half wooly mammoth and half elephant, breeding these offspring together throughout generations will progressively produce offspring that are more genetically similar to the wooly mammoth than the elephant (rather like amplifying certain traits through inbreeding-- think pure-bred dogs) (Mueller 2009).

If one finds and isolates a frozen cell found in a wooly mammoth carcass, one can take an elephant egg, remove its nucleus, and then replace the nucleus with the nucleus found in the frozen wooly mammoth cell. Using chemical or electric stimulations, the cell will then begin to divide, upon which will signal that the cells are ready for placement in the uterus of an elephant. This process will produce offspring that are genetically 100% wooly mammoth (Mueller 2009).

Even if scientists have not found a frozen cell of the organism and only have a portion of the sequenced mammoth genome, they can use a process called Polymerase Chain Reaction (PCR) to amplify small pieces of DNA into long strands of DNA. PCR essentially uses an enzyme called primerase to “prime” the small DNA strand, and then emplyes a special enzyme to fill in the DNA sequence gap between primers. The end result is a long strand of DNA (Eisen 2009). One can arrange these long strands of DNA into chromosomes and then place them into an artificial nuclear membrane. Upon placement of the created chromosomes into the artificial nuclear membrane, the cell will follow the same process as if the cell were found frozen inside the wooly mammoth, until a wooly mammoth is produced (Mueller 2009).

The brilliance of this new scientific knowledge is so ground-breaking that it just begs to be acted upon. Imagine it: scores of people would come from across the planet, all of which come to humor their childhood infatuation with creatures from pre-historic eras. And while it appears that the recreation of the wooly mammoth (or whichever pre-historic creature we decide to clone, perhaps even the terrifying amazing velociraptor) would not be harmful, think again-- the consequences of the introduction of pre-historic creatures into our society would be quite destructive to the Earth’s ecosystem.

Organisms rely on food chains for the obtainment of resources, such as food or water (Gray 2009). Let’s take the sea urchin, for example. Sea urchins feed upon kelp beds, gnawing away at the kelp with their incisors. But alas, the particular sea urchin that we are referring to is not so lucky, and becomes a hungry sea otter’s tasty dinner. And while the sea otter is hastily clawing its way into the sea urchin, a great white shark happens to detect the sea otter. It ‘tis a most unfortunate day for this sea otter, as it quickly becomes the great white shark’s snack in a single chomp. True, Mother Nature can be quite cruel.

Since the sea otter plays such an important role in this ecosystem, it is called a “keystone species”, meaning that the increase or decrease of its population would dramatically impact the populations of other organisms in its food web. The sea otter plays an important role in this food web (or, in other words, it has its own “niche”) by acting as food for great white sharks, and by eating sea urchins. Remove the sea otter from the food web, and problems will ensue. Great white sharks will have to rely on another food source for its obtainment of resources. The sea urchin population will drastically incline with this absence of its primary predator. And because there is no check on the sea urchin population, there will be more sea urchins to feed on kelp beds, thereby decreasing the numbers of kelp beds (Buck- Ezcurra and Armstrong 1996).

Now let’s say that humans find frozen pilosaur (a gigantic carnivorous dinosaur that ruled the pre-historic seas) DNA and therefore clone it to keep in a Jurassic Park type theme-park, living in an enormous underwater cage where people pay to see it (Marshall Cavendish Corporation 2000). However, living things have a tendency to escape, therefore ensuring that the pilosaur will eventually escape from its underwater cage and therefore be introduced into the ecosystem. While exploring its new found oceanic habitat, an enormous pilosaur detects a sea otter. Its carnivorous instinct kicks in, and suddenly, the sea otter becomes its dinner. Now, this would not be such a problem if there was only one incidence of this type of encounter. However, if the pilosaurs reproduce, they would dramatically affect the food chain by feeding on (and thereby decreasing) the great white shark and sea otter populations. Knock out these populations, and there you go-- unstable populations of sea urchins and kelp beds.

Now, we need to visualize this concept in terms of something a little more real and viable to us. Let’s say that scientists end up cloning the wooly mammoth and releasing it into Yellowstone National Park. Sure, their presence would attract more tourists, but the wooly mammoths would also compete for resources with the Yellowstone bison. Bison have had a long struggle keeping their populations growing or stable, as they were subject to excessive poaching in the 1800’s and a brucellosis outbreak during the 1990’s (Yellowstone National Park 2010). Add a competitor for resources (such as land and food) and the bison population could be effectively eliminated, despite all of the efforts taken to increase and stabilize its population over the years-- all because of the reintroduction of the wooly mammoth.

While cloning of pre-historic animals, such as the wooly mammoth (or even the velociraptor), would serve to quench the insatiable appetite of the human psyche to create, doing so would have devastating consequences on the Earth’s ecosystem by disrupting the currently established ecosystem niches. Yes, it is most upsetting that we present day human beings will never be able to live out their childhood fantasies. You’ll never be able to frolic in the fields alongside wooly mammoths. You’ll never be able to observe a velociraptor attack (which is likely lucky, especially since you would not last long in the presence of a velociraptor). But think about it this way: you are doing the environment and your grandchildren a favor. And they thank you for it.

References

Buck- Ezcurra, R, Armstrong, P, editors. 1996. Monterey Bay Aquarium: Sea Searcher’s Handbook. Monterey Bay (CA): Monterey Bay Aquarium. 169 p.

Eisen J. 2009. “Introduction to PCR”. Lecture.

Gray S. 2008. Food Webs: Interconnecting Food Chains. Mankato (MN): Compass Point Books. 48 p.

Marshall Cavendish Corporation. 2000. Aquatic Life of the World. Tarrytown (NY): Marshall Cavendish Corporation. 703 p.

Mueller T. Ice Baby. National Geographic. 2009 May;215(5): 30- 51.

Mueller T. Recipe for Resurrection. National Geographic. 2009 May;215(5): 52- 55.

Yellowstone National Park. Yellowstone Bison [Internet]. National Park Service; c2010 [cited 2010 Feb 1]. Available from: http://www.nps.gov/yell/naturescience/bison.htm