Those Brits keep showing us up by unashamedly trumpeting good science on television and radio. The BBC has a whole collection of media on Darwin right now, most of it good.
Most. One thing I simply do not get is the infatuation with the idea that evolution has stopped for humans. I am baffled at how anyone can take such an idea seriously, yet there’s Steven Jones again making this peculiar claim.
Spiders are amazingly sophisticated animals, and probably the premiere complex adaptation of modern spiders is the ability to spin silk. They have multiple internal glands that can produce multiple kinds of silk — webs contain different kinds, from structural strands to adhesive strands, and other kinds are used for spinning egg cases and for wrapping prey — and they are sprayed out through small spigots mounted on swiveling spinnerets, which are modified opisthosomal (abdominal) limbs. Obviously, these detailed features did not spontaneously appear all at once, but had to have evolved progressively. A couple of fossils have recently been described that reveal a) silk spinning is ancient, from at least the Permian, but that b) these early spiders did not have the full array of modern adaptations.
Here is a pair of fossils: Permarachne novokshonovi, from the Permian in Russia, and a more recent specimen, and Palaeothele montceauensis, from the Carboniferous in France. Both are eight-legged arthropods, and if you saw one scuttling about now you wouldn’t hesitate to call them spiders. There are some differences, though: Permarachne in particular shows a little less tagmosis, or fusion and specialization of segments, than we usually see in spiders, and it also has that prominent flagellum (which is completely different from a bacterial flagellum!), a long segmented ‘tail’ covered with sensory hairs that was probably a sense organ; it has no sign of a web-spinning function.
What about the production of silk and webs in these old spiders? Here’s another specimen, Attercopus fimbriunguis, a 376 million year old fossil. It’s a little less dramatic because these are fragments of cuticle that have been carefully extracted by dissolving the rocky matrix with acid; it means, unfortunately, that it is more fragmented, but the advantage is that now we can zoom in microscopically and see far more detail in the structure. What we can now see in pieces of the ventral plates of the opisthosoma are small spigots, and in a few cases, there are even strands of spider silk still extended from these pores. In F, there’s also a nice shot of a chelicera (fang) from the spider — it’s wicked sharp, but the small holes seem to be preservation artifacts, and there’s no sign that venom secretion, another important spider adaptation, has evolved yet.
One of the critical observations here is very simple: no spinnerets. These spiders did not have the modified limbs with sets of spigots that we see nowadays, but instead, had a series of spigots arrayed across the bottom of the abdomen. They almost certainly were not able to make webs: what they could have done was produce sheets of silk, of the kind that could be used to make egg cases or wrap around prey. These are another example of a transitional fossil, forms that have only some of the capabilities of a later organism.
(via Cheshire, who promises to have his own post on this paper soon.)
Selden PA, Shear WA, Sutton MD (2008) Fossil evidence for the origin of spider spinnerets, and a proposed arachnid order. Proc Nat Acad Sci USA 105(52):20781-20785.
This week, Nature magazine published a short list of recent important developments in evolutionary biology that support the theory of evolution, as a tool to help explain that evolution is definitely a dynamic and useful theory in our field and to demonstrate that the evidence is still growing. Here’s a short summary of the 15 stories the editors picked out, but you should also read the freely available article, 15 Evolutionary Gems. Teachers, put this in your classroom!
The discovery of Indohyus, an ancestor to whales.
The discovery of Tiktaalik, an ancestor to tetrapods.
The origin of feathers revealed in creatures like Epidexipteryx.
The evolution of patterning mechanisms in teeth.
The developmental and evolutionary origin of the vertebrate skeleton.
Speciation driven indirectly by selection in sticklebacks.
Selection for longer-legged lizards in Caribbean island populations.
A co-evolutionary arms race between Daphnia and its parasites.
Non-random dispersal and gene flow in populations of great tits.
Maintenance of polymorphisms in populations of guppies.
Contingency in the evolution of pharyngeal jaws in the moray.
Developmental genes that regulate the shape of beaks in Darwin’s finches.
Evolution of regulatory genes that specify wing spots in Drosophila.
Evolution of toxin resistance.
The concept of evolutionary capacitance: the idea that environmental stress can expose hidden variations that are then subject to selection.
Here’s an interesting new blog, Moneduloides, that seems to have an emphasis on human evolution, if you’re into that sort of thing, and it currently has a short list of good texts for Christmas presents. <moan> I’ve done absolutely no Christmas shopping at all this year, so if the economy tanks and my family hates me, it is all my fault. I just have to get out from under this stack of grading first.
I made a mistake that was quickly corrected by a correspondent. Yesterday, in writing about copy number variants in human genes, I used the example of the amylase gene on chromosome 1, which exists in variable numbers of copies in human populations, and my offhand remark was that the effect is “nothing that we can detect”, but that maybe people with extra copies would be “especially good at breaking down french fries”. Well, it turns out that we can detect this, that there was even a very cool study of this enzyme published last year, and that the ability to break down complex starches rapidly may have been a significant factor in human evolution.
So of course I have to tell you all about this now.
The Institute for Creation Research has a charming little magazine called “Acts & Facts” that prints examples of their “research” — which usually means misreading some scientific paper and distorting it to make a fallacious case for a literal interpretation of the bible. Here’s a classic example: Chimps and People Show ‘Architectural’ Genetic Design, by Brian Thomas, M.S. (Note: this is not the peer-reviewed research paper implied by the logo to the left — that comes later.) The paper is a weird gloss on recent work on CNVs, or copy number variants. Mr Thomas makes a standard creationist inference that I have to hold up for public ridicule.
Here’s an interesting example of genetic programming: use a program that slightly alters colored polygons, compares the results to a target, and selects variants that most resemble the Mona Lisa. After less than a million generations, a black square turned into this:
Not bad. The description of the algorithm is a bit thin, but he promises to release the source code soon. It sounds like a million generations is an overestimate, since his population size in each generation was 1, and it also sounds like his selection was far more stringent than you’d find in nature, but it’s an interesting if oversimplified example of the power of chance and selection.
Simon Ings has written a wonderful survey of the eye, called A Natural History of Seeing: The Art and Science of Vision(amzn/b&n/abe/pwll), and it’s another of those books you ought to be sticking on your Christmas lists right now. The title give you an idea of its content. It’s a “natural history”, so don’t expect some dry exposition on deep details, but instead look forward to a light and readable exploration of the many facets of vision.
There is a discussion of the evolution of eyes, of course, but the topics are wide-ranging — Ings covers optics, chemistry, physiology, optical illusions, decapitated heads, Edgar Rice Burroughs’ many-legged, compound-eyed apts, pointillisme, cephalopods (how could he not?), scurvy, phacopids, Purkinje shifts…you get the idea. It’s a hodge-podge, a little bit of everything, a fascinating cabinet of curiousities where every door opened reveals some peculiar variant of an eye.
Don’t think it’s lacking in science, though, or is entirely superficial. This is a book that asks the good questions: how do we know what we know? Each topic is addressed by digging deep to see how scientists came to their conclusion, and often that means we get an entertaining story from history or philosophy or the lab. Explaining the evolution of our theories of vision, for example, leads to the story of Abu’Ali al-Hasan ibn al-Hasan ibn al-Haythem, who pretended to be mad to avoid the cruelty of a despotic Caliph, and who spent 12 years in a darkened house doing experiments in optics (perhaps calling him “mad” really wasn’t much of a stretch), and emerged at the death of the tyrant with an understanding of refraction and a good theory of optics that involved light, instead of mysterious vision rays emerging from an eye. Ings is also a novelist, and it shows — these are stories that inform and lead to a deeper understanding.
If the book has any shortcoming, though, it is that some subjects are barely touched upon. Signal transduction and molecular evolution are given short shrift, for example, but then, if every sub-discipline were given the depth given to basic optics, this book would be unmanageably immense. Enjoy it for what it is: a literate exploration of the major questions people have asked about eyes and vision for the last few thousand years.
