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Are kiwi and moa recent immigrants from Australia? Neither fossils nor genetic evidence support the story

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Monday, September 16, 2024

Marty Melville/AFP/Getty ImagesAotearoa New Zealand is a land of birds, from the smallest of wrens to the mightiest of moa. The ancestors of some species have been here for tens of millions of years, while others arrived only a few million years ago. So a recent suggestion that moa and kiwi are recent immigrants from Australia, while wrens and kākāpō are New Zealand’s truly ancient birds, was sure to ignite controversy. The contentious report was based on a scientific review of fossils found at St Bathans in Central Otago. However, putting dates on arrivals requires a combination of both physical fossil evidence in deposits of a known age and genetic dating techniques that determine when the birds we know today diverged from their closest relatives. Dating the arrival of birds in New Zealand New Zealand is part of the larger continent of Zealandia, which finished separating from the supercontinent Gondwana some 57 million years ago. Some familiar animals were likely present in proto-New Zealand at this time, including our unique silent frogs, the ancient tuatara and many invertebrates. Tens of millions of years of dispersal of both plants and animals followed. Fossils and DNA allow us to explore these dispersal events in detail. Fossils can preserve evidence for millennia longer than DNA molecules, but DNA can shed light on many processes even when fossils are rare. This quality is particularly valuable since the chance of finding fossils decreases the further back we look in time. Both approaches carry their own assumptions and biases that influence calculations of the range of arrival times. The ancestors of birds have been arriving in New Zealand for tens of millions of years. Adapted from Valente et al (2019), CC BY-SA Our team uses ancient DNA to date these arrivals, showing for example that the purple swamp hen ancestors of takahē and moho arrived in Aotearoa New Zealand around four million years ago from Australia, as part of a suite of open-habitat birds that included ancestors of the kakī black stilt, pouākai Haast’s eagle and kērangi Eyles’ harrier. Other genetic studies have shown the ancestors of New Zealand wrens, the most primitive of all perching birds, split off about 50 to 60 million years ago. Wren fossils are part of the wonders unearthed at St Bathans, alongside remains of both moa and kiwi. Genetic and morphological analyses of ratites (such as ostrich, kiwi, moa and elephant birds) suggest the ancestors of moa and kiwi reached Zealandia, separately, around 50 to 60 million years ago. Both groups filled the job vacancy in the ecosystem left by dinosaurs, becoming large and flightless. The kākāpō, meanwhile, along with the kākā and kea, belong to a family that split off from all other living parrots very early on; they, too, are an ancient group. But genetic dating of their arrival in Zealandia remains unresolved, with studies variously putting it between 20 to 80 million years ago. The genetic analysis of when kākāpō arrived in New Zealand remains unresolved. Chris Birmingham/Department of Conservation/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA Precise dating of these splits presents a significant challenge. Nevertheless, the range between 30 million and a few million ascribed to the moa and kiwi by the recent announcement is not borne out by available evidence – and neither group is Australian as reported. Moa are most closely related to the flying chicken-sized tinamous from South America, and kiwi are relatives of the giant extinct elephant birds from Madagascar. Indeed, Australia did not even exist as a discrete entity 50 to 60 million years ago; it was still firmly affixed to Antarctica and South America. Exactly what routes the ancestors of moa and kiwi took to reach Zealandia remains unknown. They were part of a group of flying birds with a worldwide distribution called Lithornids, which lost flight many times independently and evolved into the ratites we know today. The bones will speak The St Bathans fossil deposit has given us an indispensable window into prehistoric New Zealand, and in many ways it is familiar – the bones of moa, kiwi, parrots, wrens and bats provide a reassuring continuity. Excavating bird fossils at St Bathans. Nic Rawlence, CC BY-SA As the publication notes, though, there are also many strange things in the fossil deposit – crocodiles, a relative of flamingos and a giant turtle. There’s an Alice in Wonderland quality to St Bathans, and it’s a crucial piece of the story of Aotearoa New Zealand’s biological heritage. The presence of a bird’s fossil in the deposit indicates the lineage was present in New Zealand a long time ago. But how long ago, exactly? Most estimates put the age of the St Bathans lake sediments between 12 and 20 million years, but these estimates are imprecise, making definitive statements about the age of animal groups difficult. Even if a lineage was present in the St Bathans deposits, this still does not prove a continuous presence from that time to the present day. Whatever the age of St Bathans, it’s tempting to think remains found in the palaeo-lake are members of truly ancient lineages, while things that only arrived after the lake dried up are invaders, little more than wayward tourists that got off at the wrong stop. No matter when ancestors of birds arrived in New Zealand, their time on these isles has shaped their evolution in profound ways. Our team is working on determining arrival times and it’s looking increasingly dynamic, tied to environmental conditions. The ancestors of the majestic huia arrived here 27 million years ago, evolving distinct beak shapes in males and females and white-tipped feathers that were high-status symbols in Māori society. At the other end of the scale, the closest relative of the 16kg Haast’s eagle, whose ancestors arrived here a mere 2.5 million years ago, is the smallest eagle in the world – weighing only 1kg. Let’s continue to embrace and care for our amazing bird fauna – whatever their age, they all have a bit of Aotearoa New Zealand in them. Nic Rawlence receives funding from Royal Society Te Apārangi Marsden Fund. Alan Tennyson has been the recipient of Australian Research Council grants in the past that partly funded the St Bathans fossil excavations.Pascale Lubbe receives funding from Royal Society Te Apārangi Marsden Fund.

A recent announcement that kiwi and moa are Australian immigrants is not borne out by available evidence. Working out when birds arrived in New Zealand requires both fossil evidence and genetics.

Marty Melville/AFP/Getty Images

Aotearoa New Zealand is a land of birds, from the smallest of wrens to the mightiest of moa. The ancestors of some species have been here for tens of millions of years, while others arrived only a few million years ago.

So a recent suggestion that moa and kiwi are recent immigrants from Australia, while wrens and kākāpō are New Zealand’s truly ancient birds, was sure to ignite controversy.

The contentious report was based on a scientific review of fossils found at St Bathans in Central Otago.

However, putting dates on arrivals requires a combination of both physical fossil evidence in deposits of a known age and genetic dating techniques that determine when the birds we know today diverged from their closest relatives.

Dating the arrival of birds in New Zealand

New Zealand is part of the larger continent of Zealandia, which finished separating from the supercontinent Gondwana some 57 million years ago.

Some familiar animals were likely present in proto-New Zealand at this time, including our unique silent frogs, the ancient tuatara and many invertebrates. Tens of millions of years of dispersal of both plants and animals followed.

Fossils and DNA allow us to explore these dispersal events in detail. Fossils can preserve evidence for millennia longer than DNA molecules, but DNA can shed light on many processes even when fossils are rare. This quality is particularly valuable since the chance of finding fossils decreases the further back we look in time.

Both approaches carry their own assumptions and biases that influence calculations of the range of arrival times.

This graph shows the estimated arrival of ancestors of New Zealand's birds.
The ancestors of birds have been arriving in New Zealand for tens of millions of years. Adapted from Valente et al (2019), CC BY-SA

Our team uses ancient DNA to date these arrivals, showing for example that the purple swamp hen ancestors of takahē and moho arrived in Aotearoa New Zealand around four million years ago from Australia, as part of a suite of open-habitat birds that included ancestors of the kakī black stilt, pouākai Haast’s eagle and kērangi Eyles’ harrier.

Other genetic studies have shown the ancestors of New Zealand wrens, the most primitive of all perching birds, split off about 50 to 60 million years ago. Wren fossils are part of the wonders unearthed at St Bathans, alongside remains of both moa and kiwi.

Genetic and morphological analyses of ratites (such as ostrich, kiwi, moa and elephant birds) suggest the ancestors of moa and kiwi reached Zealandia, separately, around 50 to 60 million years ago. Both groups filled the job vacancy in the ecosystem left by dinosaurs, becoming large and flightless.

The kākāpō, meanwhile, along with the kākā and kea, belong to a family that split off from all other living parrots very early on; they, too, are an ancient group. But genetic dating of their arrival in Zealandia remains unresolved, with studies variously putting it between 20 to 80 million years ago.

Kakapo Sirocco among renga renga lillies on Maud Island.
The genetic analysis of when kākāpō arrived in New Zealand remains unresolved. Chris Birmingham/Department of Conservation/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

Precise dating of these splits presents a significant challenge. Nevertheless, the range between 30 million and a few million ascribed to the moa and kiwi by the recent announcement is not borne out by available evidence – and neither group is Australian as reported.

Moa are most closely related to the flying chicken-sized tinamous from South America, and kiwi are relatives of the giant extinct elephant birds from Madagascar. Indeed, Australia did not even exist as a discrete entity 50 to 60 million years ago; it was still firmly affixed to Antarctica and South America.

Exactly what routes the ancestors of moa and kiwi took to reach Zealandia remains unknown. They were part of a group of flying birds with a worldwide distribution called Lithornids, which lost flight many times independently and evolved into the ratites we know today.

The bones will speak

The St Bathans fossil deposit has given us an indispensable window into prehistoric New Zealand, and in many ways it is familiar – the bones of moa, kiwi, parrots, wrens and bats provide a reassuring continuity.

A group of people lying flat on their bellies while excavating fossils at St Bathans.
Excavating bird fossils at St Bathans. Nic Rawlence, CC BY-SA

As the publication notes, though, there are also many strange things in the fossil deposit – crocodiles, a relative of flamingos and a giant turtle. There’s an Alice in Wonderland quality to St Bathans, and it’s a crucial piece of the story of Aotearoa New Zealand’s biological heritage.

The presence of a bird’s fossil in the deposit indicates the lineage was present in New Zealand a long time ago. But how long ago, exactly? Most estimates put the age of the St Bathans lake sediments between 12 and 20 million years, but these estimates are imprecise, making definitive statements about the age of animal groups difficult.

Even if a lineage was present in the St Bathans deposits, this still does not prove a continuous presence from that time to the present day.

Whatever the age of St Bathans, it’s tempting to think remains found in the palaeo-lake are members of truly ancient lineages, while things that only arrived after the lake dried up are invaders, little more than wayward tourists that got off at the wrong stop.

No matter when ancestors of birds arrived in New Zealand, their time on these isles has shaped their evolution in profound ways. Our team is working on determining arrival times and it’s looking increasingly dynamic, tied to environmental conditions.

The ancestors of the majestic huia arrived here 27 million years ago, evolving distinct beak shapes in males and females and white-tipped feathers that were high-status symbols in Māori society.

At the other end of the scale, the closest relative of the 16kg Haast’s eagle, whose ancestors arrived here a mere 2.5 million years ago, is the smallest eagle in the world – weighing only 1kg.

Let’s continue to embrace and care for our amazing bird fauna – whatever their age, they all have a bit of Aotearoa New Zealand in them.

The Conversation

Nic Rawlence receives funding from Royal Society Te Apārangi Marsden Fund.

Alan Tennyson has been the recipient of Australian Research Council grants in the past that partly funded the St Bathans fossil excavations.

Pascale Lubbe receives funding from Royal Society Te Apārangi Marsden Fund.

Read the full story here.
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Genetic ghosts suggest Covid’s market origins

A team of scientists say it is "beyond reasonable doubt" the Covid pandemic started with infected animals.

Genetic ghosts suggest Covid’s market originsGetty ImagesRacoon dogs are implicated as one of the potential animals that could have been the source of CovidA team of scientists say it is “beyond reasonable doubt” the Covid pandemic started with infected animals sold at a market, rather than a laboratory leak.They were analysing hundreds of samples collected from Wuhan, China, in January 2020.The results identify a shortlist of animals – including racoon dogs, civets and bamboo rats – as potential sources of the pandemic.Despite even highlighting one market stall as a hotspot of both animals and coronavirus, the study cannot provide definitive proof.The samples were collected by Chinese officials in the early stages of Covid and are one of the most scientifically valuable sources of information on the origins of the pandemic.An early link with the Huanan Seafood Wholesale Market was established when patients appeared in hospitals in Wuhan with a mystery pneumonia.The market was closed and teams swabbed locations including stalls, the inside of animal cages and equipment used to strip fur and feathers from slaughtered animals.Getty ImagesHuanan Seafood Wholesale Market was closed in the early days of the pandemicTheir analysis was published last year and the raw data made available to other scientists. Now a team in the US and France says they have performed even more advanced genetic analyses to peer deeper into Covid’s early days. It involved analysing millions of short fragments of genetic code – both DNA and RNA – to establish what animals and viruses were in the market in January 2020."We are seeing the DNA and RNA ghosts of these animals in the environmental samples, and some are in stalls where [the Covid virus] was found too," says Prof Florence Débarre, of the French National Centre for Scientific Research.The results, published in the journal Cell, highlight a series of findings that come together to make their case.It shows Covid virus and susceptible animals were detected in the same location, with some individual swabs collecting both animal and coronavirus genetic code. This is not evenly distributed across the market and points to very specific hotspots."We find a very consistent story in terms of this pointing - even at the level of a single stall - to the market as being the very likely origin of this particular pandemic," says Prof Kristian Andersen, from the Scripps Institute in the US.However, being in the same place at the same time is not proof any animals were infected.Getty ImagesThe masked palm civet was also identified at the market and played a role in the Sars virus outbreak (which is related to the virus that caused the pandemic).The animal which came up most frequently in the samples was the common raccoon dog. This has been shown to both catch and transmit Covid in experiments.Other animals identified as a potential source of the pandemic were the masked palm civet, which was also associated with the Sars outbreak in 2003, as well as hoary bamboo rats and Malayan porcupines. The experiments have not been done to see if they can spread the virus.The depth of the genetic analysis was able to identify the specific types of raccoon dogs being sold. They were those more commonly found in the wild in South China rather than those farmed for their fur. This gives scientists clues about where to look next. Reading the virus's codeThe research teams also analysed the genetic code of the viral samples found in the market, and compared them to samples from patients in the early days of the pandemic. Looking at the variety of different mutations in the viral samples also provides clues.The samples suggest, but do not prove, that Covid started more than once in the market with potentially two spillover events from animals to humans. The researchers say this supports the idea of the market as the origin, rather than the pandemic starting elsewhere with the market adding fuel to the fire in a superspreading event.The scientists also used the mutations to build the virus’s family tree and peer into its past.“If we estimate when do we believe most likely the pandemic started versus when do we believe most likely the outbreak at the market started, these two overlap, they’re one and the same,” says Prof Andersen.In their scientific publication, the full genetic diversity of coronavirus seen in the early days of the pandemic was found at the market.Prof Michael Worobey, of the University of Arizona, said: "Rather than being one small branch on this big bushy evolutionary tree, the market sequences are across all the branches of the tree, in a way that is consistent with the genetic diversity actually beginning at the market."He said this study, combined with other data – such as early cases and hospitalisations being linked to the market – all pointed to an animal origin of Covid.Prof Worobey said: “It's far beyond reasonable doubt that that this is how it happened”, and that other explanations for the data required "really quite fanciful absurd scenarios".“I think there's been a lack of appreciation even up until now about how strong the evidence is.”Did the pandemic start here?Getty ImagesThe Wuhan Institute of Virology campus in Hubei province, China.The lab-leak theory argues that instead of the virus spilling over from wildlife, it instead came from the Wuhan Institute of Virology (WIV), which has long studied coronaviruses.It is located a 40-minute drive away from the market. The US intelligence community was asked to weigh up the likelihood of a leak – either accidental or deliberate.In June 2023, all the agencies involved said either a leak or animal origins were plausible scenarios.The National Intelligence Council and four other agencies said animals were the likely source. The FBI and the Department of Energy thought it was more likely to be a laboratory incident.Prof Andersen said: "To many this seems like the most likely scenario - 'the lab is right there, of course it was the lab, are you stupid?'. I totally get that argument."However, he says there is now plenty of data that "really points to the market as the true early epicentre" and "even locations within that market".Identifying the animals that could have been the source of the pandemic does provide clues to where scientists could look for further evidence of an animal origin.However, because farms destroyed their animals in the early days of Covid it means there may no longer be any evidence left to find."In all likelihood, we missed our chance," says Prof Worobey.Prof Alice Hughes, from the University of Hong Kong, who was not involved in the analysis, said it was a “good study”.“[But] without swabs from the actual animals in the market, which were not collected, we cannot obtain any higher certainty."Prof James Wood, the co-director of Cambridge Infectious Diseases, said the study provided “very strong evidence” of the pandemic starting in wildlife stalls at the market. However, he said it could not be definitive because the samples were collected after the market closed, and the pandemic probably started weeks earlier.And he warned "little or nothing" was being done to limit the live trade in wildlife, and "uncontrolled transmission of animal infections poses a major risk of future pandemics".

Mystery of Deep-Ocean ‘Biotwang’ Sound Has Finally Been Solved

A strange sound dubbed “biotwang” was first heard bouncing around the Mariana Trench 10 years ago, and scientists have finally figured out where it comes from

September 18, 20243 min readMystery of Deep-Ocean ‘Biotwang’ Sound Has Finally Been SolvedA strange sound dubbed “biotwang” was first heard bouncing around the Mariana Trench 10 years ago, and scientists have finally figured out where it comes fromBy Melissa HobsonA Bryde's whale (Balaenoptera edeni). By Wildestanimal/Getty ImagesRecorded by microphones deep in the ocean, the unexplained sound—a low, sonorous grunting followed by a squeaky, mechanical echo, like a frog burping in space—first rumbled through a computer speaker about a decade ago. Baffled researchers called it the “biotwang.”“You’ve got this low-frequency portion, like a moan,” says Lauren Harrell, a data scientist at Google Research’s AI for Social Good, adding her own impression of a hearty groan. “Then you have the higher-frequency component that sounds, to me, like the original Star Trek Enterprise ship—the ‘bip boo, bip boo’ sound.”Autonomous underwater gliders first recorded the odd noise echoing through the miles-deep Mariana Trench in 2014. Researchers couldn’t identify a source, but they had some theories. “There’s enough other artificial, Star Wars–sounding whale calls that they guessed it was made by a baleen whale,” says Ann Allen, a research oceanographer at the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA). But she notes that “anybody who’s not familiar with whales would never think this was made by an animal.”On supporting science journalismIf you're enjoying this article, consider supporting our award-winning journalism by subscribing. By purchasing a subscription you are helping to ensure the future of impactful stories about the discoveries and ideas shaping our world today.Hear the biotwang for yourself:Confirming which marine animal makes a peculiar noise isn’t easy, though: it requires a person on a boat to see and identify the source at exactly the same time the sound is heard. “It takes a lot of time, a lot of effort and a fair amount of luck,” Allen says.That’s how Allen, Harrell and their colleagues finally solved the biotwang mystery. While surveying whales off the Mariana Islands, an archipelago near the trench of the same name in the North Pacific Ocean, Allen and other NOAA researchers saw a mysterious species called the Bryde’s whale (Balaenoptera edeni) 10 times. These whales are spread out far across the huge open ocean, so it’s hard for scientists to observe or study them. On nine of the occasions that Bryde’s whales turned up, the researchers also heard the biotwang. “Once, it’s a coincidence,” Allen says. “Twice is happenstance. Nine times, it’s definitely a Bryde’s whale.”After identifying the source, they reviewed years of audio data from underwater hydrophones to find out where this specific whale sound had previously been heard. But NOAA’s growing database has more than 200,000 hours of such recordings. “It’s so much data that it’s simply impossible to analyze [manually],” says Olaf Meynecke, who specializes in baleen whales as a research fellow at Griffith University in Australia and wasn’t involved in Allen’s new biotwang study, which was published on Wednesday in Frontiers in Marine Science.When analyzing audio data for another project, Allen had been “flabbergasted” by the huge volumes of data to slog through. At one point, she says, her dad suggested, “Just get Google to do it for you.” So Allen reached out to company staff, and, to her surprise, they agreed. The company provided AI tools that helped speed up analysis by transforming audio data into an image called a spectrogram and then training algorithms to look for certain frequencies using image recognition.The new study lays out the evidence associating biotwangs with Bryde’s whales in the western North Pacific. The data confirmed that the animals the researchers studied comprise a distinct Bryde’s whale population and showed where in the ocean they were found during different seasons and years—something that had previously been impossible because scientists couldn’t tell different populations of the mysterious whales apart. And in 2016, when a strong El Niño led to a shift in the location of the whales’ food (largely krill, sardines and anchovies), there were lots of biotwangs—even in the northwestern Hawaiian Islands, an area these whales only ventured into under certain climate conditions. This could mean that their movements are at least partially determined by their prey’s distribution, which changes with environmental conditions."We seem to be so detached from, or simply have no access to, this amazing acoustic underwater world. I think it’s about time that we change that." - Olaf Meynecke, Griffith UniversityOnce scientists know where and when these whales travel, Harrell says, AI models could “connect that data to climate and environmental factors” and thus support protection efforts. As climate change worsens and there are possible changes to El Niño and its cold-water counterpart, La Niña, “these whales will have to travel further—and they may have to work a little harder in order to find food,” Allen says.The technology isn’t perfect. “These algorithms can only search for a frequency they know,” Meynecke says. Baleen whale vocalizations change over time and between populations. But because the tools are open-source, other scientists can use them to discover more about whale language. “We seem to be so detached from, or simply have no access to, this amazing acoustic underwater world,” he says. “I think it’s about time that we change that.”

The Madcap History of Mad Magazine Will Unleash Your Inner Class Clown

In a twist befitting its pages, the satirical, anti-establishment publication that delivered laughs and hijinks to generations of young readers gets the respect it always deserved with a new museum exhibition

In March 1976, a great American portrait debuted to an adoring public. It was a bicentennial appreciation of George Washington … of a sort. Inspired by The Athenaeum Portrait, Gilbert Stuart’s 1796 painting featured on the one-dollar bill, this rendering of the first president featured one distinction. The original showed Washington with swollen, tightly closed lips due to a new set of ill-fitting dentures, while the 1976 version had a gap-toothed smirk instantly recognizable to America’s middle school reprobates. Equally recognizable was the blank stare that those same kids knew evoked the iconic question: “What, Me Worry?” Drawn by 80-year-old illustrator Norman Mingo, Mad magazine mascot Alfred E. Neuman graced the cover of Issue No. 181 in a glorious powdered wig. It’s one of 275 original drawings—alongside 150 physical objects—on display in “What, Me Worry? The Art and Humor of Mad Magazine,” an exhibition running through October 27 at the Norman Rockwell Museum in western Massachusetts. It covers the full 72-year history of Mad, highlighted by the stretch from the mid-1960s to the early 1990s, when the magazine pilloried mass culture—television, movies, politics and more—in a way that introduced satire to kids raised on tamer entertainment like “Leave It to Beaver.” Nothing was off-limits in Mad, a newsstand stalwart that would reach peak annual sales in the 1970s of 2.5 million issues by delivering belly laughs and self-satisfaction to America’s class clowns through cartoons, parodies, sarcastic characters and an unending stream of gross-out gags. Mad gave mainstream American teenagers license to thumb their nose at institutions in a way that had never really happened on a mass scale, a seismic change that would have a huge influence on pop culture through the likes of “Saturday Night Live,” David Letterman, Conan O’Brien and “Family Guy.” On a sunny August afternoon, I spent a few hours slowly wandering throughout the five galleries, reveling in the Mad days of my youth. At 53, I grew up falling in love with the magazine during the last years of its self-described “classic era.” Looking at all the amazing artwork, particularly the movie drawings of “The Odd Father” and “Jaw’d” by the legendary caricaturist Mort Drucker, took me back to the way-way-facing-the-rear-window-back of an Oldsmobile station wagon. In our family, Mad was strictly a road trip treat. Being immersed in all things Mad in the summer of 2024 transported me to 1980, thumbing through issues with my brothers while listening to Billy Joel and Queen on a battery-powered single-speaker eight-track player loop for the long trip from Montana to Los Angeles. In this illustration for Mad magazine #155 from 1972, cartoonist Mort Drucker sent up the massive hit The Godfather.  MAD and all related elements © & ™ E.C. Publications. Courtesy of DC. Used with permission from Norman Rockwell Museum And I’m hardly alone in my adoration. The Tuesday I visited the museum was crowded, with more than a few tie-dyed gray-hairs audibly laughing at the subversive spreads once hidden under their mattresses. The exhibition is the best kind of memory lane stroll, one that thrilled co-curator Steve Brodner, who came of age in the magazine’s heyday. “In the period before puberty hits, you start to get an awareness of yourself in the world, and for kids wired a certain way you start questioning parents, teachers, other adults, and that’s what Mad did: It showed how important it was to be skeptical of institutions and so-called authority figures of all kinds,” says Brodner, whose own satirical art has appeared in a variety of publications over the last 50 years. “Mad was a cultural earthquake. It engaged us to consume newspapers, movies, political speeches, advertising, books and so on differently.” “It was the first place that told me, ‘This is a load of crap they are trying to sell you for their own self-interest, and you don’t have to buy it.’ Mad was encouraging what we now call critical thinking, which is a dangerous thing,” he adds. The antihero’s origin story Mad magazine had its beginnings in 1947, when publisher Maxwell Gaines’ death in an upstate New York boating accident left his Educational Comics company to his 25-year-old son, William Gaines. Under Maxwell, the comics featured stories of science, animals, history and Picture Stories From the Bible. When William took over, he quickly shifted gears to “Entertaining Comics” (EC for short) and started publishing romance, westerns, science fiction, war and horror stories, most notably Tales From the Crypt. Gaines the younger had more than laughs and frights on his mind, however; woven into EC Comics were progressive ideals around racial equality, pacifism, environmentalism and the existential nuclear-age dread rarely spoken of in the placid, conformist 1950s. In 1952, a comic book poking fun at other comic books debuted, but it would take four issues for Tales Calculated to Drive You MAD to take off. That fourth one featured the parody “Superduperman,” a blueprint for making hay of pop culture and politics. Amid a panic over youth corruption, inspired in part by EC’s other publications, editor Harvey Kurtzman convinced Gaines to retool Mad from a comic book into a magazine, and in July 1955 (Issue No. 24), a future mockery machine emerged. Mad quickly found an audience, which prompted Kurtzman to ask Gaines for majority ownership in the company. Denied, Kurtzman took his small stable of talent with him to launch a short-lived competitor. Undeterred, Gaines installed EC Comics veteran Al Feldstein as editor, a position he would hold for 29 years. Feldstein’s 2014 New York Times obituary described him as the guiding spirit who “gave Mad its identity as a smart-alecky, sniggering and indisputably clever spitball-shooter of a publication with a scattershot look.” Feldstein filled out the roster of artists and writers; the full-time staff was small, often just a half-dozen people give or take, so nearly every contributor worked freelance. Gaines paid good rates, and for freelancers, Mad was a steady side gig—plus, they could work from home, which was unique for the time. As publisher, Gaines created a hands-off atmosphere that let his creative team of artists’ freak flags fly. Mort Drucker was a Mad magazine legend, drawing illustrations for the publication for decades. Courtesy of the Normal Rockwell Museum “There were no rules at Mad. Everyone wrote whatever they wanted. Now whether it was accepted was a different thing, but [Gaines] left us to our own cockamamie ideas,” says Dick DeBartolo (aka “Mad’s Maddest Writer”), who successfully submitted in 1962 as a 17-year-old high schooler and went on to be featured in every issue for over 50 years. “I sent in a self-addressed stamped envelope, and six weeks later I received a piece of cardboard with a $100 check stapled to it with a note: ‘Thought your story was being returned?’” From its earliest days, Mad was steeped in a New York Jewish sensibility (the original Neuman is certainly in the “Seinfeld” DNA), so Gothamites would drop their work off at the Midtown Manhattan offices, but submissions came from all over the country. Writers and illustrators also didn’t work together. DeBartolo wrote movie parodies as actual screenplays, which were then sent to the artists. “[Gaines] was a father figure to a bunch of kids, sometimes delinquent, who created an atmosphere for artists and writers to thrive,” says DeBartolo. “All he cared about was that the magazine was funny. His approach is the reason Mad took off.” What it added up to was a publication put out eight times a year—Gaines thought some months, like near the start of school, would be bad for sales—that didn’t have the conformity of something put together by a staff forced to attend all those boring meetings. There were, of course, plenty of recurring features and characters, but page-to-page, the humor and style matched the whims of the talent and kept Mad from getting stale. “The movie parodies were more than humorous versions of the films—they were often analytical and critical deconstructions of huge box-office hits. Roger Ebert wrote an introduction to one of our collections and said, ‘I learned to be a movie critic by reading Mad magazine,’” says illustrator Sam Viviano, who made his Mad debut in 1981 with a J.R. Ewing-Alfred E. Neuman mashup cover and would go on to serve as art director. “Going back decades, Mad had fake ads hammering the tobacco industry and how awful cigarettes were, which came after Gaines quit and a lot of contributors followed suit. They were ahead of the times, saying, ‘Don’t believe what you’re told about smoking: It’s gross, harmful and certainly doesn’t make you look pretty,’ in hilarious fashion.” Cover illustration for Mad magazine No. 223, June 1981 MAD and all related elements © & ™ E.C. Publications. Courtesy of DC. All Rights Reserved. Used with permission from Norman Rockwell Museum It was a Mad, Mad, Mad magazine world One of the most important, and beloved, magazine elements made its debut in April 1964, Issue No. 86, the one with the “Alfred of Arabia” cover: the “fold-in” back cover. Cartoonist Al Jaffee’s signature stroke of brilliance turned the Playboy centerfold inside-out. The “fold-in” required doing just that to the inside back cover, which Gaines loved because he thought diehards would buy two copies: one destroyed, the other kept pristine. Jaffee’s first effort, the first of 33 in black and white, was constructed around the torrid Liz Taylor-Richard Burton affair. The fold-ins went color in 1968, and Jaffee cranked them out until 2020, when he retired at the age of 99, having contributed to 500 of the 550 Mad issues overall. The Rockwell Museum exhibition covers the introduction of the fold-in, as well as other memorable regular features in the magazine’s pages. A “part leering wiseacre, part happy-go-lucky kid” was Kurtzman’s description of the nameless character whose first prominent appearance came in April 1956 (Issue No. 27). In December of that year, after Feldstein christened him Alfred E. Neuman, he appeared on the Mingo-drawn cover of Issue No. 30 as a write-in candidate for president, and he’s run in every election since. Similar looking gap-toothed imps had appeared in advertisements, playbills and elsewhere over the years, and a lawsuit filed by the widow of cartoonist Harry Spencer Stuff claiming Neuman had been copied from her husband’s cartoon, “the Original Optimist,” known as “Me-worry?” went nowhere. And by that time, Neuman had become synonymous with Mad. This Al Jaffee fold-in, "What Simple Pastime is Becoming a Luxury that Many Americans Can No Longer Afford?" appeared in issue #172 in 1979. Collection of Dr. Louis Kaminester MAD and all related elements © & ™ E.C. Publications. Courtesy of DC. All Rights Reserved. Used with permission by Norman Rockwell Museum Another beloved feature came from the pen of Cuban artist Antonio Prohías. Forced to flee his native country after his cartoons took aim at Fidel Castro’s totalitarianism and he was accused of working for the CIA, Prohías would get his venganza in January 1961 (Issue No. 60), when he sold three drawings for $800. The world now knew the wordless Cold War enemies of espionage, the Black Spy and the White Spy, two interchangeable spooks hellbent on destroying one another. (The two were joined sporadically in the early years by the female Gray Spy, who didn’t have the face and beak of a crow and always outwitted her male counterparts.) Using a Morse code byline for “By Prohías,” the artist contributed 241 “Spy vs. Spy” cartoons, up until 1987, when the pen was handed off to other artists to keep the dynamite duo alive. Prohías died in Miami in 1998, knowing full well, as he told the Miami Herald 15 years prior, “The sweetest revenge has been to turn Fidel’s accusation of me as a spy into a money-making venture.” In October 1961 (Issue No. 66), another long-running staple debuted with Dave Berg’s “The Lighter Side of the Television Set.” These pieces were often sendups of the then-burgeoning suburban lifestyle: office life, parties, winter, Little League baseball, hippies, sex, shopping and so on. Berg, who also created bumbling, cranky, pipe-smoking, hypochondriac alter-ego Roger Kaputnik, would end up writing for 46 years, penning “The Lighter Side of …” for 365 issues before his death in 2002. Two reasons Mad had so many lifers were their personal loyalty to Gaines and their love of his lavish trips. Gaines was stingy with raises but generous with a huge perk: taking the staff and regular freelance contributors on elaborate vacations all over the globe. The first trip, taken in 1960 after hitting the million mark in sales, was to Haiti. It included a stop at the home of the island’s one lapsed subscriber. Gaines loaded up the crew in five jeeps, and they all got on their knees on his front lawn as the man received a renewal card. A neighbor saw the commotion and came over to check it out. Gaines proudly announced that they doubled their Haitian subscriber base. What began as weeklong trips to tropical islands grew into full-on multiweek adventures—eventually with spouses and partners—to Japan, France, Russia and Kenya. These weren’t really work trips, either; it was all for fun, excitement, jokes (presumably plenty that wouldn’t fly today), and so much food and drink, as Gaines had a major gourmand’s appetite and the build to match. “I went on my first trip in 1987, excited to go to Switzerland and Paris, but nervous I would have to sit at the kid’s table because these guys had been working together, and taking these vacations together, for a long time. But they embraced me with no hesitation, and I became a Mad guy for life,” says Viviano. “Gaines really was the Big Daddy, but he never forgot his roots. Well into the 1980s, he was still running it like a mom and pop comic books shop, using an old-fashioned check-writing machine. Anything to keep it from feeling corporate. DeBartolo pointed out Gaines had the clause that he ‘had the right to be unreasonable’ written into every contract, because nobody read them anyway.” “Raiders of a Lost Art” Gaines’ death in 1992, at the age of 70, was the beginning of Mad’s long, slow decline. DeBartolo says it wasn’t long before the “suits” came in and started cleaning up the place, starting with all the original art on the walls, which he thinks they sold for a couple million dollars. Gone were the days of white wine in the water cooler and a massive King Kong head hidden behind blinds in the boss’s office. After the mid-1970s, circulation dropped precipitously, down to 208,000 in 2001 when the magazine switched to color and started taking real advertisements. In 2017, Mad’s corporate owner, DC Comics, moved the offices to Burbank, California. Pay rates were cut, and none of the aging New Yorkers were interested in making a West Coast go of it. Six issues were published that year, but in 2019, after 67 years, Mad issues with original content were officially kaput. Originally conceived by Cuban dissident Antonio Prohías, "Spy vs. Spy" became yet another hallmark of Mad magazine, with two dueling characters finding inventive ways to one-up each other. Here, artist Peter Kuper with a version that appeared in a 2007 issue of Mad. Collection of the artist. MAD and all related elements © & ™ E.C. Publications. Courtesy of DC. All Rights Reserved. Used with permission. Technically, Mad is still being published, but it’s recycled material from the glory days with a new fold-in and cover. It’s a niche’s niche now, and kids like Bart Simpson who dreamed of meeting their Mad idols were left in the last century. (To wit, I sent my 13-year-old Swiftie daughter a postcard from the exhibition of the April 2024 issue featuring Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce to her sleepaway camp. She said nobody in the cabin had ever heard of Mad.) Given that the magazine’s readership peaked 50 years ago; that so many of the early Mad men—it was always a boy’s club—have died; and that Alfred E. Neuman is basically a museum artifact himself these days, an exhibition this year celebrating it makes perfect sense. The question is: What’s the connection between the folksy Norman Rockwell and the ribald Gang of Idiots? Turns out, it’s literal. “We are a museum fully dedicated to art of illustration, generally what is published in one form of mass communication or another,” says Stephanie Plunkett, the museum’s chief curator. “Rockwell, who drew 322 Saturday Evening Post covers, was a great humorist and a cartoonist in certain ways, so from a curatorial standpoint, I knew this is where a Mad exhibition of this size and scope belongs.” The show evolved out of conversations many years ago between Plunkett and Murray Tinkelman, an artist and historian who was crazy about the magazine. Whenever anyone involved in the pre-planning mentioned it, even in casual conversation, people’s eyes got as wide as a Don Martin bug-out. “People who knew Mad didn’t need any sort of explanation as to what the exhibit would be. You could see from the smiles they understood it and wanted to see it,” Plunkett says. “We thought that during challenging times, everyone could benefit from laughter. It’s mainly been middle-aged fans and up on a warm nostalgia trip, but we’ve had a dedicated viewership that’s driven higher attendance than usual.” The most entertaining wrinkle of the curation process is that it included its own Indiana Jones—or “Inbanana Jones,” to use Mad lingo—Ark of the Covenant moment. Buried in the archives were 1964 letters from Feldstein and art director John Putnam attempting to commission Norman Rockwell for “a definitive painting of the sly little elf, Alfred E. Neuman, who represents our mascot and ubiquitous presence.” Mad offered $3,000 for a charcoal print and a full-color oil painting. Rockwell made a note to ask for his standard $5,000, but in a short letter found in a private collection, the then-70-year-old eventually declined the offer, saying he and his wife thought better of it and, “I hate to be a quitter, but I’m afraid we would all get in a mess.” “We thought a correspondence between Mad and Rockwell was a long shot, so finding the back-and-forth letters made for an amazing day. Norman rarely did commissioned drawings to begin with. Both Marvel and Bob Dylan were turned down,” says Plunkett. They are certainly simpatico hanging on the wall. One of the exhibition’s highlights is Rockwell’s 1960 Triple Self Portrait side by side with its spoof, the 2002 Alfred E. Neuman rendering by Richard Williams. The stately paintings offer a nice contrast to some of the wilder bits of ephemera like the board game many of us played as kids (whoever goes broke is the winner), the Charles Schulz-drawn Peanuts panel with a special Mad guest, a roasting Christmas display and a nightmare-inducing clip of Fred Astaire hoofing it in full Alfred E. Neuman getup. The curators know who the target audience is: people who still get a kick out of decades-old barf japes. Richard WilliamsIn the exhibition, a famed Rockwell triple-self portrait hangs alongside a classic Alfred E. Neuman spoof, showing the grinning cover boy, also in triplicate. Courtesy of the Norman Rockwell Museum “In putting the show together, nobody mentioned Mad ever being considered high art. It was written to make kids laugh, all these artists and writers in a state of arrested development because they had to get into that mindset,” says Brodner, who posts new daily illustrations at The Greater Quiet. “This didn’t mean talking down to their audience. There were sophisticated political references like Richard Nixon and Spiro Agnew burning subpoenas as the conmen from The Sting, but always with the understanding of what 11-year-olds find funny.” I was one of those 11-year-olds, and you couldn’t wipe the big, broad, goofy Alfred E. Neuman smile off my face at the Norman Rockwell Museum. And what do you get when you cross Mad magazine with the illustrator synonymous with 1950s Americana? The museum has an answer with a brand-new fold-in: “Freedom From Worry.” "What, Me Worry?" is on view at the Normal Rockwell Museum in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, through October 27, 2024. Get the latest Travel & Culture stories in your inbox.

First large-scale UK onshore salmon project at risk over ‘factory farm’ claimss

Animal rights campaigners win a judicial review over pioneering £120m scheme at Grimsby portOn former railway sidings at Grimsby docks in Lincolnshire, the seafood industry is backing new plans for an onshore salmon farm that it claims will create jobs, cut emissions and help meet the nation’s huge demand for the fish.The scheme would be the UK’s first large-scale onshore salmon farm, with the fish growing to a weight of four or five kilograms. The project’s backer says the closed system would prevent disease and invasions of sea lice, which can blight open-net salmon farms. Continue reading...

On former railway sidings at Grimsby docks in Lincolnshire, the seafood industry is backing new plans for an onshore salmon farm that it claims will create jobs, cut emissions and help meet the nation’s huge demand for the fish.The scheme would be the UK’s first large-scale onshore salmon farm, with the fish growing to a weight of four or five kilograms. The project’s backer says the closed system would prevent disease and invasions of sea lice, which can blight open-net salmon farms.But the project is now at the centre of a legal battle between North East Lincolnshire council, which approved the scheme in November last year, and animal rights campaigners, who claim it is a “new form of factory farming”. The animal welfare charity Animal Equality UK has successfully sought permission for a judicial review over the scheme, which is supposed to produce about 5,000 tonnes of fish a year.Abigail Penny, the charity’s executive director, said: “To accommodate the extremely tight profit margins for a project of this nature, the fish must be crammed into crowded tanks and kept in artificial environments throughout their entire lives. Many similar farms have suffered mass mortality events, with thousands of fish dying due to failing equipment.”Councillors who approved the scheme last year were told that concerns about fish welfare should be noted, but “are not considered to be material land use planning considerations”.Animal Equality UK was granted permission for judicial review on 5 September after it argued animal welfare could be considered during the planning process and the councillors were misdirected by officials.UK consumers spend more than £1.2bn a year on salmon in supermarkets and large retailers, making it the nation’s most popular fish. Farmed salmon is one of the UK’s biggest exports, but the operators of open-net salmon farms have been accused of having a “catastrophic impact” on fish welfare and the environment.The proposed onshore salmon farm will be located at the docks in Grimsby, Lincolnshire. Photograph: AP S (uk)/AlamyCharities and conservation groups in January called for organic certification to be removed from open-net salmon and trout farms, because of the “negative environmental impacts”.The Scottish salmon industry says its farmers meet the highest international standards and are committed to protecting the marine environment.The Centre for Environment, Fisheries and Aquaculture Science, a government agency, has highlighted the potential role of indoor tank systems, known as recirculating aquaculture systems.It says these “closed-loop systems” minimise the risks associated with conventional fish farming such as pollution, parasites and escapees. An English aquaculture strategy published in November 2020 said there was growing investor interest in the land-based production of Atlantic salmon close to large English cities.The proposed new £120m farm on the eastern outskirts of Grimsby docks is backed by the company AquaCultured Seafood. The business says the facility would “optimise” fish welfare and prevent disease or sea lice from entering the system. The scheme is supported by the Seafood Grimsby and Humber Alliance as a “stepping stone’ to UK food security.skip past newsletter promotionafter newsletter promotionA submission to the planning committee by Mark Borthwick, a doctoral fellow in salmon farming, warned the farm would require high stocking densities. He said salmon ranged widely with a strong migration drive and it was unknown how they would cope in the cramped conditions of an onshore farm.His submission stated: “The industry’s hope is that by doing the whole operation under factory conditions, they can control disease. However, as has been abundantly established in other farming environments, there is no truly biosecure factory farm and other diseases will emerge.”Edie Bowles, solicitor at Advocates for Animals, the legal firm representing Animal Equality UK in the case against the council, said: “I am delighted with the [judicial review] application being granted permission. It will hopefully be a wake-up call to other planning authorities that they need to follow the correct process.“This case is all about proper scrutiny being given for planning decisions that pose huge risks, including to animal welfare.”The council said it would not comment while legal proceedings were continuing. AquaCultured Seafood has been approached for comment.

From dinosaurs to dolphins, what gaze following reveals about the evolution of empathy

Studying the gazes of other animals has surprising insight into the development of human consciousness

Picture this: You’re at a bar and someone clearly intoxicated starts telling your friend their grand theory about how the Titan submersible implosion was faked. Your friend locks eyes with you, clearly wanting to leave this dreadful conversation. She makes eyes to the door. Following someone’s gaze may seem like a simple act, but it has profound implications for the evolution of intelligence. And humans are far from the only animals that do it. A recent study of bottlenose dolphins in the journal Heliyon adds to previous research identifying the ability to follow the gazes of members of other species — a visual and cognitive trick that may relate to the development of empathy — across a wide range of mammals, not just humans and our fellow primates. What’s even more interesting is to trace this ability through not just the mammal family but beyond, to reptiles and birds — and perhaps back as far as the Jurassic period. Doing so reveals not just aspects of how the human capacity for empathy may have evolved from traits seen in our ancestors, but also displays the mysterious details of evolution by natural selection. While not driven by any conscious or guiding force, it can in a way be seen as nature’s imagination — which sometimes comes up with the same ideas over and over again. Putting yourself in another’s shoes Gaze following can help an animal identify predators or see what tasty treats their same-species competitor has discovered, among other useful things. To evaluate animals’ abilities to follow the direction a human experimenter is gazing — for example, noticing the experimenter looking at food and then checking back to be sure before going for the reward — researchers teach the animals how to independently gain a reward. Then, scientists being mean buggers, will give them a similar task that is unsolvable: this is called the “impossible task paradigm.” An animal’s ability to follow the gaze of another, including another species, may form a basis for advanced social cognition. But, given an impossible task by Elias Garcia-Pelegrin and his team of researchers (who did not respond to an email interview request from Salon), bottlenose dolphins were not, in fact, driven mad in frustration; instead, they demonstrated the ability to use human attentional cues, staying still and quickly alternating their gaze between the experimenter and the object of the impossible task — while giving up the gaze alternation as soon as the lead experimenter’s back was turned towards them. Of note: gaze following isn’t a single thing; the impossible task literature divides it into various types, which may suggest different cognitive abilities on the part of the experimental animal. “High-level” gaze following, like the dolphins demonstrated, involves putting oneself in the shoes of another by watching where they are looking to see from the other’s perspective. In general, by identifying important objects in their environment, an animal’s ability to follow the gaze of another, including another species, may form a basis for advanced social cognition, paving the way for cooperation and empathy. One such high level type, “geometrical gaze following,” occurs if you block the thing that the other is looking at so the subject can’t see it, so that they will physically reposition themself to see what others are seeing. Geometrical gaze following isn’t even seen in human children before eighteen months of age – and yet wolves, apes and monkeys, and birds of the crow (corvid) and starling genuses have all been found to engage in it. You’ll notice, perhaps, that the trait has therefore been seen in various mammal families (primates and the dog-like animals, called canids), as well as some but not all birds. But what does this mean? Converging on a point Most likely, it suggests that visual perspective-taking or gaze following evolved independently in mammal groups that had already diverged earlier in their history. For example, experimental evidence suggests it might have arisen at similar times, though separately, in both the monkey ancestors (primates) and dog ancestors (canids) This is called convergent evolution, where evolutionarily distinct groups that occupy similar environmental roles (or “niches”) evolve similar traits. Want more health and science stories in your inbox? Subscribe to Salon's weekly newsletter Lab Notes. “The sort of simple way that I typically define convergent evolution,” Tim Sackton, director of bioinformatics at Harvard University’s FAS Informatics Group, told Salon, “is if there’s a trait that you see in some species, whatever it is, that evolved independently.” That is, the trait isn’t one that the species you’re comparing got from their common ancestor, but one that emerged in totally different lineages. “Many other traits seem to be solutions to common problems,” Sackton said. “And so natural selection sort of optimizes for organisms to converge on that same phenotype.” By phenotype, Sackton means the actual expression of that trait, like having flippers or engaging in gaze following, as opposed to its genotype, meaning the genetic makeup that results in that trait. Examples of convergent evolution include the similarly streamlined teardrop body shape that evolved in ichthyosaurs, sharks, tuna and dolphins — a response driven by natural selection in similar ocean environments; the camera-like eye structure that evolved independently in vertebrates, including humans, and in cephalopods like squid or octopuses; or certain fish in both the Arctic and Antarctic seas, only very distantly related, which independently evolved antifreeze proteins to protect their tissues and blood from the extreme cold. Likewise, it seems that gaze following is an aspect of social cognition that has proven its worth as a “solution” to problems for a variety of evolutionarily distant groups. As a bioinformatician, Sackton’s interest lies in trying to understand what part of the genome of very different evolutionary groups can lead to similar traits being expressed. The traits that strike us as convergent sometimes actually relate to similar proteins being produced by the expression of related genes in these very distant species; sometimes, though, the convergent traits are more superficial than that and only seem similar without having an underlying genetic basis in common. Take the convergent evolution of flippers. Sackton and colleagues have found that areas of the genome that regulate the development of the hindlimbs are at play in the very divergent types of animals in whom hindlimbs devolved into flippers. By contrast, Sackton’s collaborator Nathan Clark has found that in the loss of eyesight that occurs sometimes in the evolution of many unrelated subterranean animals, the genome changes from that of their non-subterranean ancestors in similar ways to do with genes coding for proteins expressed in the lens, cornea or other parts of the eye. Whether the genes in question relate to the developmental process or to the expression of proteins, Sackton and Clark write that we’re finding that there’s often a lot more genetic convergence — similar things going on at the level of genes — underpinning the similarities we see between unrelated organisms than you’d expect. So far, there doesn’t seem to have been much research into the genetic underpinnings of gaze following in animals — although there has been some looking at humans, in whom impaired gaze following can be a sign of conditions such as autism spectrum disorder. Diverging again What about birds and their reptilian relatives? Why would some have advanced gaze following abilities and some not? A study published last year in Science Advances looks at Archosaurs, the group that includes birds, crocodilians and their dinosaur ancestors, providing some evidence about this. Researchers Claudia Zeiträg, Stephan A. Reber, and Mathias Osvath compared paleognaths, the most neurocognitively “basic” of birds, with crocodilians, birds’ closest living relatives. They found that the alligator, a crocodilian, was unable to really grasp advanced visual perspective taking. However, both the paleognaths (those birds most similar to their earliest bird ancestor, such as the kiwi, the ostrich and the cassowary) and non-paleognath birds (more specialized birds — a nice duck, say, or a swallow — that have evolved characteristics that make them less similar to the earliest bird ancestors) all engaged in gaze following. They even exhibited checking-back behavior at the level of apes. Alligators do follow gazes into the distance, but this simpler form of gaze-following is a feature shared by all amniotes (that is, all of the four-legged animals plus descendants of four-legged vertebrates, like birds). The visual perspective-taking exemplified by geometric gaze following, write Zeiträg and her colleagues, “is a form of functional representation, leading to behaviors that correspond to the fact that the other has a different perspective and that its gaze refers to an object.” Even those basic birds – in scientific terms, “neurocognitively most conserved” – showed both geometric gaze following and the ability to check back, and that “presupposes the expectation that the other’s gaze is directed at something, which cannot currently be seen. Checking-back is a behavior signifying such an expectation,” as they put it. In an alternative pre-history, we might imagine those early gaze-following dinos continuing to evolve, unmolested by giant asteroids that blotted out the sun. In human children, checking back precedes gaze following, and children show evidence of it by about eight months of age. On the other hand, among birds, the more advanced geometric gaze-following has only been observed in some species, but not only the most conserved or "basic" of them. This might mean a particular species evolved to lose this trait, or that we simply haven’t looked hard enough for its presence in different bird species. Similarly, while among the primates, checking back has only been reported in apes and old world monkeys, there haven’t been very many studies of this in primates, and while one rare such study concluded that new world monkeys — spider monkeys and capuchins — don’t check back, in fact an individual spider monkey was observed checking back in that study, over and over. This could be a case where “absence of evidence doesn’t equal evidence of absence” of this trait that, if found, would suggest some pretty advanced social and cognitive abilities. Built for the job… But up for the task? As well as seeking experimental, observational and genomic evidence of gaze following and visual perspective-taking, a complementary approach is to look at the physical equipment making such abilities possible: that is to say, the eyes, body and brain. Alligators and crocodiles have eyes that are adapted for seeing in air, not water. Their eyes, placed on either side of their head, give them a wide field of view and scary-good peripheral vision. Their ability to adapt to scan the shoreline without moving their heads makes crocodiles, as one headline about a study on the subject put it, “fine-tuned for lurking”. The kind of low-level gaze-following they engage in is mediated by subcortical structures of the brain–those more “primitive” parts also found in mammals and fish. Dolphins can use binocular or monocular vision but typically use monocular, giving them a whopping two hundred degree vista from each eye compared to primates’ limited field of view, using our two forward-facing eyes, of around ninety degrees to each side of the midline, sixty below the point of focus, and fifty above. The dolphins thus don’t need to move their heads as most non-primate mammals must if they want to get a good field of sight — a good thing, because their fused cervical vertebrae make that tricky to do. Basically, where head position and forward eyes is thought to be important for the development of gaze following, in dolphins which use echolocation to recognize objects, it may have evolved in a different way. (Like the dolphins, penguins and ibis, which also have eyes on separate sides of their head, have already been found to show conspecific gaze following.) In the study of Archosaurs, small birds simply had a harder time actually carrying out visual perspective-taking than big birds, like the rhea or the emu: they weren’t tall enough to see what the experimenter was looking at. As a short person, this author can only sympathize. Looking at which living species show evidence of advanced gaze following and which don’t suggests that even the more advanced type, and the ability to check for visual references, evolved back in the time of dinosaurs. This also likely means that some dinosaurs evolved the neurocognitive equipment to make these things possible, and that when we start looking into the genomes of these different groups, we’ll find genetic evidence of exactly how these traits are being controlled and whether the dolphin’s gaze following abilities, for example, occur in a similar way to those of the swallow or its Archosaur dinosaur ancestor. But that doesn’t mean that all dinosaurs exhibited this form of social cognition. Instead, it evolved in some dinosaurs only, probably some time after the Archosaur group, a group that includes both reptiles and birds, divided. This division of the constantly branching evolutionary tree gave rise to the ancestors of today’s crocodiles and alligators in one group, and to the ancestors of bird-like dinosaurs and today’s birds in the other. Tracking convergent evolution through the evolutionary tree is best done with a combination of high-throughput genomic analysis and work that looks at actual animals, whether in museums or in the field, to see how traits are expressed. As genomic analysis becomes cheaper and easier to do (and as extinction takes a brutal toll on existing species), it can be harder to get funding agencies to invest in studying an animal in the wild – studying its phenotype, or how it expresses traits – than to sequence the DNA of hundreds of thousands of individuals. “Phenotypic resources are often more challenging,” Sackton told Salon. He stressed the need for collaboration in his work with molecular and organismal biologists to understand how an organism’s ecology might shape what he sees in its genes, and conversely to understand the relevance of the genomic sequencing he does to its phenotype, the traits we can actually observe, like physiology or behavior. “There’s so many weird things that animals and plants do,” he said. In an alternative pre-history, we might imagine those early gaze-following dinos continuing to evolve, unmolested by giant asteroids that blotted out the sun. Instead of evolution ultimately producing as a dinosaur descendant the clever jackdaw that can follow your gaze to steal your food, we might have a society of empathetic dinosaurs whose early capacity to put themselves in other dinos’ shoes (so to speak) could have led to a complex social world, one in which knowing your dinosaur friend is planning their escape from the dinosaur bar is of great interest. Perhaps in that alternate world a dinosaur is writing up a story about convergent evolution and the experiments being done to better grasp the amazing, gaze-following abilities of those curious creatures, the bipedal, big-brained, highly social Homo genus of primates and their previously unsuspected empathetic abilities – almost like dinosaurs themselves. Read more about evolution

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