What I find less than perfect about my career

Well of course after singing the praises of academia, it was only inevitable I would turn to the areas I do not enjoy quite so much. At the risk of becoming a caricature of myself, I will try not to complain too much, but frankly it is hard. The issue really is the absurdity of it all and the way it is portrayed by those who do not realise the problems and pressures we face. While I am hardly political, it is difficult to swallow the endless platitudes about how important science is and how we must protect academic freedom, and maintain standards when grants are cut, salaries are a joke, competition for jobs is fierce to the point of brutal, and job security is virtually non existent. I may have to revisit some of these ideas later as they genuinely are that important to the problems faced by academics as a whole, but for now I will try to keep it short.

What I love about my job

Anyone who has read more than three or four posts on here will by now have realised that I tend to be a miserable sod and just spend my time complaining. Oddly enough I genuinely have a pretty sunny outlook on most things, but I do get annoyed easily, especially by things that I think can be easily changed (like getting the word dinosaur and pterosaur not mixed up, and no I am *not* revisiting that here). Despite all that, I do genuinely like my job and despite the things that cause a neural aneurism to me almost daily, it is great fun – if I ever had to stopeing an academic I literally have no idea what I would do instead. There are a few biology-based things that appeal, but I know I would be bored of them in a few years, if not a few months, so I am glad that my job genuinely has me excited to go into work most mornings (even if it fades once reality kicks in). Anyway, I thought it would be nice for me to be all fluffy for once and talk about how great my job is, and just so you know it is still me writing this, I’ll follow it up with a post of what is, shall we say, less good.

The anurognathids – a review

Assuming things go to plan (so no chance there then) I’ll soon have to bury myself properly into the (small) world of anurognathids. I’m looking forward to it as they are a truly fascinating group of pterosaurs. Of course every clade no matter how big or small has some unusual trait that will make it interesting to an expert in the field, if only as a quirk – pteranodontids have a great fossil record, azhdarchids are huge, dimorphodontids have their place in history, dsungaripterids have their great skulls and the anurognathids? Well, they have everything.

Analysing palaeobehaviour

With the recent publication of a new paper on pterosaur ecology it seems like a good time to strike up on the vexed topic of determining (or trying to) the palaeobehaviour of many animals. Actually there is not much to say about it that is not covered in some detail elsewhere (there are a few links here, but obviously check out Tet Zoo and Mark Witton’s site) but I can use the opportunity for another wild stab at people who come up with wildly inappropriate statements about palaeobehaviour. One point that gets repeatedly hammered by the authors is the endless statements (well speculations really) made in the past about pterosaur behaviour when not only were they not backed up by the slightest bit of evidence, but also were obviously false and could be shown to be, as it flat contradicted the basic morphology of the animals under study, or the principles being invoked. This happens alot, and not just with pterosaurs.

I understand that when you have described a new taxon or have been working on some functional aspect of an animal, you will want to try and interpret it and put it into context. But that is not a license to write whatever you want, without giving it proper thought and research. It might be a very minor part of the paper, but it should still be treated in a scientific manner. If you have an interesting idea about how an organisms might be acting or what a certain functional model might allow behaviour wise, its relatively simple (especially in the Google Scholar age) to hunt for a few papers on that area in extant taxa for comparison. If the basic principles are funamentally violated by your concept, or the extant organisms practicing it show none of the adaptations your taxon has, it is time to rethink the idea. Sadly, this does not seem to happen as often as you might think. The paper demonstrates this admirably (and Darren comments on it on his blog too) that some ideas just will not die, no matter how much evidence you can provide that rebutts it, or how obviously that concepts flat contradicts our understanding of the funamental biology.

The real problem for me, is that these ideas then get picked up and perpetuated in the literature until they become some kind of common consensus, without any back-up at all. Skimming by pterosaurs is a classic example that it taken apart rather ruthlessly by Witton & Naish. Even before the recent paper refuting skimming in pterosaurs on energetic and mechanical grounds, it should have been pretty obvious that no pterosaur really bears even the slightest resemblance even in gross morphology to extant skimmers. That does not rule it out of course, animals can evolve to do similar things in very different ways on occasion (though the rampant convergence of many groups shows that there is often is only one really good way of doing somehing – look at formicivores) but one would expect at least some of the highly specialised adaptations to appear in pterosaurs as they are going to be under similar pressures and experienceing similar problems, and they are easy enough to look for. So why did no-one check, at any point, and instead just recycled the idea again? And then why did other people not notice that this had not been checked and check it themselves, rather than just repeating the idea? It does all get a bit tiring when you keep seeing these unjustified or supported speculations attached to papers.

There is nothing wrong with concluding a piece of work with ‘I don’t know’, ‘We can’t tell’, ‘There is no obvious analogy for this’ or ‘This unusual feature is hard to interpret’, and it is certainly better than coming up with some unjustified specualtion that is not only transparently incorrect, but will then be recycled itself. It might seem frustrating that 20 or 30 pages of excellent work could end with ‘Don’t know’, but is that really worse than something incorrect? At the very least researchers (and once more, referees and editors) need to tighten up on this and not let unjustified speculation creep through into print. If you have a good idea, check it. The literature is available and some basic comparisons (like skull shape, foot size, neck length, whatever) can form a very simple basis for comparison and allow the elemination of at least a few concepts and the support of some others. It need not be in depth, that is not the point, but it should at least be supported and currently the opposite is far more common that it should be.

This is a modified Mk.1 post, to see the original with comments etc., go here.

The unconsidered fatness of dinosaurs

I am always interested in ways of measuring or estimating the mass of organisms. While estimates are generally given as a range rather than an exact figure (which makes sense of course) the range is generally there to provide for possible errors in the methodology – were the animals good runners so the legs should have a bit more musculature, was the tail a bit longer, were the neural spines a bit longer? But there is also a further component that is rarely considered (or at least not discussed) – how robust (or lets face it, fat) is the animal?

Now I am not going to criticise estimates for not considering fat tyrannosaurs (though John Hutchinson for example does work with ‘gracile’ and ‘robust’ morphs which accounts for the possible variation present), but those working from them (for e.g. mechanical analyses) should give them a little more thought in my opinion. While it is easy to look at a human population and spot, shall we say, some highly robust morphs, that is a result of excess food being available, not just changes in form or build. While at London Zoo, I worked with a pair of female giraffe where one was probably half a meter taller than the other, but a fraction of the girth – the latter (while a guesstimate) was probably 10% heavier despite a difference in height (measured) of around 7%, with the shorter animal being the heavier. At a more familiar level, while discussing mass estimates in Munich, my fellow pterosaur researcher Mark Witton revealed that he weighs just 65 kg, compared to my then (to my shame, and I desperately point out, after a major sports injury that had prevented any real exercise for months) almost 100 kg, despite the fact that we are near identical heights and similar in build (well, broad shouldered). Even at my more normal ‘fit’ weight of about 85 kg there is clearly a big difference between us despite our similar height (and build actually, at least in terms of shoulder width). Mark is simply far more gracile than me for want of a better term, despite an apparently similar osteology. Either of us would probably be considered well within the normal range of humans, (and perhaps for other animals – i.e. about 20% for a given size) but it is really quite dramatic.

Assuming (i.e. not checking) this is normal, even a near perfect estimate that gave T. rex a mass of say 8 tons, means that for a given skeleton, anything from 6.4 – 9 t might be in the normal, let alone extreme range for the species. That is a big range and can have a considerable effect on wider analyses (such as running speed, ecological biomass etc.). Again, it might be difficult if not impossible to include this realistically into mass estimates (you are looking to get a narrow range after all for practical work, not be left with a hugely unworkable range that encompasses every concievable extreme) but it is worth keeping in mind what kind of variation is possible. Yes our hypothetical 8 ton rex might be a perfect estimate for that specimen when it was alive, but it could have been much bigger or smaller. Perhaps a very gracile form was normal, and rexes of that size rarely got above 6.5 t in which case an analysis of their food requirements for example could be severely affected. If the results come out for some ecological analysis for example suggesting that at an average of 8 t, Tyrannosaurs was badly overpopulated compared to the amount of prey, remember that he might not be quite the giant you think…

This is a revised Mk.1. post, to see the original with comments etc., go here.

Boney-fide mounted skeletons

Following on from the chimeras post I thought it was time to finally write something about mounted skeletons. For many, if not all of us, a mounted dinosaur skeleton was our first ‘real’ encounter with palaeontology (if not science as a whole) that went beyond books and TV. Here was something *real*, standing there impassively, a relic of a past that seemed unknowable, yet we were told things with great confidence about how this animals lived and died. How did they know that? How *could* they know that? Could we learn these things too?

Chimeras in palaeontology

I have always been a fan of Roman and especially Greek mythology and especially the mythical monsters. I suppose in a way it is no different to my interest in palaeontology or zoology – all animals (and yes, even plants on occasion) are interesting in a bizarre way. Even human have enough features about them to make them truly ‘bizarre’, it just depends on how you look at things really.

I’d like to make the transition a little more smooth, but I started without thinking it through, and since the title is a bit of a give away, I’ll talk about chimeras now. For those that don’t know the chimera is a beast of Greek mythology which (depending on exactly which tale / translation you are reading) had the body of a lion with a second head of a goat attached behind the lion’s own head, and a snake for a tail. If you are lucky, you might get eagle feet or bat’s wings thrown in for a small surcharge. In other words, it is basically one animal made up of several others, all mixed together. Of which leads me onto fossil chimeras – specimens made up of more than one animal (individuals of a species or multiple species depending on the context), and depending on exactly how they came about and what they are, they can be very handy or a complete nightmare.

The pterosaur – Raeticodactylus filisurensis

There are a few fundamental biases in the fossil record and they can heavily influence what you are looking for. The older something is, the less likely you are to find it – every million years older it gets is another million years for it to be subducted, buried, eroded or destroyed. The smaller something is, the harder it is to find – 50 metre sauropods leave behind big bones that can be seen on the surface from half a mile away, rodent teeth are another matter. The more delicate something is, the rarer it is – it is more vulnerable to destruction before and after fossilisation, and even if you find it, it might be so badly crushed that all the details are lost. Finally, the rarer something was in life, the less likely you are to find it – a species with billions of individuals is more likely to enter the fossil record than one with a few hundred.

It might come as little surprise then to learn that despite intensive searches, and some very productive areas having been swept, Triassic pterosaurs are exceptionally rare. They are small, fragile, old and probably very rare (the group had jus appeared). Most of the few we have are badly crushed and have much of the animal missing.

However, (and this is a damned big ‘however’, with hobnailed boots on, and a large neon sign with ‘HOWEVER’ written on it round it’s neck), that has just changed. Raeticodactylus filisurensis is almost certainly the best preserved, most complete and generally all round excellent Triassic pterosaur known. It is in wonderful condition and tells us an enormous amount about the early days of pterosaurs. To pile glory upon glory, it is also totally bizarre and contains a number of very unusual features that make it unique in a great many ways. It would be going far too far to say it will revolutionise our understanding of the early days of pterosaurs, but it will add a massive chapter to what is currently a very short book.

How many elephants?

I do so love The Onion – for those who have missed it, it’s a satirical newspaper in the US that also has a very good online section. I spotted this recently (see it here) and while it raises a good chuckle as a concept, it does also highlight a point about science communication (yes, *that* again, or even, yes, that *again*).

I appreciate then when reporting these kinds of things (how big some new dinosaur is, how deep a new cave goes or whatever) it is incredibly useful to give people a frame of reference. Just how tall is 13 m? What does 50 tons look like? These are tricky concepts for people who are not used to dealing with things like that, so relating them to a familiar concept or everyday physical object will really help to get the point across.

However, the problem comes from the non-standard units being used. OK, so in the UK at least buses are pretty much uniform, but we are forever getting weights in elephants and heights in stories and these are hardly standard measures! I am looking out of a 7th storey windown into one that is on the tenth floor of the building opposite. Oh. So a putative dinosaur that could stretch to the 10th floor could be horrifying visitors in the hotel opposite, or I would be staring at the middle of its neck while it savaged (or not) people about 8 or 10 metres above me. Hmmm. And elephants. Adult female Indian elephants weight about half that of big African bulls. So if this dinosaur weighted the same as 30 elepahnts – which? I could double or halve its weight at a stroke….

Now I know this might seem pedantic (how unlike me), but this does seem to undercut the point of the comparison. The idea is to give people a frame of reference, but instead all it does is add ambiguity. Thirty metres is thirty metres whether Joe Public gets it or not, 10 storeys is not an SI unit. Ok, so it is also unreasonable to ask the press to say “weighed as much a 7 adult bull African elephants” instead of “weighed as much a 7 elephants”, as they just won’t do it, but they could at least find a better comparison. The Times is expecially good at this, using buses, football pitches (which while non standard, vary only a little in length / width) or well known buildings and landmarks like Nelson’s column, so it is certainly possible.

It is handy to get people to appreciate some of the numbers that science throws up, not everyone is au fait with light years, millions of years, tons, kph and the rest, either as absolutes or just concepts. Finding a way of expressing that is useful, it makes science more accessible. But it tends to be at the expense of actually communcating the figures in the first place. What’s the point of trying to show the public what ’30 m’ means if you use a highly variable reference point like the height of a house that leaves people with a frame of reference that could be twice the intended number?

This is a revised Mk.1 post, to see the original with comments etc., go here.

What’s wrong with pterosaurs? – A top 10

Unsurprisingly, the poor life reconstructions and restorations of dinosaurs get a lot of attention – I certainly intend to get my mileage out of them in the future. But pterosaurs suffer just as much, if not far more.

Let’s face it, despite all those minor niggling details that we like to get upset about (the wrong orientation of tails spines in Stegosaurs, spinosaur claw shapes and rearing brachiosaurs) these are actually in the main, pretty minor points. We no longer have to deal with 1930’s style ‘kangaroo’ T. rexes, tail dragging sauropods and ‘two brained’ Stegosaurus – well, less than we used to anyway. Both the public and the scientists, artists, journalists and associated workers have adapted to the modern way of seeing dinosaurs and discrepancies are pretty minor.

But take a look at a pterosaur restored to live and in some ways we might as well be back in the 1850s! Some of them are incredible. Woefully bad. But really it’s just a function of popularity. Dinosaurs are inherently interesting and have a ‘Wow!’ factor that means new discoveries get public attention – find any crappy bit of dinosaur bone and you are guaranteed a spot in the press provided you can spin it well enough. Discover something truly incredible, new, exciting that updates, confirms, or rejects some major part of pterosaur palaeontology and you will be lucky to get ‘New flying dinosaur find’ as your headline. Great. So while the public perception of dinosaurs has changed with time and new discoveries, that of pterosaurs has not. In fact it hasn’t changed to the point that I know of other palaeontologists (who frankly should know better) who still think pterosaurs are pretty much dull brown, leathery gliders and limited to Pteranodon and perhaps Rhamphorhynchus in terms of diversity. Do they really think that we have learned nothing in the last 50 odd years?

The importance of science communication

I am really hot on science communication, obviously. In addition to Dino Base (moderator, general discusser and blogger) and Ask A Biologist (admin and overlord) I am working on another new site (details will be announced at the right time). When I can, I contribute to other forums, blogs and send off the odd article to some of the popular dino and palaeo magazines, and while back in the UK I would go out of my way to go along to schools and talk about dinosaurs and zoos and conservation etc. to try and engage kids a bit more beyond looking down a microscope occasioanlly. With a few obvious exceptions (some bloggers just never stop – like the phenomenal PZ Myers) I probably do more than probably 99% of scientists. And for me, that is actually a big problem.

Why palaeontology needs all the World’s research funding

I do like the odd thought experiment and this is one that cropped up in my mind a while back and I think is worth expounding on. It’s a joke, of course, but the underlying point is both important and true so hopefully it will be illustrative.

So, my contention: all of the World’s money for research should be direct to palaeontology – chemistry, medicine, physics, biochemistry, biology, geology, engineering, the arts, the lot. All of it. Every penny, cent, yen, bhat, and franc. But more specifically, it should go to funding prospecting, excavation and curation.

How can I possibly justify this? Well, hopefully quite easily. The simple fact is that tomorrow there will still be planets to discover, sub-atomic particles to analyses, proteins to sequence, new organic compounds to test, new beds of rock to date, new oil deposits to find, new engines to design, new books to be written and more. But, and it is one hell of a big but. By tomorrow a few hundred or even a few thousand, fossils will be gone forever from the Earth. Built over by roads, used as building foundations, stolen by collectors, eroded from cliffs and more. They will never come back. The only single record of that one organism is lost for all time. And in many cases, we must, pretty much by definition, be losing the only record of species, genera, families, classes, orders, probably even whole *phyla* are being erased from the fossil record and thus Earth’s history. Huge and important parts of the history of this planet are gone forever.

How can we stop this? Dig them up! Go and find them and dig them up. The physicists can look for the Higgs-Boson next year. They don’t need that hundred billion dollar particle accelerator this year. Another probe to Mars? After the last five? For the money from those two projects alone we can dig up tens of thousands of *tons* of fossils. We just need to find them and get them out of the ground. Once we have got them, we have all the time in the world to study them, but right now they are being lost. So there you go. For every fossil that exists on this planet right now, there is a finite time in which it can be collected before it is eroded, buried or destroyed. Since we can’t know which that will happen to and when, we need to get hold of them all now.

So there you have it. Give us the money. For tens of thousands of fossils, this is their one and only chance to be considered as part of the history of our planet. The very history of life is being eroded by the day, by the minute and yet most of us (understandably, perhaps) spend our time in the office, not in the field. What remains undiscovered and soon to be lost? The next Jehol? The next Morrison? The next Burgess? Act now, and not only will we lose this forever, we won’t even know it was lost.

Ok, so as I said this is a deliberate exaggeration and a thought experiment – I can’t really suggest that we should stop urgent research into HIV, cancer, renewable energy and so on, but there is a serious point to be made here. We are losing fossils constantly through all kinds of actions, and while there is a limit to how many Jurassic brachiopods we need in the World’s palaeontological collections, there are doubtless huge things we are missing. Take a look at the Solnhofen, with pretty intense collecting (and including the surrounding formations) we have found two dinosaurs and ten specimens of Archaeopteryx. What else might lie there? It is the right time and conditions that there could be some more important clues to the origins of birds. Thousands of critical specimens are already in private hands and may never see the light of day, what else are we missing? Those places that are not exposed are not being checked and many quarries are being mined for industrial purposes – what bird and dinosaur specimens are being fed through bulldozers on a daily basis? Not to mention plants, insects, fish, lizards, crocodiles, squid and more. It is a genuine and unrecoverable loss.

There seems to me to be a mindset with some people that since these things are made of rock they will last forever, but that is simply not the case. I have seen footprints erode pretty much before my eyes in Bolivia, Fodonyx the new rhynchosaur skull I recently described had the lower jaws almost eroded away. If someone had not collected it by chance in a few weeks there would probably have been nothing left. There are so many examples of only half a dinosaur being found in a hillside because the rest has already been eroded away it is barely worth a mention. Researchers have whole skeletons jacketed in the filed that they cannot remove through lack of funding and it is just a matter of time till the elements get to them now that they are exposed. In a very real sense, this is a race of funding versus geological time and meteorology and we are on the wrong end of it.

This is a modified Mk.1. post, to see the original plus comments etc., go here.