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Brains, behaviour, and evolution.

Zen Faulkes
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  • September 9, 2010
  • 08:00 AM
  • 1,842 views

Eating your own brain: Ocean of Pseudoscience repost

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

Southern Fried Scientist decided to feature a week of surreal science related to the oceans. I take this opportunity to be a lazy blogger and repost this piece (slightly rewritten) from May 2008.

Adult sea squirts (also known as tunicates or ascidians) are sessile animals. As adults, they really don't move. But if anyone has heard about sea squirts, they’ve probably hear that little sea squirts start life as smart little tadpoles, searching this way and that for a place to land. Once they’ve found the place where they'll spend the rest of their lives, they go through a metamorphosis into the immobile adult.

But as they have no further need of their brain, they eat it.

The punchline is, “It’s rather like getting tenure.”

The facts should never get in the way of a great joke, but the truth is more complicated. The swimming tadpoles are only about a millimeter long, and there are only a few hundred neurons in the entire tadpole (Meinertzhagen and Okamura 2001), of which the “brain” is only a small part. Tadpoles have miniaturized brains.

Sea squirt larvae do undergo metamorphosis into a adult with a small brains, but it's not the vestigial little thing that the “eat your own brain” story suggests. “In fact, adult ascidians have perfectly good brains, an order of magnitude larger than those of their larvae, and their behaviour is as finely adapted to sessility as that of the larvae to motility” (Mackie and Burighel, 2005).

We’ve learned a lot about how brains work from invertebrates, and their complexity is often underrated.

References

Mackie GO, Burighel P. 2005. The nervous system in adult tunicates: current research directions. Canadian Journal of Zoology 83(1): 151-183. DOI: 10.1139/z04-177

Meinertzhagen IA, Okamura Y. 2001. The larval ascidian nervous system: the chordate brain from its small beginnings Trends in Neurosciences 24(7). 401-410. DOI: 10.1016/S0166-2236(00)01851-8... Read more »

  • June 11, 2009
  • 10:43 AM
  • 1,357 views

Eating your own offspring

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

“Eating your own young” is usually used figuratively, referring to giving up on an idea or some such. But some animals literally do this. Many people find this idea counter intuitive – indeed, repugnant. Why animals would do this is a fairly frequently asked question for behavioural biologists.So a paper with the title, “Should you eat your offspring before someone else does?” by Chin-Baarstad and colleagues is nigh irresistible.From a biological point of view, there are several reasons why a parent might eat its own eggs or young, and this new paper does an good job of summarizing the various theories behind cannibalism. In short, it takes time and energy to look after offspring, and sometimes, it may be better for an animal to cut its losses and try to breed again rather than continuing to pour “money down the drain,” so to speak. Eating offspring that are liable to fail provides a way of partly recouping the energy investment.The authors studied sand gobies, where males care for eggs. They wanted to test if the mere threat of having a clutch preyed upon by another species would increase the likelihood of a male eating its offspring. They lay out the experiment concisely:We exposed parental males to three levels of simulated threat from a known sand goby egg predator (the brown shrimp Crangon crangon): (1) no egg predator, (2) only visual cues from an egg predator and (3) visual and chemical cues from an egg predator. We hypothesized that filial cannibalism would increase when the shrimp was present, particularly when both chemical and visual cues from the shrimp were present, as these cues probably represent a greater threat of egg predation.They placed two female gobies in with one male, and allowed them to spawn. the authors note that females usually depart after laying eggs in the wild, so the females were removed from the tank after spawning. The shrimp predator could not actually eat the eggs. It was held either in a solid bottle or a bottle with holes, which allowed the goby to both see and smell the shrimp.They find that there is always a risk of the goby eating the entire clutch (about 30% of the time), even if there are no shrimp predators or cues from them. A visual cue alone is no different from no predator (still about 30%), but the actual presence of the shrimp predator significantly raises the chance of whole clutch cannibalism (to about 50%). Partial clutch cannibalism wasn’t affected by the presence of the shrimp predator at all, which suggests that eating all of your young is a different proposition than eating just some of your young.There are also various correlations between the size of the gobies and the likelihood of cannibalism. Small males are more likely to cannibalize the entire clutch. Males were more likely to eat some eggs when females that laid them were in good condition, which is again initially paradoxical, as you might expect those to be high quality eggs that you would want to survive. The authors do say that “egg survival is density dependent,” so this may be a factor: the males may be lowering the density to have a high proportion of successful eggs.For me, a major unanswered question which is why does there seem to a a certain baseline probability of cannibalism, even with no predators? The fish are apparently not long lived, so a one in three chance of the male chucking it and eating an entire clutch seems rather high.Before I go, one major rant against this paper. Nowhere in this paper is a species name given for the sand goby being studied. This is not cool. I will guess, based on a Google Search, that it is Pomatoschistus minutus (pictured, from this site), but Wolfram Alpha gives an estimate of 200 species in the Gobiidae family. How many of them might qualify as a “sand goby”?ReferenceChin-Baarstad, A., Klug, H., & Lindström, K. (2009). Should you eat your offspring before someone else does? Effect of an egg predator on filial cannibalism in the sand goby Animal Behaviour DOI: 10.1016/j.anbehav.2009.04.022... Read more »

  • February 18, 2009
  • 08:10 AM
  • 1,335 views

Do male crickets shorten the lives of female crickets?

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

One of the deep insights from evolutionary thinking in the fields of ethology, animal behaviour, behavioural ecology, and sociobiology is that males and females often have distinctly different best interests when in comes to reproduction. Now, it's very easy to made wild extrapolations about this, particularly regarding humans, but there are many examples of the general principle. Of course, when you're looking at any individual case, the devil is always in the details.This paper, by Green and Tregenza, looks at whether male crickets (Gryllus bimiculatus; sometimes known as "bimac" in cricket labs) manipulate female crickets by transferring special seminal proteins along with sperm when the copulate. The underlying idea is that it is in the best interest of the male for the female not to mate with other males, because this would cut into the first male's reproductive success. Thus, a male that can change a female's behaviour or attractiveness or what have you so that she is less likely to mate would have an evolutionary advantage.Green and Tregenza test this idea by taking spermatophores from several male crickets and making a liquid that they injected into the females. As a control, they injected a different group of females using a physiological saline (water and a few salts that are similar to that inside the cricket). One of the potential shortcomings of this study is that these were not delivered into the reproductive tract, which obviously would be the case with actual mating, but into the abdomen directly. On the one hand, this is clearly not a natural situation. On the other hand, it does help whether any effects are due to the physical act of mating rather than actual chemical signals.The authors find that there are two main effects. Females injected with the mix of seminal proteins walk forward less, and they have shorter lives. The females in both conditions lay about the same number of eggs. Green and Tregenza also looked at other factors, like responses to male song, but found no significant differences. From this, they conclude that the seminal proteins are having manipulative effects on the females.The discussion does talk about the suggestion that the injection of chemicals is causing a general immune response, but they downplay this, saying that they would have expected to see a greater decline in female's orientation if there was a general immune response. But it seems a fairly frail argument. This experiment could have made its case much more strongly by adding one more control group.Imagine that you have the hypothesis that the secret ingredient in a particular cola flavoured soft drink -- let's call that secret ingredient, say, 7X -- causes burping. So you give one group of people glasses of water to drink, and one group the one brand of soft drink. The latter burps more. You thus conclude that 7X causes burping, right? Not so fast!A soft drink is a complex concoction of carbonation, sugars, and flavourings. Water is not. What you would really want as a control is a soft drink with everything but 7X, either instead of, or in addition to, water.In this paper, a complex protein mixture is being compared to a physiological saline. The implication is that the effects are due to particular proteins generated by the males that function to manipulate the females. But it may be that this is simply an effect of injecting a complex mixture of proteins, and there is no protein specific to males that is having this effect. A second control containing proteins unrelated to crickets, like bovine serum albumin (BSA), would help to sort this out this possibility. Or, use seminal proteins from a distantly related cricket species. If this was really a case of sexual manipulation, you would predict that only the proteins from the same species would have a significant effect.ReferenceKelly Green, Tom Tregenza (2009). The influence of male ejaculates on female mate search behaviour, oviposition and longevity in crickets Animal Behaviour DOI: 10.1016/j.anbehav.2008.12.017... Read more »

  • April 28, 2009
  • 12:50 PM
  • 1,316 views

Is the mimic octopus misnamed?

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

The mimic octopus has star power. It’s not the largest octopus, nor the most colourful, but it makes for the best television.Star power lets you do things that others don’t get to do. Here, it allowed Roger Hanlon and colleagues publish... a natural history paper. Despite Nobel laureate Niko Tinbergen’s warning that contempt for observation is a lethal trait for any science, basic observational papers of natural history are unusual. There are a few exceptions, particularly for behaviours that are very rare and have not been observed before.In 2001, Mark Norman and colleagues published a paper describing a species of octopus that was undescribed, but has since been named Thaumoctopus mimicus. The clip below is a good introduction of the behaviours that Norman and colleagues saw, and how they interpreted it. Norman and colleagues suggested that this octopus imitates other species, including flounders, lionfish, sea snakes, and possibly anemones and jellyfish.The issue is that “mimicry” implies a whole heck of a lot more than just “resemblance.” “Mimicry” implies a function; that one species is the “original” and another “wannabe” species has “copied” it – usually over evolutionary time – and that the “wannabe” gains advantages from looking like the original. But how do you test whether similarity is mimicry or mere resemblance?In this paper, Hanlon and colleagues’s aim is to gather evidence as to whether mimicry is actually going on. They report on what they saw during many hours of videorecording these octopuses in their natural habitat. They don’t do any experiments or manipulations. Perhaps because of this, there is a lot of interpretation and subjectivity in this paper (slightly ironic for a paper that complains that the case for mimicry has been “overrated”). Hanlon and colleagues agree that the octopuses are doing some mimicking, particularly flounder. In this clip below (not by the authors), you can see the octopus and the fish it is supposed to be mimicking.The main quantitative finding in this paper is that octopuses are staying still and camouflaging themselves immediately before and after flounder-like swimming. Hanlon and colleagues argue that moving in a flounder-like manner is a way for octopuses to move quickly across a bare, sandy landscape without being detected as an octopus. They also show that the duration of a swimming burst by the octopuses is similar in length to a swimming burst by the flounders – both 6 seconds on average – which certainly is in line with mimicry.Yet the case for mimicry is still weak.For instance, the authors note that these octopuses also swim in a more typical octopus fashion: jetting with the rear of the mantle (“head”) going first. But there is no comparison of “regular” swimming with flounder-like swimming, which would be useful. A major prediction of true mimicry would be that the octopuses’ behaviour should be sensitive to context. For instance, one might predict that “regular” swimming occurs mainly as an escape response triggered by some external stimuli, whereas flounder-like swimming occurs more during spontaneous foraging.Next, the authors note that when swimming like a flounder, the mimic octopus often shows a colouration that is not very founder-like! The authors suggest that this species might actually be a “poor mimic,” and that another local unnamed octopus, the “blandopus,” looks more like the local flounders when it swims.Further, surprisingly little is know about the local flounders. Even what species are present is unclear. This makes it difficult to know what advantage an octopus might gain from mimicking it. Are the flounders poisonous or distasteful?Although all of this is cast in the context of predator avoidance, Hanlon and company recorded not one instance of anything killing an octopus in 189 hours of videotaped recordings. They did record aggressive interactions with fish and one with a stomatopod, and noted some octopuses were missing bits of their arms, however, so clearly not all is rosy for the octopuses in this habitat.Hanlon and colleagues mention that they were not allowed to do any collection during this study. They might have been unable to carry out simple field experiments, too. If someone was able to carry out field experiments, however, they might be able to, say, present octopuses with models of potential predators. In the first video above, it is suggested that the mimic octopuses imitate sea snakes to deter potential fish predators. If so, it should be possible to elicit that specific response experimentally in response to fish but not other threats.Another simple field experiment could be present some models to potential predators of octopuses swimming in “regular” mode versus those in “flounder” mode. Again, if true mimicry is going on, there should be more investigations or attacks of models by predators towards models in “regular” mode.Clearly, this is a huge amount of research still to do on these wonderful animals.ReferencesROGER T. HANLON, LOU-ANNE CONROY, JOHN W. FORSYTHE (2008). Mimicry and foraging behaviour of two tropical sand-flat octopus species off North Sulawesi, Indonesia Biological Journal of the Linnean Society, 93 (1), 23-38 DOI: 10.1111/j.1095-8312.2007.00948.xNorman MD, Finn J, Treganza T. 2001. Dynamic mimicry in an Indo-Malayan octopus. Proc. R. Soc. Lond. B 268: 1755-1758. doi: 10.1098/rspb.2001.1708... Read more »

  • July 1, 2009
  • 08:00 AM
  • 1,247 views

Predictability is a weakness: Snakes catch stereotyped swimmers

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

I’ve published a few papers on neurons involved in escape responses in crustaceans. In my recent review on crustacean escape responses, I noted:Giant neurons and electrical synapses provide for short latency, but stereotyped responses. The non-giant circuit for repetitive tailflipping provides crayfish with flexibility and the potential for sustained escape.I recall giving a lecture some years ago about crayfish escape responses, I remember trying to emphasize the importance of the non-giant neurons, saying to the students something like, “If you relied on just the giant neurons, which do the same things at every time, don’t you think that at some point, a predator would figure out, ‘If I attack here, the prey is going to end up here’?”Turns out at least one predator has done just that – it’s just catching fish instead of crayfish.Fish escape responses, like those of crayfish, are fast and controlled by a well-described set of neurons. The biggest neurons, the Mauthner cells, cause a very stereotyped behaviour when activated alone. If you play a loud sound to the fish’s right side, the Mauthner neuron triggers and sends a signal over to the fish’s left side, contracting muscles and causing the fish to turn away from the sound. (There are also sets of smaller neurons that allow for the fish’s escape to vary somewhat, but don't matter a lot for the purposes of this story, since they usually don’t change the overall right or left direction the fish turns; Foreman and Eaton, 1993).Somehow, tentacled snakes (Erpeton tentaculatum) have been able to take advantage of this predictable turn away from a loud sound. Somehow, the snake manages to move the trunk of their body just enough to make a vibration big enough to set off the fish’s escape response. This is one of the things I find most fascinating about this: the movement the snake makes is tiny! And it’s very surprising that this subtle little fast bend of the body is enough to set off an escape response. It’s a testament to the highly sensitive sensory systems of the fish.The snake’s normal hunting position is a sort of J-shaped posture, so the head is roughly in the vicinity that the “escaping” (but actually probably doomed) fish will turn to. The snake isn’t as fast as the fish, so the snake has to start its strike in anticipation of the fish’s response and it aims for where it expects the fish to be after the fish makes its escape. The fish’s escpae behaviour isn’t completely stereotyped, though, and can be modulated by sensory input (Eaton and Emberley 1991). When the fish flips left instead of when it should flip “right,” it usually gets away.Although Catania ends by saying this could be learned or innate (i.e., evolved), I’m guessing this behaviour is innate. It seems too specific to be learned afresh each generation, and that four snakes tested showed the behaviour would also seem to suggest a species specific evolved behaviour.The article is open access, and has lot of supplemental video.Hat tip to this article, which does a great job of summarizing the research and has a video compilation.ReferencesCatania, K. (2009). Tentacled snakes turn C-starts to their advantage and predict future prey behavior Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences DOI: 10.1073/pnas.0905183106Eaton RC, Emberley DS. 1991. How stimulus direction determines the trajectory of the Mauthner-initiated escape response in a teleost fish. J. Exp. Biol. 161(1): 469-487.Foreman MB, Eaton RC. 1993. The direction change concept for reticulospinal control of goldfish escape. J. Neurosci. 13: 4101-4114.... Read more »

  • July 17, 2009
  • 08:00 AM
  • 1,188 views

The Scincus that swims through sand like a snake

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

In old Disney comics, Scrooge McDuck would often be shown swimming in his money bin, diving through the coins like an exuberant dolphin. Leading many young minds to wonder, “How does he do that?” Coins don’t move like water; they’re arguably closer to something like dry sand.A new paper shows that one lizard may not be able to get through McDuck’s nine cubic acres of money, but it comes a lot closer than anything else we know about so far. Scincus scincus is a cute little lizard a few winches long, whose common name, “sandfish,” tells you a lot about its behaviour. These lizards dive through sand like Unca Scrooge dives through silver dollars. Previously, people had suspected they paddled though the sand using their legs, much like some fish might use their pectoral fins in addition to their trunk. The problem with testing an hypothesis like this is that sand has this irritating property of being opaque – a problem I had significant personal experience with, I might add. I solved it using wires and recording from muscles.Maladen and colleagues went to high speed X-ray videography. I suspect that they probably spent a long time trying to find a combination of materials with the right combination of transparencies to X-rays, but they did it. And they found that the sandfish might better be described as a sand eel. The swimming that these lizards did (rather fast, about 10 cm per second) was entirely driven by the trunk. The legs were simply held in position and didn’t play a part after the animal got under the sand. There are some fantastic movies of this in the supplemental material.From here, the paper looks into the physics of the situation. To be entirely honest, it’s fairly difficult stuff for me. When they write:It is remarkable that η does not change significantlyfor different φ...I have to take their word for the remarkable nature of those Greek letters. I am rather hoping that some physics blogger out there can walk through the granular materials math in this paper.Maladen and company end by noting that they have helped to show how organisms can exploit the alternately solid-like and fluid-like properties of sand to move through it. And this is indeed a substantial achievement, but what if you turn that around? If animals can do this, why haven’t more done so? To the best of my knowledge, no animals besides other lizards swim through sand like sandfish do. And I doubt that this is due to visibility problems; I think it is just that digging organisms are relatively rare.There is so much nice stuff in this paper that I might forgive them for citing a sand crab digging paper from the 1970s instead of more recent and more detailed articles.ReferenceRyan D. Maladen, Yang Ding, Chen Li, & Daniel I. Goldman (2009). Undulatory Swimming in Sand: Subsurface Locomotion of the Sandfish Lizard Science, 325 (5938), 314-318 DOI: 10.1126/science.1172490Sandfish photo by user thew...g's on Flickr. Used under Creative Commons license.... Read more »

  • November 22, 2007
  • 03:37 PM
  • 1,174 views

Classic graphics #5: Brainbow

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

Livet and colleagues published a paper in Nature that has arguably the most beautiful pictures of neurons ever taken. And that's a tall order, because most neurons are really beautiful in their own right, particularly when you get a good stain, and you're really able to see their structure in detail under a microscope. But these leave you open mouthed, gaping "The colours, man, check out the colouuuuurs..." like a hippie on an LSD trip in the Summer of Love.... Read more »

  • October 9, 2009
  • 07:00 AM
  • 1,103 views

Face it: Being a scientist can really suck

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

Why don't more students enter science careers?

Maybe because the job sucks?

There’s a refreshingly honest quote in this blog post, to which I’ve added some emphasis:

“People were questioning why there weren’t more women in science, and I had to point out that we are not going to be banging down the doors to enter a profession that just sounds so awful,” said Wu, who just completed her doctorate at the Pratt School of Engineering at Duke.


The article goes on to talk about the importance of peers, time management, and stereotype threat, all the while ignoring the elephant in the room:

Science careers don’t have a lot going for them.

We have this weird Jekyll and Hyde relationship with young scientists. We tell them over and over that we want more people to enter technical careers. But then we sip the potion, and unleash upon them academic hazing rituals that go on for over a decade.... Read more »

  • July 23, 2009
  • 07:00 AM
  • 1,098 views

How did bats get underfoot?

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

You think snakes on a plane are crazy? Bats! On the ground!

Before humans arrived on New Zealand, the only mammals living there were bat species. One of only two remaining native Kiwi mammals is Mystacina tuberculata, the lesser short-tailed bat.

This bat’s second claim to fame is that it walks. Only one other bat, the vampire bat, does this, and vampire bats don’t spend anywhere near the same amount of time on the ground as M. tuberculata does. That there are no other land mammals in New Zealand has been suggested as a reason that these bats are such ground huggers. This was suggested by analogy with birds, which are often flightless on islands that don’t have large predators. Indeed, New Zealand provides an example here with the kakapo, which Douglas Adams famously described as the world’s largest and least able to fly parrot.... Read more »

  • February 13, 2009
  • 12:00 AM
  • 1,094 views

Muscle innervation is not a connectome

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

Since the word "genome" entered the lexicon, mainly on the heels of the Human Genome Project, there has been no shortage of people trying to cash in on the idea of "-omes." The idea is that an "-ome" is a complete catalogue of all... something. So we have budding fields like proteomics (all the proteins in an organism), and, in my own field, neuromics (all the neurons in an organism) and now, connectomics (all the neural connections in an organism).Lu and colleagues purport to have a connectome. That's what the title says, after all. This is, unfortunately, misleading. This is innervation of one muscle. It's detailed, yes, but it's no more a "connectome" than sequencing one gene is a "genome." I suppose, though, that "Motor innervation patterns of the interscutularis muscle" is less likely to land you a spot in a high-profile journal than a title using, "connectome."Putting my irritation with the unwarranted title aside... what's to learn here?The authors used a genetically modified mouse that expressed a fluorescent protein in all its motor neurons. Then, they used confocal microscopy techniques to reconstruct the paths of multiple motor neurons leading to a small muscle in the head. Neither of these techniques are particularly groundbreaking in principle, but there's no doubt that achieving this level of high detail would have required a lot of patience. From there, there's lots of math and models, but it boils down just to looking closely at what they saw.The authors summarize their main findings as these.The more muscle fibres a neuron innervates, the bigger the twitch. Although this is presented as a conclusion, the authors didn't actually measure twitch generated by muscles in this paper, so there is still more physiology.The bigger the neuron, the more muscle fibres it innervates. Not a huge surprise, considering that there will be more demands to create and transport chemicals to the tips of the nerves if there are more synapse.Every motor neuron follows its own unique path, and it's often a path loaded with detours. This speaks to the development of muscle innervation being quite loosely controlled. Again, no big surprises, as there'd been a reasonable amount of evidence showing that axon guidance is something that tracks (say) chemical gradients, rather than any sort of precise pathfinding or lock and key mechanism.Perhaps surprisingly, it's probably going to take a long time before these methods are successfully applied to many invertebrate species, particularly arthropods. Although invertebrates have fewer neurons, the way they connect to muscles is much more complicated.... Read more »

Ju Lu, Juan Carlos Tapia, Olivia L. White, & Jeff W. Lichtman. (2009) The Interscutularis Muscle Connectome. PLoS Biology, 7(2). DOI: 10.1371/journal.pbio.1000032  

  • June 24, 2009
  • 03:01 PM
  • 1,086 views

Crickets fly away from bats, but do they run away, too?

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

To get a sense of how crickets might feel about bats, you’d probably have to sit next to a lion cage at the zoo while the lions are roaring. You’re faced with an animal hugely larger than you that can kill you in a flash.Not surprisingly, crickets try to escape from that situation. Escape responses are a favourite behaviour for neuroethologists to tackle, because the behaviour is usually simple and the neurons are usually large. In brief, a series of paper from several labs have shown that flying crickets will turn away from ultrasound, which is the sort of sound that bats use to echolocate and pick off prey.Although the nature shows usually depict bats catching insects while both are in flight, some bats specialize in picking insects off while they’re on a stationary surface. This is called gleaning. Gleaning bats also use ultrasound when they’re feeding, which we know crickets can detect.But does an escape response to ultrasound when crickets are flying imply that they also have an escape response triggered by ultrasound when they are sitting?Surprisingly, the answer seems to be no.ter Hofstede and colleagues tested male and female crickets’ (Teleogryllus oceanicus) responses separately. The males sing, so the authors presented ultrasound from a bat species (Nictophilus geoffroyi, pictured) found in the cricket’s home range, while males were singing. As I’ve written about recently, singing for male crickets is great for attracting mates, but it can also be used by bats and parasitoids to find crickets. So it would be logical to think that if you hear sounds made by an approaching predator, you’d have a nice tall glass of, “Shut the heck up.”None of the males stopped singing, even when the sound was quite loud (82 decibels sound pressure level; roughly alarm clock or busy city street loud). The males did stop singing to a loud ultrasound dog whistle, however.The authors also tested to see if the females would stop walking when they were presented with a bat sound. The analysis here is tricky, because females tend to pause when walking anyway, but the females didn’t seem to stop more when bat sounds were presented.After they tested each cricket for behaviour, they also recorded from one of the key neurons that responds to bat ultrasound, with the undramatic name of ascending neuron 2 (AN2). They found that the AN2 neuron would indeed generate action potentials in response to the bat ultrasound.So if the crickets can detect the sound of a predator, and take evasive action when flying why do they bumble along doing whatever they’re doing on the ground? The authors suggest that gleaning bats may not be a significant enough predator to have caused escape responses to be selected in the wild.Another possibility, however, is that AN2 is multi-functional. Although it fires in response to ultrasound, it also spikes in response to lower frequencies, like cricket calling song. The authors raise the possibility that when crickets are on the ground, AN2 is “preoccupied” by listening for other crickets, and can’t trigger any sort of evasive response. To test this hypothesis, someone will have to go back and do some experiments where AN2 is recorded an actively behaving animal (which can be done), rather than in recording when the animal is restrained and partially dissected.Referenceter Hofstede, H., Killow, J., & Fullard, J. (2009). Gleaning bat echolocation calls do not elicit antipredator behaviour in the Pacific field cricket, Teleogryllus oceanicus (Orthoptera: Gryllidae) Journal of Comparative Physiology A DOI: 10.1007/s00359-009-0454-3... Read more »

  • September 14, 2009
  • 08:00 AM
  • 1,081 views

Review: Don’t Be Such a Scientist

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

Let me try to apply one of the suggestions in Don’t Be Such a Scientist and practice a little concision:I love this book. I devoured it in one evening.Whew. Now, I can go back to my normal science mode.Randy Olson has been working in Hollywood for over a decade, but he’s still one of us. He gets what being an academic scientist does to you: you become literal, critical, and absolutely focused on destroying error – and it never goes away. He gets us. But he also gets how other people see us, and Olson has a message for us, his former colleagues: For other people, it’s not just about the data, guys.Olson isn’t the first person to say that persuading non-scientists about the truth of things requires more persuasion than just evidence. This has not been a popular message, particularly among a lot of my fellow science bloggers.* These kinds of messages get characterized as weak-kneed capitulation, compromising the truth.For that reason, Olson will probably face his strongest criticism for suggesting that scientists not be unlikeable. It sounds a lot like admonitions of other writers never to offend, which has generated a growling response that there are some people that we scientists want to offend: the people who deal out lies, errors, and untruths.Olson has not cracked that hard problem: how to communicate with those nice people who are just like you and me, except for a few beliefs that are divorced from reality. You know the ones: the creationists, the climate change deniers, the anti-vaccine campaigners, the moon landing conspiracy theorists, the birthers, and so on. Olson’s tips and suggestions won’t matter when dealing with those people, but that’s not Olson’s book. It’s a book that somebody needs to write – badly – but Olson’s approach shouldn’t be dismissed because of that. He’s pointing out that when you launch a full out assault on your enemies, you risk inflicting a lot of casualties on people who might have been on side.Part of what convinced that Olson is on the right track were uncomfortable moments reading this book when you recognize yourself, and think, “Oh, damn, he’s right.”For instance, Olson talks about how being an academic means being critical. We academics forget that even honest and correct criticism can be very deflating.Have you ever walked out of a movie that you loved, and you’re replaying some of those favourite moments and lines in your head... and one of the people you’re with points out something that’s completely illogical? Do you happily respond to that honest and correct criticism, “Wow, I’m so glad you pointed that out!” If so, you’re a better person than me, because my response was an irritated, “That’s not the point.” **And yet, we scientists are routinely praised for pointing out those annoying little untruths. On the very day I received my copy of Olson’s book, one of my blog posts was picked as an editor’s choice specifically because it was critical.On that note, I don’t think it’s any accident that the words highlighted in the blurbs on the back are the ones that say how critical this book is. After all, this book is aimed at scientists and academics, so if you want their respect, you’ve got to show them that you’re criticizing! In fact, the tone here is very amiable and affable. The most critical sections of the book seem more exasperated than stinging.On a similar note, Olson also talks about how scientists are extremely literal. Here again, you don’t have to look further than recent stuff on the blogosphere. The new film Creation is starting to get reviews, and here’s Eugenie Scott’s review on Panda’s Thumb.As someone with a stake in how the public understands evolution and it’s most famous proponent, the bottom line for me was that the science be presented accurately. The second was that the story of Darwin’s life be presented accurately.Her bottom line is not whether the movie has a good story, is emotionally powerful, well acted, or any of the other dozens of things that most people look for in a movie. Her bottom line is accuracy. Such a scientist. For many, looking for that first is missing the point of why they watch a movie.Finally, Olson has something in common with Adam Savage. It’s not just that they do science-y stuff on film. MythBusters host Savage was quoted as saying recently:I realized that my humiliation and good TV go hand in hand.Olson is not afraid to make a point at his own expense. Don’t Be Such a Scientist starts with Olson on the receiving end of a truly terrifying bawling out by an acting teacher. Those four pages alone are near worth the price of admission, but it’s not the lowest or most embarrassing moment for Olson in the book. This is self deprecation taken to a new high, and it’s an illustration of one of Olson’s key tactics for communication: don’t “rise above,” as he puts it. In other words, don’t be high and mighty. Audiences tend not to like such people.*** I’ve tried to avoid righteous indignation on this blog, there are occasions where I bet someone reading it thought, “Boy, is he full of himself.”There is more about this book that I’d like to comment on and explore, but I’ll leave them for later. I’m teaching a class on biological writing this semester, and I hope I can bring some of the issues Olson raises into the class. Don’t Be Such a Scientist is a rich source of ideas, and I’ll be riffing off them for some time to come.ReferenceOlson, R. (2009). Don't Be Such a Scientist. Island Press, 1-216 ISBN: 9781597265638* That Olson mentions the tenor at scienceblogs.com as something damaging rather than helpful... let’s say I’ll be interested to read the response.** For me, the movie was Edward Scissorhands.*** I do have to wonder what Olson makes of the success of House, a show that has a character that seems to violate almost single suggestion that Olson has. The character is unlikeable, always rising above...... Read more »

Olson, R. (2009) Don't Be Such a Scientist. Island Press, 1-216. info:other/9781597265638

  • April 20, 2009
  • 03:49 PM
  • 1,065 views

Are big brains for adulterous cheating?

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

Humans are obsessed with the things that make us different from other animals. And thus we are obsessed with trying to figure out what makes large brains.Ideas for what drives selection for large brains include the idea that predators have bigger brains than prey, generalist feeders have bigger brains than specialist feeders, and that organisms living in complex social groups have bigger brains than those that do not. In this paper, author Michael Schillaci focuses on the latter possibility, and in particular, mating systems. The paper does a fairly complex set of comparisons, but I want to focus in on brain size, since I am a neurobiologist.The approach is simple. Measure a bunch of brains, bodies, and testes, and see if there are any correlations between brain size and various other measures of social systems and mating. There are no experiments here, only analyses.This sort of analysis can only be as good as the initial data, so it’s worth looking at where these are drawn from. The author did not collect any of his own data, but reanalyzed data compiled in a book chapter of about 31 primate species, including humans. Of all the primate species, I think it’s fair to say that we understand humans better than any others. And the data for humans here say that the average mass for humans is... 40 kilograms? Less than 90 pounds for the average human?Similarly, the human mating system is listed as... monogamous? It seems to me that there is anthropological data for a very wide range of human mating systems (although the mode may well be monogamy).When two of your data points for the best known species are... arguable... you burn a fair amount of credibility in the other data included in the analysis. Unfortunately, since these data are all published elsewhere, in a book chapter, if you can’t track down that original book chapter, you’re sort of stuck in terms of understanding the argument and logic behind those choices.Schillaci finds a correlation that monogamous species tend to have larger brains. This is perhaps surprising, given that the hypothesis has usually been that large brains are positively correlated with complex social systems, and monogamy is usually viewed as a simpler social system.From here, Schillaci advances an hypothesis: If you’re monogamous, you have a large brain to have extra-pair copulations. That is, to cheat on your partner. This is a modification of the “social complexity” hypothesis: the complexity is not in the number of individuals you partner with, but in deception necessary to find mating opportunities outside of monogamy.This is an interesting idea, but it is way more speculative than the last sentence in the abstract suggests. For one thing, only four of the sampled species are monogamous (one of which, Aotus trivergatus, is pictured). It seems to be a small sample from which to draw conclusions.The good news is that testing this hypothesis is conceptually straightforward with DNA fingerprinting. You could measure the rate of extra-pair paternity of offspring. The species with the highest rates would be predicted to have larger brains, according to this hypothesis.ReferenceSchillaci, M. (2006). Sexual Selection and the Evolution of Brain Size in Primates PLoS ONE, 1 (1) DOI: 10.1371/journal.pone.0000062... Read more »

  • October 15, 2009
  • 08:00 AM
  • 1,043 views

Retracting a paper when the science is sound

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

The most recent issue of PNAS has an editorial explaining why they required a paper that appeared online to be retracted. It’s a situation that is, as far as I can tell, without a clear precedent.The paper, which has four authors, was published online at the end of August. Apparently unbeknownst to some of the other authors, one author signed an agreement with the National Institutes of Health (NIH) not to publish data arising from the project until near the end of September.Nobody is denying that there’s a problem here. But was retraction the best or only option?Retraction is a serious business. It is a formal expunging of a paper from the scientific record. In theory, that paper should never be cited. It’s all very mannered and Victorian: “We shall never speak of this again.”Previously, when I’ve seen papers retracted, it’s usually been due to a problem with the science, where questions have been raised about the truth of the data (due to error or scientific naughtiness). Occasionally, there has been some other sort of weirdness that has resulted in retraction, but in all cases, only two parties have been involved: the authors and the editors.This situation adds a strange new wrinkle: the ethical violation involves a third party. And as Newtonian physicists learned, three body problems can be insanely difficult. There are many questions arising from this action.Nobody is questioning the science presented in the paper. Because retraction was usually reserved for papers that were wrong, it ensured the scientific record remained free of known error. That purpose is not served by retraction here.Can this paper be published in another journal at a later time? Retracting a paper for an ethical violation other than those related to the integrity of the data or text is so rare that I have no idea if there will be any issues with trying to publish the results elsewhere later.Only one author signed off on the embargo, but three more people are suffering the consequences of the retraction. This seems to be an offshoot of the standards for authorship established by journal editors: Every author is responsible for every claim in the paper equally. Authorship conveys equal responsibility for everything in the paper.Except that again, the problem is not with the text. The problem is with an agreement entered into with a third party. If NIH’s policy is being violated, shouldn’t NIH be the one responsible for enforcing any consequences of breaking embargo rather than the journal? Maybe this journal’s action was requested by NIH, but if so, the editorial doesn’t say.The whole situation seems analogous to someone not paying his power bills and having his car, and the cars of his business partners, repossessed.The editorial course of action seems unsatisfying. The Adventures in Ethics and Science blog raised a similar point. It seems that when dealing with scientific misconduct, there are only two options: a slap on the wrist or the firing squad. That, I think, is the heart of the problem. Editors have an limited range of tools to deal with ethical violations. The editors can either “wag their finger” at the authors, which could be seen as complicity with an ethical violation, or retract the paper, which could be seen as swatting a fly with a hammer.I’m all for dead flies, but I hate the holes in the wall. There’s got to be room for sanctions that are less destructive.ReferenceSchekman, R. (2009). PNAS takes action regarding breach of NIH embargo policy on a PNAS paper Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 106 (40), 16893-16893 DOI: 10.1073/pnas.0910317106... Read more »

  • September 7, 2009
  • 07:00 AM
  • 1,033 views

Fence lizards versus fire ants: Evolutionary fail?

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

As many know, this is the 150th anniversary of the publication of On the Origin of Species. If I may be so bold, one of the things that might distinguish our thinking about evolution in the last 50 years from the first hundred years might be the speed at which natural selection can operate. For a long time, we thought of evolution taking long times: millions of years would be needed to see the gradual accumulation of changes. We learned in the past few decades that we can see the effects of selection over the course of a few decades.

There are a few fast changing situations that press should press the fast forward button on natural selection. Invasions are one. That’s why they’re invasions, not slow expansions. Boronow and Langkilde look at how the invasion of red fire ants are affecting fence lizards.... Read more »

Boronow, K., & Langkilde, T. (2009) Sublethal effects of invasive fire ant venom on a native lizard. Journal of Experimental Zoology Part A: Ecological Genetics and Physiology. DOI: 10.1002/jez.570  

  • August 1, 2011
  • 08:00 AM
  • 1,024 views

Cheating the hangman: How worms escape a fungal noose

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

Classic rivalries of summer 2011: Harry verus Voldemort. Cap versus the Red Skull. Optimus versus Megatron. And now, worms versus fungus.

Normally, we think of fungi as decomposers that sit around and wait for something to die. Some fungi might infect the living. But there are are few have decided to screw all that and will kill for their sustenance.

Fungi are not mobile, so their technique is to create snares. They form a loop of cells that can inflate when their inner surface is touch, trapping anything within them in a matter of about one tenth of a second. Human reaction time is about two tenths of a second, just for comparison. Fortunately, the opening of these snares are about 10 to 25 millionths of a meter (µm). These are not traps that we need concern ourselves with.

But that is just the right diameter for small nematode worm, like Caenorhabditis elegans.


(The image has been coloured; nematode worms are not generally purple, not are the fungal snares red.)

The worms can avoid this when they are very young or fully grown, because they are too small and big to get stopped by or enter into the loop, respectively. The juveniles, however, are just the right width. The do have a plan, however: they can escape. When a worm is touched on its front half (but not the very frontmost tip), it will stop, stop moving it head side to side, and reverse. If you touch the very tio (the nose, so to speak), the side-to-side head movements don’t stop.

As it happens, the neural basis of this touch response – how it’s triggered, what neurons are active, and so on – was worked out before people were able to show what the function of the behaviour was.

Here, Maguire and colleagues provide a whole mess of evidence showing the relationship between the touch response of the worm and the hunting success of the fungus.

First, they show that because the worms are tapered, the fungus almost always traps the front half of the worm, explaining why touch to the rear does not trigger this response.

Second, they show that mutants that have defects in their sense of touch are trapped at much higher rates than those without the mutations, tying the presence of this behaviour with fitness consequences.

They are also able to show that if the animals have normal touch, but keep performing the side-to-side exploratory behaviour with their head after they get touched, they are still caught more often than animals with the normal touch response.

There are more experiments in this short paper, but those are some of the core findings. This short paper is wonderfully clear and logical in the design and presentation of its experiments. It’s an excellent example of neuroethology.

Reference

Maguire SM, Clark CM, Nunnari J, Pirri JK, Alkema MJ (2011). The C. elegans touch response
facilitates escape from predacious fungi. Current Biology: In press. DOI: 10.1016/j.cub.2011.06.063... Read more »

Maguire SM, Clark CM, Nunnari J, Pirri JK, & Alkema MJ. (2011) The C. elegans touch response facilitates escape from predacious fungi. Current Biology. info:/10.1016/j.cub.2011.06.063

  • February 10, 2010
  • 02:43 PM
  • 1,018 views

I have a big beak and a small tongue: Hornbill feeding

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

In the movie Roxanne, Steve Martin’s Cyrano-esque character has a scene where he’s supposed to drink from a small fluted wine glass, but his character’s large schnoz makes it impossible. That’s sort of the task faced by several birds species with large, lengthy bills.

Feeding is no small task for birds. Keep in mind that birds have no hands to manipulate their food, and a bird’s bill is completely inflexible. Imagine trying to eat without moving your lips.

Hornbills (like Aceros cassadix, pictured) have a world-class long beak. It seems likely that this dramatic elongation isn’t tied in with feeding, but may be related to some other kind of physiological or ecological demand. Indeed, to make matters more difficult for feeding, these animals have a very short tongue.

Here you can see a picture of the short tongue in Buceros hydrocorax, taken from a paper by Baussart and Bels. These researchers had previously examined feeding in toucans, also renown for their large beaks, and wanted to see if hornbills fed in a similar way. They recorded three individuals from three different hornbill species on high-speed video.

All the hornbills feed in roughly the same way. They position feed in their beaks, and use a head movement to get food down their throats. Feeding doesn't involve the tongue at all. A few other birds use similar kinds of mechanisms, but hornbills move their heads much more horizontally than other birds.

Buassert and Bels call this way of feeding “ballistic food transport.” Other birds also use some head movements in feeding, but these large beaked birds appear to have taken it a bit further. Indeed, this is probably the only way that they would be able to feed.

I wonder how they drink?

References

Baussart, S., & Bels, V. (2010). Tropical hornbills (Aceros cassidix,
Aceros undulatus, and Buceros hydrocorax) use ballistic transport to feed with their large beaks Journal of Experimental Zoology Part A: Ecological Genetics and Physiology DOI: 10.1002/jez.590

Aceros cassadix photo on Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.... Read more »

  • November 2, 2009
  • 07:00 AM
  • 989 views

Let your neurons relax, the predators are gone!

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

Predators eat prey. Prey, over time, evolve features to evade predators. But what happens when predators go away?
... Read more »

  • June 30, 2009
  • 08:00 AM
  • 976 views

When did central nervous systems evolve?

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

“It has the most primitive form of nervous system of any bilateral animal,” intones the voiceover for the National Geographic video.The “it” being referred to is an acorn worm, a little known kind of invertebrate that is actually relatively closely related to the vertebrates. Vertebrates belong to the chordate phylum, and acorn worms are hemichordates – literally, “half chordates.” Hemichordates are interesting in studies of chordate evolution (and thus, in a roundabout way, human evolution) because they hint at what features that very early chordates might have had. If a feature is shared by both hemichordates and chordates, that probably means it was present in the common ancestor of both.One of the most unusual features of chordates is their dorsal nervous system. In most animals, the majority of the nervous system runs along the underside of the animal, but in chordates, it runs along the back. Hemichordates have a proverbial foot in both camps, with some neurons running dorsally and some ventrally. With such a strange organization, you might expect that the nervous system of hemichordates has been studied to death. But surprisingly, you’d be wrong. This new paper by Nomaksteinsky and colleagues tries to answer a very basic question: do hemichordates have a central nervous system? While older studies agree that there are cords of neurons, they disagree over whether there are neuronal cell bodies in them, which most central nervous systems have.The authors looked at Ptychodera flava (pictured). A big advantage that anatomists have now that classical anatomists didn’t is the ability to look for particular molecules using antibody labeling. Nomaksteinsky and colleagues were able to use a suite of labels that bind to molecules are found fairly specifically in particular kinds of neurons. For instance, they found neuronal cell bodies with the neurochemical serotonin in the periphery, but not in a region called the collar. Taking the results for several different labels together, the overall pattern was not one of neurons sorted around higgledy-piggledy; rather, particular kinds of neurons were found in fairly specific locations, which is consistent with the sort of organization expected in a true central nervous system.The authors do not venture an opinion as to whether the dorsal or ventral nerve cord in acorn worms is the evolutionary equivalent to the chordate dorsal cord, but clearly detailed anatomical work over development might help sort this out in future. One key point is that a central nervous system is a very old feature in the evolution leading to humans. Another key point is that, as with jellyfish, not to underestimate the complexity of nervous systems among the spineless.Maybe that National Geographic video should get a new voiceover.ReferenceNomaksteinsky, M., Röttinger, E., Dufour, H., Chettouh, Z., Lowe, C., Martindale, M., & Brunet, J. (2009). Centralization of the Deuterostome Nervous System Predates Chordates Current Biology DOI: 10.1016/j.cub.2009.05.063... Read more »

Nomaksteinsky, M., Röttinger, E., Dufour, H., Chettouh, Z., Lowe, C., Martindale, M., & Brunet, J. (2009) Centralization of the Deuterostome Nervous System Predates Chordates. Current Biology. DOI: 10.1016/j.cub.2009.05.063  

  • September 11, 2009
  • 08:00 AM
  • 950 views

The small brain of the biggest shark in the world

by Zen Faulkes in NeuroDojo

“We’re going to have some problems getting this under the microscope...”There are just times you’d like to be a fly on the wall when certain science projects are being planned. I can’t quite imagine the conversations that led up to this paper. “Let’s look at the brain of the biggest fish in the world.” (I suppose the fish start small and have to grow up big. But still.)The brains of sharks are interesting, in part because they much larger than people would think. People tend to think of sharks as primitive (how many shark documentaries have used the phrase, “unchanged for millions of years”?), and primitive means small brains. But compared to body size, shark brains are often as big as birds’ and mammals’.And when thinking about evolution of brains, extremes are often very informative. The whale shark (Rhincodon typus) is not only extreme in its size (as noted, they’re bigger than any other fish in the world), but extreme in its diet: it’s a filter feeder, which is not the first thing that comes to mind when people hear the words, “giant shark.”This paper is not only interesting because the species is unusual for neurobiology, it’s interesting because it applies a technique that is used a lot for humans, but quire rarely for other beasties: magnetic resonance imaging (MRI). Now, this is not fMRI, which is constantly in the science headlines: this is purely anatomical data, not imaging the brain of a live shark.Although the whale shark has a massive brain in absolute terms, it turns out that it isn’t very large relative to its body mass compared to other sharks. In fact, it’s small. In a situation like this, there are two hypotheses that come to mind. The first is that the feature was inherited from a common ancestor, in which case, you6d predict that the whale shark’s relatives also have small brains. The second is that the feature may be an adaptation to the particular ecology of the species, and the prediction there would be that species with the most similar lifestyle would have small brains.In this case, the whale shark has a small brain in common with other large filter feeding sharks, like the basking shark (compared using previously published data). It’s easy to think that filter feeders can afford to have small brains, but the authors caution that social behaviours in sharks and allies is another factor that is often strongly correlated with brain size.When looking at individual regions of the brain, the whale sharks also had something in common with other oceanic, pelagic sharks, but not their relatives: a very large cerebellum. Cerebellum is usually described as being involved in motor coordination. Why would these open ocean sharks need such a large cerebellum? The authors suggest that perhaps the use of that open ocean is more complex than you might expect. The sharks are not just lazing around at the top of the water, but making significant vertical migrations and travel for very long distances. These possibilities seem a bit foggy, however, based on the traditional notions of cerebellar function. Usually, the cerebellum is involved in coordinating fine movements, not long range navigation. There may be some other undiscovered ecological or behavioural force in play shaping the brains of these massive animals.ReferenceYopak, K., & Frank, L. (2009). Brain Size and Brain Organization of the Whale Shark, Rhincodon typus, Using Magnetic Resonance Imaging Brain, Behavior and Evolution, 74 (2), 121-142 DOI: 10.1159/000235962Photo by user TANAKA Juuyoh (田中十洋) on Flickr, used under a Creative Commons license.... Read more »

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