Reconnect With Nature Blog

Plight Of The River Dolphins

Note from Con Slobodchikoff: This is a guest post by Randall Johnson, who has been a frequent contributor to the Reconnect With Nature Blog and the Dog Behavior Blog.

 

Not long ago, I received an e-mail from a friend of mine who has dedicated almost 30 years of her life to protecting a large tract of the Amazon rainforest outside of Iquitos, Peru. She told me that in the early part of May, six pink river dolphins, or 'botos', Inia geoffrensis, had been found dead on the Ucayali River and evidence suggested they had been victims of commercial fishermen who had recently passed through area. Having spent a lot of time in that region in the early '90s, I felt a twinge of sadness and regret because I remember how that part of the forest used to be relatively unspoiled.

LAGOA DA PRATA BOTOS (Photo Credit: Randall Johnson) Photographed in a clearwater lake in Brazil, this boto, Inia geoffrensis, displays its long beak, small eye, a paddle-shaped flipper, and dorsal ridge. Because their cervical vertebrae are not fused together, as in marine dolphins, botos can bend their necks to an angle of 90° to its body, downward or sideways, and some of this flexibility can be inferred by the neck folds. Although their eyes appear small, in the skull they are just as big as those of marine dolphins and their eyesight is surprisingly good, with aquarium-held animals having proved capable of recognizing people by vision alone. In murky waters, however, they rely on a highly-developed echolocation system to navigate and find food and there is some evidence that they may be capable of stunning prey fish by using sonic bursts produced by their melon, a separate organ on their foreheads (visible in the photo), the shape of which can be altered at will.

LAGOA DA PRATA BOTOS (Photo Credit: Randall Johnson) Also known as the "pink dolphin", botos that spend a lot of time in clearwater lakes or tributaries tend to be uniformly gray, which is thought to be the skin's reaction to more constant exposure to sunlight. In murkier waters, adults often display some degree of pink coloration, ranging from completely pink to pink swashes and patches, with the rest of the body a medium to light gray. The boto pair in the photo, identified as male and female, typifies that most Inia sighted in the wild are single individuals or pairs, usually mother and calf. Although little is known about the social lives of these animals, their social organization seems to be intricately linked to the seasonal rising and falling of the water level, with dolphins dispersing during the high water, or flood, season and regrouping during the low-water, or dry, season. Coordinated fishing has been reported, sometimes involving tuxuxi dolphins and giant river otters, and the author of this post has also documented that botos practice food-sharing.

 

This latest report of river dolphin deaths may seem insignificant at first glance, but it drove home the point that the world's freshwater dolphins are the most endangered cetaceans, with their populations in decline, mostly as a result of human activities and impacts on their habitats.  In fact, one species, the baiji, or Yangtze River dolphin, was declared 'functionally extinct' when an international team of researchers failed to find a single dolphin during a 2006 survey expedition.

At about the same time, an ambitious two-year-long river dolphin census was getting underway in South America, involving 13 rivers and covering five nations and 3,600 km of rivers. Led by Fernando Trujillo, scientific director of the Omacha Foundation (Colombia) and financed by WWF Switzerland and WWF LAC's Freshwater Program, the census recorded 3,188 botos and tucuxi dolphins, Sotalia fluviatilis.

"This census gives us a baseline population for these species and gives us an insight into the state of the ecosystems they inhabit," said Trujillo. "These results also provide the foundation for designing an evaluation and monitoring program for South American river dolphins."

A new method for surveying river dolphins, developed for the purpose of this census, was certified by whale experts from the International Union for the Conservation of Nature (IUCN) and eighteen professionals were trained in it before getting started.

The survey confirmed the major threats faced by these dolphins: pollution from farming, industry, and mining; hydroelectric development; boat traffic and disturbance; prey depletion due to over-fishing; and incidental mortality in fishing nets.

A relatively new and particularly serious threat was also identified: in parts of Peru and Brazil, botos are being deliberately killed and their decomposing carcasses are used as bait to attract a variety of catfish (mota fish), making it easier to catch this commercially valuable species. For instance, between 800 and 1,200 pounds of mota fish came be captured in two hours using a two-meter long boto.

This practice is growing at an alarming rate and hundreds of dolphins are being killed each year in Peru and Brazil for mota fisheries alone. It now represents a serious threat that needs to be addressed to prevent unrecoverable damage to the affected dolphin populations.

In the past, Amazon River dolphins were protected by a body of legends and beliefs that accredited them with magic powers. There is, for instance, a widespread belief that the boto is a shape shifter, or encantado, who transforms into an irresistibly handsome young man and seduces young women. [Children born with certain birth defects are believed to be the offspring of a boto and women who conceive while their husbands are away can blame the dolphin.]

Many locals don't kill or eat dolphins because they are believed to carry the souls of the dead. In other locations, dolphins aren't killed because to do so would bring bad luck or misfortune.

And the tucuxi dolphin is thought to be a kind of "brujo", or wizard, which is either feared or revered, depending on the tributary. [I know this to be true based on personal conversations I had in Peru.]

However, commercial fishermen come from areas that don't share these beliefs. Their bottom line is profit-driven, so they aren't deterred by the dolphins' legendary powers.

Sadly, even local fishermen are now killing botos because they see them as competitors for a diminishing supply of fish, even though there is only a small degree of overlap between the species of fish eaten by dolphins and the species of fish eaten by humans.

According to the IUCN's 2008 Red List, we are facing an "extinction crisis", with almost one in four [mammals] at risk of disappearing forever. The study showed that at least 1,141 of the 5,487 known mammals on Earth are known to be threatened with extinction and the world's remaining river dolphins are prominently featured among them.

Given that they are top predators in their ecosystems, river dolphins are not only visible indicators of the overall health of the rivers in which they live, but they are essential to  maintaining the delicate balance of the entire ecosystem. Removing top predators---something our species is quite adept as doing--can set off the eventual collapse of the ecosystem they occupy with disastrous results that ultimately affect human populations. How many times do we need to learn this lesson before it finally sinks in?

Tool-Use In A Clever Mollusk

Note from Con Slobodchikoff: This is a guest post by Randall Johnson, who has contributed a number of posts to this blog and to the Dog Behavior Blog.

 

 In the 1866 classic, Toilers of the Sea, French writer Victor Hugo called it a 'devil fish' and described it as "disease shaped into monstrosity".

A little more than a century later, another famous Frenchman, oceanographer Jacque-Yves Cousteau, dedicated an entire book to the devil-fish and called it a "soft intelligence".

The subject of these two diametrically-opposed descriptions is the octopus, a mollusk which, along with squids and cuttlefish, is considered by marine scientists to be the most intelligent invertebrate.

Although biologists continue to debate the extent of their intelligence and learning abilities, numerous maze and problem-solving experiments have shown that the octopus has both long-and short-term memories, despite the fact that its brain contains far fewer brain cells and has a much simpler anatomical organization than that of the vertebrate brain.

Now, thanks to almost a decade of underwater research by Australia's Museum Victoria, the results of which were published in a recent issue of Current Biology,   the octopus joins a growing list of animals that use tools, which not so long ago was considered to be an exclusively human trait.

Twenty veined octopuses (Amphioctopus marginatus) were filmed for a total of 500 diver hours between 1999 and 2008 off the coasts of Northern Sulawesi and Bali in Indonesia. During that time, four individuals were seen to collect discarded coconut shells that have become a regular feature of the sea bed in the study area and deftly remove accumulated mud and sediment. Then, they turned the shells over so the open side faced upward. If they'd collected two shells, they stacked one inside the other and spread themselves over the assembled shells, raised them up by stiffening their muscular arms, and quickly scuttled away using what researchers call "stilt walking".

The coconut shells are ultimately used as a protective shelter against predators in a part of the sea bed where there are few places for the mollusks to hide. If the octopus has one shell, it turns it over and crawls underneath. If, however, it secured two shells, it assembles them back into their whole coconut form and hides inside.
 
One of the researchers involved in the study, Prof. Tom Tregenza, an evolutionary ecologist at the University of Exeter, UK, says: "A tool is something an animal carries around and then uses on a particular occasion for a particular purpose.

He then equates the coconut-carrying octopus to people walking around with a closed umbrella.
"While the octopus carries the coconut around, there is no use to it - no more use than an umbrella is to you when you have it folded up and you are carrying it about. The umbrella only becomes useful when you lift it above your head and open it up. And just in the same way, the coconut becomes useful to this octopus when it stops and turns it the other way up and climbs inside it."

The researchers concluded that the collection and use of objects by animals is likely to form a continuum stretching from insects to primates [shades of Darwin!] and that the definition of tools will continue to provide fodder for ongoing debate.

Of course, the octopus is reputed to be intelligent, however one defines it. It's long been known capable of figuring out how to unscrew the top of a glass jar to access to the tasty crab inside.

More recently, some octopus species in the Indonesians waters, and at least one species in the Atlantic Ocean, have been shown to have exceptional camouflaging abilities by mimicking flounders in form, coloration, and swimming speed to avoid predators, who consider flounders too tough to tackle--literally.

Without a doubt, the octopus has any number of secrets yet to be revealed…and the ones that science has managed to penetrate will continue to motivate ongoing investigations into the capabilities of the ocean's mysterious "soft intelligence".

For readers who want to read the published paper, here is the citation:
Julian K. Finn, Tom Tregenza, Mark D. Norman. Defensive tool use in a coconut-carrying octopus. Current Biology, 2009.
A soundless video of a coconut-carrying octopus can be seen at: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/science/nature/8408233.stm

Sophisticated Tool Use In Brazilian Monkeys

Note from Con Slobodchikoff: This is a guest post by Randall Johnson, who has contributed a numer of posts to this blog and to the Dog Behavior Blog.

In a forest reserve in the savannah-like "Cerrado" biome of Central Brazil, an amazing display of planning, learning, and sophisticated tool use has been documented in a species of New World monkeys. Wild capuchin monkeys (Cebus libidinosus)— a species familiar to many as organ grinders—move along the ground, methodically tapping palm nuts that are produced at ground level to see if they are ripe. Those that pass the test are carried up into trees, where their outer cases are removed and the exposed nuts are dropped on the ground for two or three days to dry.

Then, the aged palm nuts are collected and carried to a separate nut-cracking area. There, the monkeys climb up on top of flat rocks or boulders and, using large stones they have previously selected, they start pounding the hard-shelled nuts, with the stones being used as a hammer and the boulder as an anvil.  After a few whacks, the shells are broken and the monkeys extract the kernels.

The entire process involves several days of testing, harvesting, transporting, and hammering and appears to be a planned activity—a part of the monkeys' culture—that takes place year-round.

This discovery, first reported in The American Journal of Primatology (December 2004) by a multinational research team led by Dorothy Fragaszy, a psychologist with the University of Georgia, is remarkable in that, up to that time, routine tool use in wild primates had been routinely ascribed only to chimpanzees and orangutans and, although there had been anecdotal reports of tool-using capuchins dating back to the sixteenth century, this was the first time such behavior had been scientifically documented.

Furthermore, although the stone hammers had not been fashioned in any way, their use to open encapsulated nuts is recognized as being a complex form of tool use. A number of factors (i.e., material, resistance, friability, shape, and weight) affect an object's suitability to open a hard-shelled nut, with weight being one of the most important. The heavier the object, the fewer strikes are required to crack open a nut.

Fragaszy and her colleagues originally estimated that the stone hammers weighed 16 ounces, but in a subsequent trip, they were found to weigh over two pounds. Given that adult capuchins weigh between 6-8 pounds, they were selecting—and lifting—stones a third and sometime half their own body weight.

The effective use of hammer and anvil is seen only in adults. Although juvenile capuchins are interested in the activity and often play with the procedure, they are not effective at it. It takes years of practice—and maturation—to become effective at cracking open palm nuts with the properly chosen stone.

If you would like to see a video of this extraordinary behavior, go to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-G60UCeXFp0&feature=player_embedded. It's an excerpt from a BBC documentary entitled "Clever Monkey", narrated by Sir David Attenborough. In his closing remark, note his reference to these monkeys as being another intelligent species on Earth.

And if you would like to meet other animals that are known to use tools in the wild, go to: http://www.mnn.com/earth-matters/wilderness-resources/photos/15-remarkable-animals-that-use-tools/handymen

Desert Ants That Count

Note from Con Slobodchikoff: This is a post by guest author Randall Johnson, who has contributed a number of posts to this blog and to the Dog Behavior Blog.

Given that RWNB ended 2009 with a post about ants, it seemed fitting to start the New Year with another post featuring these fascinating insects.

A study done by German scientists, led by Harald Wolf, professor of neurobiology at the University of Ulm, suggests that desert-dwelling ants may have "pedometer-like" cells in their brains that enable them to count their steps and that they use this unique navigational skill to find their way back to the nest after foraging for food.

But why desert ants? Because most ants live in places that allow them to lay a scent trail on the ground that show other ants how to get to food and back home.  Scent trails, however, don't work in the desert; the constantly shifting sand scatters smells almost immediately.

So how do these ants find their way back to their nest with such unerring accuracy? It's already known that ants can use the position of the sun and the pattern of polarized light as a kind of 'celestial compass', but that doesn't explain how they determine distances with such precision.

To try to unravel this mystery, Wolf and his assistant, Matthias Whittlinger, trained two groups of Sahara desert ants to find a food site 10 meters from their nest. While the ants were busy eating, the scientists removed them and divided into three groups.

One group was left alone. The second group had pre-cut pig bristles superglued to each of their six legs, effectively giving them stilts. Ants in the third group had their lower leg segments cut off, thus making each leg shorter. (This part of the experience has since drawn some criticism. It should be noted, though, that in the wild, these segments often dry up and break off naturally without interfering with the ants' ability to walk long distances.)

The ants were then released to make their way back to the nest. The scientists watched to see what would happen. If there really was a step-counting mechanism at work, then the ants whose strides had been altered would have their calculations thrown off.

And that’s exactly what happened.  The normal ants walked right up to the nest and went inside. The stilt-leg ants, using giant steps, walked past the entrance and stopped 15 meters away. The stump-legged ants, using baby steps, stopped short of the entrance by almost 5 meters. Yet, all three groups had walked exactly the same number of steps back from the food site.

Interestingly, when the ants went out again in search of food, the two groups with altered gaits had no trouble judging the correct distance back to the nest.

Of course, this doesn't mean Sahara ants are actually counting their steps as "one, two, three, four, five," and so forth, the way we would. More likely, Wolfe explains, there is a neural mechanism at work that converts the motor excitation caused by each stride into a measure of distance.

Still, it's an ingenious solution to not being able to lay scent trails and it shows there is still much to be learned from even the humblest of creatures.

The Compassionate Ant

Note from Con Slobodchikoff: This is a post by guest author Randall Johnson, who has contributed a number of posts and comments to this blog.

I remember growing up hearing and reading about the proverbial wisdom of ants. If you check the Old Testament, Proverbs 6:6-8 tell us: “Go to the ant, O sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise. Without having any chief, officer, or ruler, she prepares her bread in summer and gathers her food in harvest.”

And let’s not forget Aesop’s fable, “The Ant and Grasshopper”, which depicted the ant as a forward-thinking planner that gathered food in preparation for the coming winter while the grasshopper danced and played his fiddle, seemingly oblivious to future. This fable was, and still is, used to teach the virtues of hard work and saving and the perils of improvidence.

In the realm of ethology, ants have long been known for their complex cooperative behavior, including simple forms of rescue behavior, i.e., sand digging, which date back to 1874. [Belt T (1874) the Naturalist in Nicaragua. London: Murray].

Now, a new study, Nowbahari E, Scohier A, Durand J-L, Hollis KL (2009) Ants, Cataglyphis cursor, Use Precisely Directed Rescue Behavior to Free Entrapped Relatives. PLoS ONE 4(8): e6573. doi:10.1371/journal.pone.0006573, shows just how sophisticated this kind of behavior is.

In a total of 54 tests, the authors experimentally mimicked a natural situation involving an ant restrained by collapsing sand and debris. Hidden underneath the sand was a nylon snare that held the ant in place. If the captive ant was from a different colony or of a different species, the rescue ants ignored it. However, if the captive was a nestmate, the rescuers responded by excavating the sand, exposing the nylon thread, carrying sand away from the snare, and then biting at the snare itself.

These experiments demonstrated that the rescuers were somehow able to recognize what has holding their nestmate in place and direct approach behavior toward that specific object. This shows that rescue behavior is “far more exact, sophisticated, and complexly organized than previously observed,” unlike simpler actions such as digging and limb pulling, which could be triggered by a chemical distress signal.

The tests further showed that rescue behavior is directed exclusively toward a nestmate and it depends on an actively produced eliciting stimulus, most likely a pheromone that contains a component that is unique to each colony. However, pheromones alone don’t explain how the rescuers were able to find the precise location of the nylon thread and target their bites to the thread itself.

The authors distinguish rescue behavior from other types of cooperative acts in that the rescuing ants risk being trapped under the falling sand and there is no reward for the rescuers other than the benefits of kinship relationship.

Obviously, the ‘wise’ ant holds onto more secrets and surprises that might inspire new proverbs and fables.

Note: The PLoS ONE article includes two videos of these experiments.

RECONNECTING WITH NATURE…THROUGH AESOP’S FABLES?

This is a post from Guest Author Randall Johnson, who has contributed a number of guest posts and comments to this blog.

Reconnecting with nature may take some unexpected twists and turns along the way, but who would have thought Aesop’s Fables would turn out to one of them? That’s right. The ancient Greek story-teller credited with collecting such timeless fables as “The Tortoise and the Hare” and “The Boy Who Cried Wolf”, each with a moral lesson at the end, may also have been a keen observer of bird behavior.

In “The Crow and the Pitcher”, a thirsty crow comes across a pitcher with water at the bottom, beyond the reach of its beak. After failing to push the pitcher over, the crow drops in pebbles, one by one, until the water rises to the top, allowing the bird to drink. (The moral of the story: Necessity is the mother of invention.)

Well, it turns out that this is more than just an old fable. Researchers Christopher Bird of the University of Cambridge and Nathan Emery of Queen Mary University of London have reported in the current issue of Current Biology that rooks, another corvid and a relative of the crow, are able to use stones to raise the level of water in a plastic container to reach a floating worm.

Bird and Emery experimented on four rooks by presenting them with a clear tube partly filled with water and a worm floating on top, and a nearby pile of stones of varying sizes. The birds spontaneously dropped stones into the water and seemed to estimate how many stones would be needed. They also quickly learned bigger stones worked better than smaller ones.

Although some species of crows have been proven to use tools in the wild, rooks do not. They don’t have to as they have easy access to food, like carrion. But in an experimental situation like this one, they easily figured out how to use the stones to reach the worm.

Says Mr. Bird, “It was a remarkable combination of some understanding of the task with really rapid learning.”  In the summary of their published paper, Bird and Emery state, “This behavior demonstrates a flexible ability to use tools, a finding with implications for the evolution of tool use and cognition in animals.”

The more we take time to watch animals, the better we see how much we share in common with them, including brain power, and how this common thread firmly and solidly connects us to the natural world that supports us all.

Now, I seem to recall Aesop also told a story about the goose that laid golden eggs. Well, if such a fabled fowl should also exist and find its way to my door, that’s one story you won’t read about in Current Biology. I’ll keep that one all to myself.

As Below, So Above

For several days now, as I have been taking my dog for a walk around a pond at the local state park, I have been assaulted by a deer fly (family Tabanidae). The fly always starts buzzing me in the same 30 meter (100 feet) stretch of path, where the acacia trees provide some shade and the winds blow gentle puffs of air.

The fly seems to have a very circumscribed territory. Once I get out of that 30 meter stretch, he breaks off his attack and disappears, only to reappear during my next circuit on that path.

I try to put myself into the world of this fly. I am guessing that his world is encompassed in a plot of land that has a diameter of 30 meters. This is all that he knows. This is all that he sees. At random unpredictable times, potential meals move into range, triggering a hunger response. Outside that range, potential meals vanish, as if they never existed.

With my superior vision, I can see the whole pond, and I can think that it is very quaint that the fly cannot realize that simply going outside his 30 meters would give him more potential meals. He is limited by his perception, in ways that I am not.

But then I think, how much are we humans limited by our perception? Many years ago, I met a farmer who had not traveled more than 20 kilometers (12 miles) from where he had been born 70 years previously. Now many of us travel around the globe fairly effortlessly, and we can use electronic means of perception to see what is happening anywhere in the world.

But our solar system is huge, our galaxy is larger, and our universe is larger still. We can’t see anything of what is happening there, with a few paltry exceptions of Hubbell telescopes and rockets sent to other planets.

Like the fly, our world is circumscribed. We can see much more than the fly, but in the larger scheme of things, our perception does not extend out much more than his, in terms of cosmic distance.

To paraphrase a Hermetic saying, “As below, so above.”  We and the fly have much in common. We both can only see a very small portion of reality. And as we delve into quantum physics, we are not very sure what really is reality. Perhaps there are intelligences greater than ours who think that it is very quaint that we cannot realize that by simply going beyond the limits of our current perception we can see a greater reality. Or perhaps not.

I don’t know if the fly worries about such questions. Current scientific thought would suggest that he is not capable of such thoughts.  And perhaps we too are not capable of thoughts that would transcend our reality, allowing us to see a larger world.

So what to do? In my case, I am simply going to enjoy my moment in Nature, and even though the fly wants to suck my blood, I am going to enjoy his buzzing, even as I wait for my steps to take me out of his range.

A Conversation On Anecdotal Evidence

This is an email conversation between Randall Johnson and Con Slobodchikoff on the value of anecdotal evidence in biology.

Randall Johnson:
I've submitted a new Dog Behavior Blog comment (http://www/dogbehaviorblog.com) in response to your latest entry, "A Dog's Concern for a Cat". Focus: anecdotal evidence as a useful source of information.

Comment on Dog Behavior Blog: This incident joins a long list of other reported observations that clearly show that dogs are capable of feelings we associate with empathy and sympathy and that they extend these feelings toward other species.  If we had only a handful of stories like this one, then we could say this is anecdotal evidence, but when there are hundreds of stories reporting similar behavior, we no longer have anecdotal evidence, but rather a solid body of observational evidence. Since the human environment is the dog’s natural habitat, then these reports can also be considered as field observations, which is a respected source of data-gathering. I don’t know if anyone has decided how many anecdotes it takes to cross over to the realm of observational field data, but if this hasn’t been done yet, it’s high time some kind of marker was devised. And, in defense of anecdotal evidence, Hungarian ethologist Vilmos Csányi of the Eötvös Loránd University, who has devoted more than a decade to investigating dogs’ cognitive abilities, has used anecdotes on many occasions to inspire more formal experimental investigations.

Con Slobodchikoff:
Thank you for your insightful comment, which I published on the dog behavior blog.  As you know, "anecdotal evidence" can sometimes be used as a convenient way to sweep inconvenient evidence under the proverbial rug. There surely has to be some kind of standard for how much anecdotal evidence constitutes proof, but I don't know of any standards. However, if you go back to the papers in biology journals of 60-70 years ago, much of what was presented there was in the form of anecdotal evidence. Where would science be today if we discounted such evidence?

Randall Johnson:
While writing my comment, I was pretty sure there was no standard for anecdotal evidence. You raised a good point about this kind of evidence having played an honorable role in science in the past.
Somewhere along the way, it was stripped of some of its original credibility and we need to get it back or devise some clear guidelines for its use as a source of evidence.

I am submitting a brief comment in response to the "Are We Unique?" essay on the Reconnect With Nature blog. (I'm surprised this one hasn't generated more responses.)

Con Slobodchikoff:
First, thanks for your comment on Are We Unique. As usual, a great comment! I have posted it, and I hope that it raises some discussion or at least some thoughts on the part of the readers.

For the anecdotal evidence part, it seems to me that biologists have bought into the idea that experimentation is the only way to obtain valid biological data. This is fine for lab studies, but experiments are often difficult to do in nature, under field conditions, and a lot of the time we are left with observations that cannot be quantified or even repeated. In my mind, this does not make them any the less valid. I think we need to come back to a point where a certain quantity of similar observations is accepted as proof of the validity of a particular behavior or biological circumstance.

Randall Johnson:
My question, at the beginning of this discussion, was: At what point does an observed behavior stop being treated as anecdotal evidence and be recognized as observational data? Most definitions I’ve looked at stated that anecdotal evidence is limited to one or a small number of cases, but no one, so far, has said, “Well, if you have 10 cases of “X” behavior, it’s anecdotal, but if you have 11 cases, it’s observational data.” Maybe it’s not all that important, but considering science strives for precision, there’s a big fuzzy area here that’s calling out for better definition.

However, the larger issue is still related to the credibility of anecdotal evidence. In the late 19th century, it fell under some heavy criticism, largely because George Romanes, Charles Darwin’s protégé and an eminent biologist in his own right, relied heavily on anecdotal methodology to develop his theory of comparative psychology and, to this day, there still seems to be a lingering ‘cloud of doubt’ hanging over it.

Then, the other day, I came across a news item from 2005 on the Science Week web site that I found particularly insightful. In discussing numbers and counting in chimpanzees, the writer pointed out that one problem with investigating non-human primates is that experiments can’t be done on large populations because such populations either don’t exist or are prohibitively expensive to maintain. The result is that reported experiments are often "anecdotal", i.e., experiments involving only a few or even a single animal subject. The writer then stated: “But anecdotal evidence can often be of great significance and have startling implications: a report, even in a single animal, of important abstract abilities, numeric or conceptual, is worthy of attention, if only because it may destroy old myths and point to new directions in methodology.”

The debate continues. Although I’m not a gambling man myself, I’m willing to bet that, in the end, anecdotal evidence will regain its former luster and that the academic / scientific community will universally recognize it as a valid—and valuable—source of data. Let’s face it. There are still lots of old myths out waiting to be slain.

Con Slobodchikoff:
Yes, it is true that many experiments cannot be done on multiple animals because of the cost or the lack of animals. I was talking just the other day to someone about Alex, the parrot (see earlier post: A Tribute To Washoe And Alex), and the person I was talking to pointed out that we can’t generalize from only one parrot to say that parrots might have language-like abilities or the cognitive skills to count and identify colors and shapes: Alex might have been a genius among parrots, a feathered Einstein. That might very well be true, and Irene Pepperberg is doing careful experiments with other parrots to test for this possibility. However, Pepperberg’s extensive experiments with Alex show that not all parrots are incapable of complex cognitive skills.

Unlike Pepperberg’s work with Alex, many observations cannot be repeated on command. Does that invalidate them? I guess it depends on the credibility of the observer and the relative novelty of the observation.  If I say that I saw my dog burying a bone in my back yard, no one would question this anecdotal observation. However, if I say that I saw my dog surfing the internet on my computer, lots of people would probably discount that as pure fantasy, because it does not fit the current dogma of what dogs are capable of doing and no one else has reported this (and no, my dog does not surf the internet).

But we have to be careful about discarding observations that do not fit our preconceived notions. If an observation comes from a credible source and can be documented, then that observation can have the seeds of changing our thinking about the world around us.

As William James once said, you need only one white crow to disprove the assertion that all crows are black.

A New View of Dog Domestication: Human-Canid Co-evolution

Note from Con Slobodchikoff: This post is written by guest commentator Randall Johnson.  Once involved in river dolphin research and preservation, Randall Johnson lives in the Brazilian state of Minas Gerais, where he works as a Portuguese-English translator. His household includes three dogs, two of which were adopted off the streets, and he's active in a local group that rescues stray dogs and works to find them good homes. For another post by Randall Johnson on a difference between wolves and dogs, see the Dog Behavior Blog at http://www.dogbehaviorblog.com

     For millions of people around the world, their dogs provide not only an important source of companionship, but also offer a daily way of reconnecting with nature, if for no other reason than they force us to get off our backsides and take them outside for a walk. The intense bond between humans and dogs is an old one, perhaps going back as far as 135,000 years, and we may well ask how it all got started.

     Although a number of theories have been advanced, Austrian ethologist Wolfgang Schleidt, a disciple of Konrad Lorenz, offers an elegant view that emphasizes companionship and cooperation over human domination (see Schleidt, W.M.and Shalter, M.D. Co-evolution of humans and canid: An alternative view of dog domestication: HOMO HOMINI LUPUS? Evolution and Cognition 9(1) 57-72, 2003.). Instead of perpetuating the traditional view that dogs are the products of our ancestors’ ingenuity, Schleidt proposes that the initial contact between humans and gray wolves—from which dogs descended—was mutual and that the impact of the wolves’ social ethics on our own may equal or surpass our impact on their having become dogs. He sees the various changes that occurred both in humans and wolves as a process of co-evolution.

     One of the most intriguing aspects of Schleidt’s scenario is that wolves had a powerful influence on the social ethics of the early human groups through a kind of ‘lupification’ of human behavior or, to put it another way, the ‘humanization of the ape’. Wolves, as pack animals, survive by cooperation and teamwork. They hunt together, raise pups together, share food, and share risks. On the other hand, the social life of chimpanzees, our closest biological relative, is opportunistic, almost Machiavellian in nature, with chimps looking out for ways to get the better of each other. If we look for the biological roots of those traits we value as being especially humane, like group loyalty and cooperation for the common good, we don’t find them in apes. Instead, we find them in the social canids, like the gray wolf.

     At some point after humankind separated from a chimpanzee-like ancestor around six million years ago and spread across Eurasia and into North America, the sociality of human groups stopped completely resembling the primate model and began reflecting elements of the canid model. Based on new paleontologic, biogeographic, and genetic evidence, Schleidt suggests that this shift coincided with the time humans came into close contact with wolves after moving into their domain. Wolves were not only top predators, but also nature’s first ‘pastoralists’, living off of vast, migrating herds of ungulates, e.g., reindeer and bison. During the last Ice Age, these human groups learned how to co-exist with wolves, adopting their pastoralist lifestyle and even some of their pack behavior (learning to cooperate as a group, share risks, extending relationships beyond immediate kinship, etc.). This was also the period during which early humans (i.e. Neanderthals) gave way to modern humans and dogs began separating from wolves.

     Of course, this is an extremely simplified version of one facet of a richly-detailed theory. For those who want to see the ‘big picture’, I urge them to visit the following site and read the full article: www.uwsp.edu/psych/s/275/science/coevolution03.pdf.

--Randall Johnson

Animal Language Institute

This week marks the opening of the online Animal Language Institute.

The Animal Language Institute (ALI) is a website designed to promote interest in animal communication research, especially where it touches upon the cognitive capabilities of animals. With the Internet extending past barriers of geography, politics, and economics, the Animal Language Institute is an ideal way to bring together researchers, students, and curious laypeople from around the world to share ideas and information that will deepen our understanding about the communication systems of other species.

The Animal Language Institute website hopes to be the most extensive and easily accessible repository of information about research into the communication and cognitive abilities of various species of animals. Towards this end, ALI is amassing a core collection of outstanding scientific papers, that will be available to any registered visitor.

The Institute website currently has four major sections: 1) A database of papers published on animal communication; 2) A listing of people who are doing important work in the field; 3) Equipment and software reviews; 4) Interactive tutorials.

ALI will maintain open access to the webpages of the Animal Language Institute for the next month, so that anyone can access any page without registering. After that, ALI will ask people to register in order to access some parts of the website. Registration is free, and can be done at any time. ALI is asking people to register so that it can keep track of how many people are using the resources of the site.

ALI’s website is: http://www.animallanguageinstitute.org. Its mission statement is expressed in detail on its home page, and all doors to other sections are currently open. Go to the website, wander around the pages, and see what you think. If you like what you see, go ahead and register so that you can continue to get access to the site.