Herps, Gait, & the Invention of Clothes

Posted by jns on September 7, 2005

Today’s reading from Richard Dawkins’ The Ancestor’s Tale (Houghton Mifflin, Boston, 2004) touches on several topics (as I catch a bit on the lunch-time notes).

[Speaking of naming types of animals:] Yet another informal grade name, favoured by American zoologists, is ‘herp’. Herpetology is the study of reptiles (except birds) and amphibians. ‘Herp’ is a rare kind of word: an abbreviation for which there is no long form. A herp is simply the kind of animal studied by a herpetologist, and that is a pretty lame way to define an animal.[^*] The only other name that comes close is the biblical ‘creeping thing’. [p. 250]

[About the "authoritative 'Tree of Life' project founded by the Maddison brothers":] This excellent resource is continually updated at http://tolweb.org/tree. The website has a delightful disclaimer: ‘The Tree is under construction. Please have patience: the real Tree took over 3,000,000,000 years to grow.” [footnote, p. 250]

The Human imagination is cowed by antiquity, and the magnitude of geological time is so far beyond the ken of poets and archaeologists it can be frightening. But geological time is large not only in comparison to the familiar timescales of human life and human history. It is large on the timescale of evolution itself. This would surprise those, from Darwin’s own critics on, who have complained of insufficient time for natural selectin to wreak the changes the theory requires o fit. We now realise that the problem is, if anything, opposite. There has been too much time! If we measure evolutionary rates over a short time, and then extrapolate, say, to a million years, the potential amount of evolutionary change turns out to be hugely greater than the actual amount. It is as though evolution must have been marking time for much of the period. Or, if not marking time, wandering around this way and that, with meandering fluctuations drowning out, in the short term, whatever trends there might be in the long. [p. 257]

The head louse, Pediculus humanus capitus, infests only the hairs of the head. The body louse, P. h. humanus, is a subspecies in the same species as the head louse which, interestingly, is believed to have evolved from it only after we began to wear clothes. Some workers in Germany have looked at the DNA of head lice and body lice to see when they diverged, with a view to dating the invention of clothes. They put it at 72,000 years, plus or minus 42,000. [p. 266]

…it is undoubtedly true that styles of walking have a kind of contagiousness and are imitated because they are admired. The boarding school that I attended, Oundle in central England, had a ritual whereby the senior boys paraded into the chapel after the rest of us were in our places. Their mutually imitated style of walking, a mixture of swagger and lumbering roll (which I now, as a student of animal behaviour and a colleague of Desmond Morris, recognise as a dominance display) was so characteristic and idiosyncratic that my father, who saw it once a term on Parents’ Day, gave it a name, ‘the Oundle Roll’. The socially observant writer Tom Wolfe has named a particular loose-limbed gait of American dudes, fashionable in a certain social sector, the Pimp Roll. At the time of writing, the abject sycophancy of the British Prime Minister to the US President has earned him the title ‘Bush’s Poodle’. Several commentators have noticed that, especially when in his company, he imitates Bush’s macho ‘cowboy swagger’, with arms held out to the sides as though ready to reach for two pistols. [p. 269]

[The extinct] Moas are extreme among flightless birds in that they have no trace of wings at all, not even buried vestiges of wing bones. They thrived in both the North and South Islands of New Zealand until the recent invasion by the Maori people, about 1250 AD. Thy were easy prey, no doubt for the same reason as the dodo. Except for the (extinct) Haast’s eagle, the largest eagle ever to have lived, they had known no predators for tens of milions of years, and the Maoris slaughtered them all, eating the choicer parts and discarding the rest, belying, not for the first time, the wishful myth of the noble savage living in respectful harmony with his environment. [p. 280]

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^*I’m not rushing to agree with Dawkins that it’s a “lame way” to “define an animal”. True, he would like names that imply some sort of fundamental biological or evolutionary connection between the members of the group, which seems desirable, but since I incline to the view that “science is what scientists do”, I’m less troubled by the idea behind the name ‘herp’.