Saturday, August 28, 2021

Neanderthals come out of the shadows

kw: book reviews, nonfiction, anthropology, archaeology, neanderthals

Le Monde published an article about a decade ago when it was becoming clear that most of us have a few percent of Neanderthal DNA. In other words, the Neanderthals weren't necessarily "wiped out" by Cro-Magnons (archaic humans) but more likely were assimilated.

The facial features of both figures are exaggerated. All but a few scientists are still shaking off the prejudice against Neanderthals, that they were degraded ape-men, which is how they were portrayed for at least a century and a half.

I can think of no better education in the reality of Neanderthals, as now known (and more is yet to be learned!), than Kindred: Neanderthal Life, Love, Death and Art by Rebecca Wragg Sykes. The book is big (400pp), and I read it closely, which explains the long delay since my last review.

In the Acknowledgements and elsewhere, Dr. Sykes credits the novels of Jean Auel with first kindling her interest in archaeology and Neanderthals in particular. I've read a couple of them also, and I recall thinking, "I bet the real Neanderthals weren't as hidebound as they are portrayed." In Kindred we find that they were definitely not that hidebound, but rather creative, innovative, explorative… in short, fully on a par with "us". It is most likely an accident of history that those we call Neanderthals are not the archaeologists wondering about the demise of "those inferior, skinny, flat-faced Cro-Magnons".

Inside the front cover of Kindred we find a map showing 99 locations of Neanderthal remains, from northeast Siberia to Gibraltar. These are selected from quite a longer list. Inside the back cover, a very tentative breeding tree shows how both Neanderthal and Denisovan DNA might have become incorporated in the DNA of modern humans. Astonishingly, one fossil has been shown to be a first-generation offspring of a Denisovan father and a Neanderthal mother.

Our current knowledge of Denisovans, other than the DNA results, is about at the level that the Neanderthals were known in 1860, except no decent skulls have been found. Stay tuned!

I must confine myself to a few items of note. Firstly, innovation and creativity. The tool kits (plural!) used by Neanderthals, and the ways they were at times mixed-and-matched, show that they were thinking about how to improve their stone tools, and sometimes bone tools.

Let me be clear: the main tools were stone, but the tools used to make the stone tools frequently included bones or certain kinds of bone fragments. This reminds me of the time I was a machinist. I was taught by a real master. Once he showed me a tool he was making—from scratch, beginning with a block of metal—that was intended to enable him to make the parts he had been assigned to produce. Then he showed me one of the tools he was using to make the new tool, saying, "First I had to figure out how to make this, so I could make the other one." We see that level of creativity in the stone tools Neanderthals made, in the stone and bone "retouchers" used to sharpen them, and in the tools used to produce the retouchers.

Tools made of less durable materials, such as wood used for spears, doesn't preserve well, so we have very, very few non-stone and non-bone artifacts. Examining the stone "points" and "blades", however, and analyzing traces of adhesives on certain ones, we can surmise that Neanderthals had both thrusting and throwing spears, and also arrows. For example, a tiny 2 cm (3/4") point is no good on a spear; it had to be an arrow point. And the varying shapes indicate that Neanderthals were experimenting with the best way to make a small point that caused maximum loss of blood after penetrating; you want the struck animal to weaken quickly.

Secondly, what they did with the dead. The tremendous variety here indicates multiple groups of Neanderthals had cultural differences. In all cases, just as for us, the tragedy of a death, particularly an early death, is a hugely emotional period. The earlier assumption that they ignored their dead is dramatically off base. However, their responses to death ranged from apparently tender burial to dismemberment and the retention of "memorial pieces", and also consumption of portions of the deceased.

Thirdly, compassion. They also clearly helped those injured or ill among them, who sometimes survived terrible traumas by months or years; they could not have survived so long on their own.

Fourth and finally, food. Neanderthals were omnivores, as are all apes. They were perhaps more intensively carnivorous than the usual ape; this is true of certain human cultures also. We all know a Redneck or two who react to being offered a salad, "That's food my food eats!" But Neanderthals didn't just chase down woolly mammoths and spear them. They were much more likely to target horses in one part of Eurasia, cave bears in another, and deer and elk in another. They also ate birds, but the remains are ambiguous: were they killing birds to eat, or to use their feathers and claws symbolically (I could have gotten into Art, but I must refrain)? Coastal Neanderthals ate fish and mollusks and other offerings of the sea. Considering that most of the places they frequented near the coastlines are now 10-50m under water, it will take a lot of risky SCUBA archaeology to learn more in that direction. They also ate their vegetables. Because veggies don't have bones, researchers learn of the Neanderthal diet by analyzing the tartar on their teeth! Just as it is for us, a diet of exclusively lean meat is so imbalanced it can kill.

These are just a few of the subjects in the 16 chapters of Kindred. Do get this book and meet your kindred!

Afterword: I do have a quibble about language usage. Dr. Sykes is prone to writing sentences such as this one about weapons and the wounds they cause:

"Rather than being thrown, both wounds match experimental damage from being rammed in with a lunging action."

I don't recall ever throwing a wound, do you? Adding two words would save this dramatic solecism:

"Rather than being from thrown spears, both wounds match…"

Such mismatches of subject and predicate occur frequently. Dear Dr. Sykes, do spend some time with a grammarian. A couple of hours will do.

Thursday, August 19, 2021

These birds are almost too smart for their own good

 kw: book reviews, nonfiction, birds, ornithology, falcons, caracaras

According to my friends who study birds, when you net a bird, weigh it, perhaps take a blood sample, and let it go, it typically flutters off at high speed. Suppose your study subject is raven-sized, and when you have finished "processing" it and let it go, it doesn't speed away. It flutters to the ground, turns around, cocks its head and gives you a look like, "OK, what was that all about?"

In A Most Remarkable Creature: The Hidden Life and Epic Journey of the World's Smartest Birds of Prey, author Jonathan Meiburg opens a window for us into the lives of an amazing group of falcons, the caracaras.

Before reading this book, the term "caracara" meant to me the cara cara orange, a pink-fleshed navel orange. The only contact between oranges and the Striated Caracara shown here would be the orange "leggings"! The bird's scientific name is Phalcoboenus australis, of the family Falconidae.

Family Falconidae has three subfamilies. The largest group is the "true falcons" including the familiar Peregrine Falcon, seen here for comparison. To me the caracara has a somewhat more "eagle-ish" look.

There are 45 species of true falcon, nine of caracaras, and eight of "forest falcons", plus an enigmatic species that is probably also a forest falcon.

Of the three groups, the caracaras are clearly the most intelligent. They are playful, brash, and typically less fearful of humans than the others. They also are more likely to walk about than swoop any short distance, which is similar to some vultures.

For completeness, here is an illustration of Barred Forest Falcon, a painting from a field guide. They are hard to photograph in the wild.

The Striated Caracara is not the largest caracara, but it is larger than average, about the size of a raven. They mostly live on the western islands of the Falkland Islands, and further west on islands just off Tierra del Fuego.

They are omnivores, and their subfamily name is derived from an old generic term, Polyborus, which is a variant of "omnivore" or "eats everything. And they do. They eat carrion as often as live prey, and have been seen hanging around with vultures, and even mutually preening. They also eat berries and other plant materials.

The author was fortunate to be funded for several expeditions to study caracaras. While I didn't take count, I think he managed to see members of all nine species. But the Striated Caracara, called Johnny Rook in the Falklands, is his clear favorite. Note: "rook" is what the English call a crow, and perhaps "Johnny" was given because they are often found among Gentoo Penguins, also called Johnny Penguins.

During early parts of the Twentieth Century birds were captured in the Falklands by the Penguin King, Len Hill, and captive Johnny Rooks are to be found here and there all over the British Isles. Some escaped birds seem to be doing well, as we would expect for a smart omnivore that can take the cold of British winters, which are less severe than those of the Falklands. Individuals of other species of caracara are found living ferally in North America.

Caracaras that haven't been taken elsewhere are almost totally endemic to South America; a few northern species are also found in Central America and southern Mexico. In fact, the Crested Caracara, Caracara plancus, may be the prototype of the Mexican Eagle depicted on the country's flag and on its coins, rather than the Golden Eagle as we are usually told. This picture of the bird is suggestive, though the coloration is different from that on the flag.

The intelligence, boldness and fearlessness of caracaras, at least of most species, makes them interesting performers in bird shows. Perhaps you've been to a "bird of prey" show at which a hawk or falcon has been trained to fly to someone in the audience holding up a dollar bill, and bring it back to the trainer (who will thank them for the tip). If a Johnny Rook is performing, it can be trained to take the dollar to a slot in a vending machine and slip it inside, something no other bird can manage.

In a place or two the author calls the Johnny Rook "the most human of birds," and in many ways that seems to be true. They like to hang about near humans, though the bond is usually to our ability to provide food, even by accident (That is how our house cat relates to us). But sometimes there is a bond of affection, and some residents of the Falklands would agree. Whatever the case, reading this book took me to places I didn't know existed, both biologically and geographically. An excellent read.

Thursday, August 12, 2021

Can and Can't versus Did or Didn't

kw: book reviews, nonfiction, physics, constructor theory, counterfactuals

When I saw the title of The Science of Can and Can't: A Physicist's Journey Through the Land of Counterfactuals, by Chiara Marletto, I was intrigued. I wondered whether it would be a diatribe against pseudoscience (where we most frequently encounter the word "counterfactual") or an explanation of something new. Thankfully, it is the latter.

Dr. Marletto is a disciple of Dr. David Deutsch, and together they are trying to reformulate physics. That's a tall order, but it's about time. A couple of generations have passed since the clash between the General Theory of Relativity and Quantum Theory became evident…perhaps it is better to say, the best explanations of these two theories definitely clash. It is not known whether the General Relativistic principles and Quantum principles indeed clash, or somehow mesh. If they clash, one must eventually be superseded, or both.

Studying the subject on the side I found that Dr. Deutsch presented his earliest ideas on the subject under the title Constructor Theory. I suggest reading the Wikipedia article Constructor Theory before reading the book, to get a grounding there. Then the book will be easier going. For a deeper dive, see the Constructor Theory web site.

Strangely, the words "constructor theory" do not appear in the book. Instead, the subject that previously had less emphasis has taken center stage: "Counterfactuals." I hope a better term can be found, but it may not be possible. Here is why I think so.

As an adjective, counterfactual refers to something that is not true, it is "contrary to fact." As a noun, a counterfactual is a conjecture about what might happen if something were changed, "Could a kangaroo jump if its tail were removed?" Whether the animal can still jump, you don't have a kangaroo any more, but a ruined kangaroo.

As used in the book, "counterfactual" partakes of the latter meaning, but does not extend it to "ruined" systems. Rather, a counterfactual is a statement about what is provably possible and what is provably impossible about a system, and Dr. Marletto calls it the Science of Can and Can't. Though this is never stated, it is placed in apposition to physics theory as a Science of Did and Didn't. We develop hypotheses by doing experiments and making observations about what Did happen and what Didn't happen. One or more hypotheses can be tested until we have a sufficient collection of happenings, or failures to happen, to enable us to propose a theory, or an explanation for the successes and failures of our experiments and observations. Based on the theory we can make predictions about the outcomes of experiments not yet done. Doing those experiments, assuming we have the means to do so, will either tend to confirm or refute the theory.

How does this relate to a counterfactual (or whatever it will eventually be called)? The counterfactual states what is possible or not possible for the system. It goes beyond the observations. Therefore, "counterfactual" is taken to mean, "Facts to be discovered in the future are expected to conform to this." It is a more powerful idea than it sounds at first. However, because of the on-the-street connotation of "counterfactual = false", I hope a different term can be devised. I tried to think of terms including the Latin root "potens-", for potential, because a counterfactual expresses the potential range of effect for a system, and sets its limits also. I didn't get far. Don't hold your breath; it isn't easy to find a euphonious term for this powerful concept.

This concept, that "Can and Can't" goes beyond "Did and Didn't" leads to the key focus of the book. Systems that have been considered outside the realm of "good physics", such as information theory and thermodynamics, can be analyzed using counterfactuals. The author claims that, using counterfactuals, exact statements can be propounded, while using traditional physics, the statements are approximations. Info theory and thermo and a few other systems larger than quanta are analyzed in the book, to discern the qualities that make them unique. For example, what was earlier called a Constructor is called in the book a Catalyst, generalizing the chemical term to mean any system that induces a change to another system and is either not changed or is returned to its initial condition afterward. Thus a thermodynamic engine can transform heat energy into motion but is not changed in the process; it is, in the most general terms, a catalyst for such a conversion.

The simplest system (in one view) treated is Information. A system such as a switch, or transistor, or coin (to be flipped) can carry information, and larger aggregates of such items can carry more information. Information has two counterfactual properties, Set and Copy. Turning a lamp on or off, or setting a coin to show heads or tails, is a Set operation. Information transfer refers to performing a Copy operation, so that the information is duplicated. When you see a lamp's light appear it causes a change in your brain: When the lamp was the steeple lantern and the brain was Paul Revere's, he began his ride to announce, "The British are coming!" (and if a second lamp was on it indicated a coastal invasion). The information system of the lamps was Set to send a certain signal, and the information was Copied to Paul, who further copied it by announcing it, loudly, as he rode.

Why does this have anything to do with counterfactuals? Because there is nothing in particle physics, quantum mechanics, and so forth, that delimits information. Set and Copy are characteristics of systems bigger than the particles dealt with the the Standard Model and the Modern Synthesis.

One way I began to think about "standard physics" related it to the gears on a bicycle. If you have a 3-sprocket cluster at the pedal and a 6-sprocket cluster at the wheel, you can choose among 18 gears. That's a lot more than the single-speed bicycle I used as a child, or the 3-speed bicycle I used as a teen. But it still has limitations. If you want to study bicycle locomotion, your observations will be limited to the gears available.

Then, suppose you think, what kind of versatility could I have if there were many gears, thousands, perhaps? Keep thinking along those lines and you begin to wonder about a continuously variable "gear" system.

This Evans Cone Drive, patented in 1880 and used in machine shops for some decades thereafter (a few are still in use; this one is in Delaware at the Hagley Museum machine shop. I used it when I was a docent there), has a range of speeds of 16:1. The effective ratio is set by moving the leather belt right or left. This idea is behind the CVT transmissions used in Toyota Corollas, some BMW models, and a few other autos, plus many snowmobiles. This Drive has the counterintuitive quality that it yields an essentially infinite number of "gears" by doing away with the gears! Dear author, if you run across this review, and you like this example, you are free to use it.

It is early days for Constructor Theory. Drs. Deutsch and Marletto are just getting their feet wet. Perhaps a revolution in physics is on the horizon. They think so. This book might be the infant's cry of a new take on physics.

Friday, August 06, 2021

Gross alert – made you look!

kw: book reviews, nonfiction, science, discomfort

When our son was eight, he and the grandchildren of a neighbor were playing together in the back yard. I went to the other end of the yard because I saw something red and gray. I found parts of a female cardinal that a hawk had eaten. One part was a severed lower leg, including the foot. A bone and tendons were sticking out. I called the kids over. I held up the foot by the leg bone and pulled on a tendon. The claws curled. A girl said, "Cool!" I said to our son, "That's the girl for you." Years later he married a young woman who is equally unflappable.

Early last year a hawk struck again, leaving these wings of a gull, still attached to the collar bones. We never found other parts of the gull. The rest was probably carried off after the heavy wings were detached.

No matter where we live, we are going to encounter death, usually many times. We also encounter other things that might gross us out: dog poop on the front sidewalk (in some cities, it could be people poop); half a worm in an apple; a public swimming pool with a distinctly greenish tint; even a case of worms from eating sushi or sashimi at the wrong establishment.

When a dead animal is found in our yard, or dog poop on the lawn (or sidewalk), my wife insists that I clean it up. She's more squeamish than the girl next door (or our daughter-in-law). The squeamish among us might benefit from reading Gory Details: Adventures From the Dark Side of Science by Erika Engelhaupt. Then again, maybe not. Don't let me push you into feeding your nightmares! But it may be of help.

We must recognize that life is messy and frequently gross. This point is made several times in the book, which is largely expanded essays from the author's blog for National Geographic, Gory Details. We may try to insulate ourselves from nature's messiness, but even our own bodies betray us. Most of us clean up our own "bathroom leavings", although the state of many public rest rooms indicates a good many folks are lax in that regard. We do so because we have to. If we want to eat, we are certain to eliminate. The alternative is to become an emaciated, stinking corpse. Well, we're going to become a corpse someday, anyway, but why hurry the process?

Disgust is universal. Things that cause disgust are partly built-in and partly cultural. A relative who was a missionary once said, "You need to be able to eat whatever your hosts put in front of you, without hesitation. Otherwise, don't go to the mission field." Her mission field was New Guinea when it was first opened to Westerners. She ate some stuff, like live grubs rolled in hot fat and taro meal, that most of us pampered folk can hardly bear to see anyone else eat, let alone be willing to take it in hand and gulp down. Disgust warns us that something is probably unhealthy to take in. But we add taboos and restrictions for other reasons, often based on someone who got sick after eating something, but not necessarily because of eating that something.

More and better knowledge can help us overcome queasiness at eating bugs, or getting "something" on our skin, or disposing of road kill. That is a good secondary purpose of Gory Details. Its primary purpose is to demystify many things that bother us, and help us learn "what's really going on." For example, in the chapter "Sniffing Out Sickness" we find that it's a good idea to get familiar with the scents of our loved ones. A change in that scent (besides the usual changes that accompany puberty) can be an indication of a medical condition that needs to be checked. While there are trained diabetes-sniffing dogs, for example, someone's sibling or parent or child is about as good as the dog, if they'll take the time to learn to smell. Strong odors and aromas reach nearly all of us. We need practice to discern more subtle scents.

A bit of advice from "I've Got You Under My Skin": if a bug gets in your ear, get a doctor's help to remove it without killing it. A dead bug in your ear rots pretty quickly, and if it is broken open (squashed), it is likely to have internal bacteria that could cause a lot of harm.

There are also chapters on vagaries of the mind, such as the poor folks who believe ants or other insects are crawling on them or burrowing in their skin. Some do themselves a lot of damage trying to dig out "samples" to show a doctor to prove that they are infested. There are several ways our minds can play tricks on us, and we learn of doctors who have effective (if not all that rapid) treatments in "The Invisibugs". Then, why are clowns so creepy? Why does the current generation only think of evil clowns, forgetting Bozo or Ronald McDonald? The chapter "Back Off, Bozo" has a partial explanation, in the "uncanny valley" that makes us recoil from, for example, robots that are really, really close to humanoid, but aren't quite there yet. Less realistic, "cute" robots get a better reception; we don't feel like they are trying to fool us.

Some people can't tell the difference anyway. A sad condition known as prosopagnosia, or face-blindness, prevents about a percent of people from recognizing even those they know well. At the other end of the spectrum are some "super recognizers", who do well scanning security video for known "persons of interest". It made me wonder if there are also those who are exceptionally good at recognizing someone not from the face, but bodily habits such as they way they walk, or gesture and so forth. How often have you seen someone you know at a distance too great to see their face, but knew who it was anyway?

Oh, and that green swimming pool? Of course there's pee in there. A large community pool could have 20 gallons of pee by the end of a day; a back yard in-ground pool gains a gallon or two per pool party. But urban legends of a chemical that turns red or blue around you if you pee in the water just aren't so. Urea is hard to detect with chemical indicators. But the burning eyes I used to get when I was on the swim team weren't just because of the chlorine. The chlorine in the pool reacts with urea to form a more potent, eye-stinging chemical. So use swim goggles. Now you see why they want you to shower both before and after using the pool at the Y. And don't drink the water.

I hope lots of folks like this book as much as I did. And if it helps a few of us get over some of our bad feelings, even better.