How to bake a human

Al Denelsbeck

Walkabout podcast – How to bake a human

I probably shouldn’t ever look at the searches that get linked here because of that title. Be patient, and it will become clear what it means.

I have, on numerous previous occasions, examined the various drives and emotions that we have from an evolutionary perspective – for instance, that morality is (almost certainly) an offshoot of inherent traits that make us a social species. We’re not individuals; we need others around, we seek their approval, and we see importance in community. It’s hard to argue that these did not benefit us hugely, and if we had the ability to abandon them right now and become as individualistic as reptiles, we would vanish from this planet in a short period of time, mostly because our offspring are pathetically helpless. But I haven’t tackled another aspect as often as I think I should have, so it’s time to look at humans as violent, selfish, and competitive.

If, right off the bat, that sentence made you uncomfortable or even defensive, good. That means your own traits towards community are stronger than the competitive traits. Yet, we cannot deny that we have them, even when we deny how often they manifest, or rationalize them as they do. The tricky thing about finding them distasteful is that we try to ignore or minimize them, instead of recognizing that they not only exist, they have strong affects on our decision-making processes.

First, let’s look at competition. Natural selection is a ‘competitive’ process, in that it on average promotes beneficial traits, weeding out those less beneficial or even harmful. I placed emphasis on the word “competitive” in the previous sentence to help differentiate it from the assumption that it implies a goal, rather than a process as simple as water vapor in the atmosphere collecting together until it’s heavy enough to overcome gravity as rain. The path that any species takes in developing over thousands of generations is guided only by out-reproducing others of the same species with slightly different genetic makeup. There’s no ‘goal’ possible; what results is simply what was more efficient from among the existing variables.

But then, there’s a curious development of sexual reproduction, where individuals start to actively choose which mate to have. This tiny change in attitude, this internal desire to be selective, is responsible for accelerating the selection process well above, for instance, random mating. Closely related comes the aspect of competing for favor, and this time the word does imply a goal, and specific activity. It is in any individual’s best genetic interest to reproduce, at the expense of other mate choices. It’s still natural selection, because no species can change their genetic makeup, and the traits selected as portraying a better mate are beneficial to the species – again, on average.

We cannot think of this in terms that are too simple, though. Kin selection is the idea that competitive traits (as well as cooperative traits) are very likely shared by members of our immediate family, so competition isn’t necessarily limited to the individual. For the millions of years that led to humans as we are now, life was a nomadic existence in small tribes or clans, very likely made up of closely-related individuals, so the social traits that we developed, allowing pack hunting and child care and even farming, also contributed to both survival and reproduction.

The other side of this is encountering another clan or tribe. They would not have the same genes, so selecting mates from outside the tribe isn’t as likely to promote the same genetic makeup, ‘watering it down’ and taking the chance that our own genes lose out to another more dominant collection. By nature, kin selection would be stronger – and by nature, desiring to maintain kin selection would be stronger too. Competition, at this point, extends beyond just mating behavior to the idea of the tribe or clan as a unit.

The difficulty herein is that selection has not, at least yet, produced something that is very specific. We still have the ability to decide what constitutes our ‘clan,’ whether it be our family, our alma mater or home sports team, our church, our country – whatever. At different times it flips back and forth, as we compete fiercely against our neighbor over social decorum but bond as a nation if we perceive a threat from outside that imaginary boundary. The key word there is “perceive,” because in reality there is precious little that actually constitutes a threat to us, especially to either our survival or our genetic heritage. And the clan perception is also arbitrary, since we cannot walk up to a state line and see the difference on the other side, nor even tell whether someone ‘over there’ is a native or visitor. Racism is such a prevalent trait in our species, despite the fact that we are all the same race, because by sight we can determine that someone is not from our immediate clan. It’s not that this has a rational meaning, any more than ‘our’ sports team, it’s only a vague way that we have been encouraged by our development to favor our own genes.

The really funny thing is, asexual reproduction, which does not require mating and thus does not mix genetic lines, fares less well that sexual reproduction, so we actually benefit from mixing. Seem contradictory? It is, to an extent, but again, random mating does not promote beneficial traits as well as selective mating. We tend to think in terms of what’s best and aim high, but selection can only use the choices available, which might provide a minuscule advantage that barely registers. An average benefit overall can still contain examples of extreme, even fatal, detriments – and in fact, we can find these easily. They’re just outnumbered by the beneficial traits.

In an earlier post, I mentioned that there are two kinds of competition, even though this may be simplifying things a bit too much: there is improving oneself, as in Olympic sports, and then there is the aggressive response, as in removing a threat. Ideally, we should concentrate on improving ourselves, since it’s hard to argue that this is not beneficial. But going back to the sexual selection idea (especially if we consider other species,) both can work. Whether an individual, built by their genes, is honestly better than all other suitors, or merely succeeds in chasing off other suitors, either way it gets to pass along its genes. The tribe or clan that did better in the hunt can also thrive by avoiding raids from other tribes, protecting those hard-won resources; alternately, stealing from others may at times be easier than hunting on one’s own. This sounds nasty, but it occurs frequently – bald eagles (which I take a certain perverse delight in pointing out serve as our national symbol) often nest near other species of fishing raptors and harass them into dropping their catches, gaining an easier meal than hefting their vast bulk out over the water in pursuit of their own fish. The smaller raptors expend less energy in catching meals and can thrive without eating everything that they capture. Again, our developed traits make us uncomfortable with this, but it still works.

The biggest issues, in our societies, stem from being prompted by these internal systems but not having a good way of differentiating the useful manifestations from the misfires. The “illegal alien” that crosses the imaginary line of our country is not any more or less likely to steal our jobs or taxpayer money than the newborn two doors away. The idiot driver that cuts us off on the road, while both dangerous and stupid, has not stolen our mate, job, food, or anything else, and only defines themself as someone we don’t want in our tribe, mostly because they did not display any community feelings towards us. So did we select them as ‘outsiders,’ or did they? Who cares? It’s total nonsense, prompted only by emotional reactions that are far too vague to be functional in the circumstance.

This desire to define the tribe is stronger than one might initially think; we draw lines all over the place, from political parties to social leeches, jocks to nerds, bitches to princesses (either of which, in our weird culture, can be compliments or insults)… and most especially, good to evil. These words are almost meaningless, but what we hope to express with them is ‘beneficial’ or ‘detrimental.’ A significant problem is that we draw these lines, and are quick to place someone else on the far side, but social interactions are never about just two choices, nor is labeling very accurate. If you’re coming to the conclusion that our two-sided thinking is another evolved trait, well, you might be right. Evolutionary psychology is, however, a haphazard field because it’s extremely difficult to tell what happened in the past, and what genes even promote certain types of thinking – we don’t even know where in the brain this might be seated, if it’s specific at all. And then there are the deep-seated cultural influences which are impossible to remove from any set of test subjects, meaning that any behavior may have nothing whatsoever to do with genes. Suffice to say, however, that falling for the “either/or” idea can make our decisions simplistic and wildly inaccurate, doing a huge disservice to the nuanced brains we tend to be very proud of otherwise.

Our brains rely, very strongly, on the emotional reactions that color every last bit of input – much as we might not like it, we are still creatures of instinct, even when those instincts are haphazard and have developed solely for other purposes. Yet, we have the ability to form rational decisions as well, and our desire to do so is also a trait, and an emotional system itself – all desire is. Yes, this does actually mean that we have an emotional encouragement not to rely on emotional encouragements, which helps to explain why rationalization occurs so rampantly in our species, even though the process itself sounds self-excluding. Yet we can override initial emotional reactions very easily, if we recognize that they’re not useful – ‘bad’ rather than ‘good.’ And this brings us around to the labeling thing again, because we always want to believe that we are good. What this really boils down to is that we feel it’s important to pass on our own genes. The abstract ideas of ‘good’ and ‘bad,’ or for preference ‘benefit’ and ‘detriment,’ should apply to actions and even decisions, because that’s the only way that benefit and detriment can apply. We can label ourselves, and others, with any concept we imagine, but this has absolutely no meaning to anything unless it can produce some specific change.

There are no rules that are going to come out of this; we cannot rationally say, “competition should only be expressed as forms of improvement,” because, at times, we really do need to protect ourselves and our families, even from members of our own species. Actually, that sentence is wildly misleading; it is almost entirely, by a huge margin, from members of our own species. It is this realization that, hopefully, can make us recognize that our evolved traits can often be more erratic than a rational approach, and our biggest saving grace is that we have a desire for rationality as well. We don’t get to choose the ingredients that evolution hands us, but we do have control over how much of each that we use to generate a successful recipe.

I need to tack on some thoughts here. Several places within this post I pointed out how evolution has produced some traits that can lead to less-than-reputable behavior such as racism. All too often, there are those who will take this to mean that we are destined or ‘meant’ to behave in this manner, and shouldn’t fight it. This confuses the vague emotional prods within our brains with specific instructions for behavior, as well as ignoring the traits that we have for social cohesion and ‘fairness.’ What we have within are very basic positive and negative reward systems, responses that can be triggered by a wide variety of stimuli – and these stimuli can also change, as indicated by how much our cultures have changed over the years, far faster than our species could possibly have evolved different responses. Some of this comes from different impressions or assumptions, such as how a once-liked actor or politician reveals through some action that they are not as we believed, and some of it comes from whether those around us approve or disapprove; the desire to ‘fit in’ overrides the desire to draw the “us/them” line where we once had it.

Note, too, that evolution works on two immediate aspects: the reproductive angle, where the continuance of the genetic line (or not) is part of selection; and the survival angle, where the individual must live long enough to reproduce. If you want to consider this the same thing, that’s fine, but it does mean that survival still depends on having enough cooperative individuals in one place to maintain the group benefit. Someone not viable as a mating choice to continue the genetic heritage (someone of the same gender, for a crazy example) can still assist with survival.

And then, there’s the ‘average benefit’ point, meaning that not every trait that we have is beneficial, or refined as much as it could be – we are not a finished product. When we can clearly see that some action or attitude is not going in a useful direction, we can easily halt it, and even develop those new perspectives outlined above. This is what critical thinking is intended to accomplish, and the very first part of it is pausing and wondering if some behavior is indeed considered and/or beneficial, or simply a reaction. Once this process is engaged, many of the little foibles that we evolved to possess, or that we misinterpret, can be overcome, rising above the simplistic function of reproductive success. This is the nice thing about brains and, curiously, how they evolved to be.

The trend begins

Al Denelsbeck

Daring
Last year was largely devoted to arthropods, even though I’m not actually trying to limit myself – they were just what I had the greatest opportunities to tackle. And it seems this year may be largely the same.

The same holly trees that appeared here have been playing host to several specimens of crab spider, all the same species as near as I can tell. And what species is something that I cannot, as yet, provide – most of the Thomisidae family are brown, and my model isn’t really sporting many defining characteristics, is it? Some faint dorso-lateral stripes, or at least I think that’s the term I want – I’m not an entomologist, I just play one in a small jazz band on weekends. The fly seen here actually intruded into the scene after I’d gotten the macro bellows set up, and I fired off the shot before I even leaned back to the viewfinder to see if it was in the frame; once the camera is on the tripod and locked into focus, you can fire off frames with the flash in different positions without having to be behind the camera. So this is a lucky capture, especially since the fly departed before I got the chance to confirm the framing.

The next one is not the same spider, but half-a-meter away on the same plant.
Dared
Before I’d even fetched the tripod and bellows, I’d spotted both specimens, and I’m not sure this one had made its capture then – it was a nice discovery as I was setting up. Even though the tip of a closer holly leaf is partially in the way, I’m pleased that the flash angle was sufficient to capture the dragline, the little bit of safety web that most spiders maintain routinely. It allows them to throw themselves off of their perch if danger threatens, and still return without having to climb the entire holly tree again. I’ve taken advantage of this trait many times, because it allows me to collect a specimen by catching the dragline as it bungees away. In fact, if the position on the tree is any criteria, I did just that with my model at top yesterday, who bailed as I got too close with a different lens (hoping for a nice eye-to-eye-to-eye-to-eye shot.) As it descended on the web strand, I caught the line and reeled it in, lifting it back up to my level and, more by chance than anything, depositing it back into the exact same position it had launched from. This might have been utterly confusing to the spider, producing some esoteric theories about the curvature of space-time, had it possessed the brainpower; I suspect this is a little beyond their abilities, however.

Both specimens about 4mm in body length. Macro bellows at unrecorded extension with Vivitar 135mm 2.8 at f16, Metz 40 MZ-3i flash off-camera.

Sunny days in early spring

Al Denelsbeck

0313RSH2
0313RSH1They make the red-shouldered hawks (Buteo lineatus) go into courting mode. The hawks are easy to spot because they’re anything but quiet about it, as indicated by the open mouths.

I’m fairly certain the perched one here is the same female I’ve photographed in the past couple of years (her belly, seen in shots not good enough to keep this time, is distinctively red overall,) but the flying male appears new. No signs of the nest yet, but I’ma keep lookin’.

That’s all.

History, folklore, or rumor?

Al Denelsbeck2 Comments

This is an examination on stories, assumptions, and filling in the blanks, which changed as I was writing it.

I grew up on the northern tip of Cayuga Lake, one of the Finger Lakes of central New York, and right down where my street ended at the lake’s edge sits an historical marker telling of a former bridge across the lake from colonial times. Standing there and looking out over the water, this seems an impressive feat since the bridge would have stretched almost exactly a mile (1.6 kilometers,) no small task before the industrial revolution. Looking at it from an aerial view, it’s easy to see the two roads that the bridge joined: West Genesee Street on the east side, and East Bayard Street on the west. You can see this yourself; just click here to get the placemark in Google Earth, or enter “42.918570 -76.729523” in Google Maps, Bing, or whatever online mapping service you prefer – this will put you right where the historical marker sits (within spitting distance, anyway.)

Make sure you’re in satellite/aerial view, zoom out to see the width of the lake, and you’ll probably see something else: a sporadically dotted line in the lake stretching between the two roads (this has different visibility depending on which method you use, but it shows remarkably well in Bing, and in Google Earth you can change the dates of the imagery to see different versions.) I initially took these to be pits in the lake bottom from the bridge supports, since darker generally means deeper, but Bing is detailed enough to show warning buoys alongside, so now I believe they’re the actual remnants of the pilings, shallow enough to pose a hazard to larger boats. The north end of the lake is shallow anyway, running less than two meters in places, so only recreational boats run outside the marked channels.

Now for the part I’m still researching. There are stories that, during the American Revolutionary War (1775-1783,) troops moving a large cannon across the bridge lost control of it and watched it go off the edge, and there it remains, too damn heavy to raise. Silt and water weed growth serve to obscure it at most times. I have heard that people thought of raising it, but it would be expensive and the cannon would automatically become property of the state as an historical object. Basically, the state wasn’t going to pay and no one else was tempted to, in effect, donate the effort and expense.

Recently, I started trying to find out more about this, since the last time I tried was long before the interwebs. And things started to fall apart a bit.

First off, the bridge wasn’t completed until 1800, which meant it never saw anything from the Revolutionary War, but the account might have referred instead to the War of 1812. Yet, while finding plenty of accounts regarding the bridge online, I can find nothing of the cannon – not a word.

So now we go back. The sole source of my knowledge of the cannon is… my dad. He worked with the local historical museum for a while, and I believed that this was his source, but couldn’t say for sure. Eventually I just called him. Turns out that most, if not all, of the information came from the director of the museum, since deceased, and near as can be determined, he received the information from a boater who had claimed to see the submerged cannon. I also recalled a story about a private pilot who had spotted it from the air, but my dad didn’t remember this bit.

Abruptly, my impression of this cannon went from local history/folklore to an unconfirmed account from a boater who may easily have been mistaken. Corroboration in any form is nonexistent, and there is no historical evidence that even hints at the event – where the details about the troops losing control of the cannon originated, I can do nothing but speculate. The director had expressed his intention to keep knowledge of the cannon quiet, lest it be raised or obtained by someone other than the museum, and may even have been influenced by early manifestations of the Alzheimer’s which colored his life only a few years later. I tried contacting the museum to see if anyone had any further information about it all, and received no reply.

This is the fun thing about folklore. While there is little reason to imagine someone made this up, what I grew up with as an established fact turned out to be nothing more than a vague story, narrowed down to only one source. Too often, the integrity of whomever relates such a story is considered important, sometimes the only thing that distinguishes it from a tall tale, but this is an aspect of human social interaction, an emotional reaction, and nothing that rationally promotes a story to the level of ‘evidence.’ Nor is there any useful way of producing more support for the story – about the best that I can come up with is some magnetic survey of the lake pegging a strong metallic deposit in the right location. The lake is a popular locale for fishing, swimming, and boating, so it seems likely someone else could have spotted it by now, but I’ve found no further accounts.

I had not only intended to do a serious article on the cannon, I had toyed with the idea of initiating more research, if not the actual raising of the artifact. Some people (‘journalists’ among them – yes, those are sneer-quotes) might be inclined to promote the vague story into something more substantial, some assumption that it was wholly accurate, but I’ve seen enough of that kind of bullshit and would rather encourage solid critical appraisal. One third-hand account isn’t enough to merit much more effort than this.

Now if it was a UFO, that’d be a different story … ;-)

10 tips from an expert

Al Denelsbeck

No, not me; I’m actually talking about an article by Andrew Evans called, “10 Tips for Photographing Wildlife in Galápagos.” Evans shoots for National Geographic Traveler, and thus has more cred than I’ll ever have. Definitely check out that article, because he’s got some decent points.

Of course, with a lead-in like that, it means the “but” is coming, and feel free to call me presumptuous. I’m not in radical disagreement with anything that he said, but there are some things that I think need some expansion or qualification – this is perhaps the curse of the word-limit and editor’s decisions, where the length of the article takes more precedence than treating the subject with vigor. I’m not limited by that here, for good or bad, so this might actually turn out longer than Evans’ piece. Inconceivable, I know…

Anyway, here’s a few comments. Under 1, Know Your Animals:

Before you start shooting pictures wildly, observe the animals closely.

No argument, except that I wouldn’t suggest you have to do this before you start shooting. Some behavior is sporadic, some appearances far too brief, as may be your time in that locale. Observation is a very important facet of wildlife photography, but if it takes the place of actually getting some shots, you may lose the one opportunity you had.

Tip 2 is Get Close, and this one definitely needs some qualification. Evans was speaking of photographing specifically in the Galápagos, which has conditions that aren’t found in too many other locations – it’s safe to say it’s an exception rather than typical. The animals there are both habituated to people and not terribly spooky to begin with – they’re also unlikely to display either dangerous territorial behavior or flee in panic. But getting too close to animals (Evans does qualify this, but only by stating the Galápagos Park’s 2-meter rule) can put the photographer in danger in many cases. Even more likely, however, is that the animal is simply scared off, and just their awareness of human presence is enough to change the behavior that may be seen. A better action is to go to places where the animals are used to close approaches, or to take advantage of situations where their reactions are different.

Adding to this, when you have a situation where a close approach is both safe and possible, this provides the opportunity to work on not just getting images of the animals, but creating the compositions and capturing the expressions that are so much harder in most conditions. Cooperative animals are very hard to find; use the chance to nail a better image.

Everything else he says in that tip, however, I am solidly behind, and I love the part where he says, “Good wildlife photography should make you sweat a bit.” Great thing to keep in mind.

Under 4, Be Patient:

Think, plan, get your camera settings ready and then go explore.

Emphasis on camera settings. Different conditions require different settings and approaches – even aiming from the ground to the sky means you should probably be changing at least exposure compensation. Most decent digital cameras have pre-programming functions, allowing the photographer to quickly change white-balance, saturation, contrast, etc. with just a click or three. Take advantage of these to cover the situations you’re most likely to find. And, know how to adjust for anything else you might encounter, preferably without having to refer to the manual.

And yes, 100% behind the bit about not rushing, and sticking around.

I have to add another perspective under 5, Show Motion. Evans suggests using rapid-fire shooting to capture action, which does have its uses – but it also suffers from gross misunderstanding as well. For instance, if there is a specific position or point of action that you want to capture, taking advantage of the camera’s frame-per-second rate and simply holding down the shutter release to fire off a bunch of frames isn’t likely to provide an advantage. Let’s say you have a high-end camera that can do 10 FPS, and you’re using a shutter speed of 1/250 second. That means, out of a second of action, you’ve captured only 1/25 of it. Hitting a baseball, or a heron’s fish-strike, takes up much less of a second, so even less likelihood of nailing the point you might really want to capture. Even if you want an image of a bird flying with its wings at their highest point, the wingbeat might simply match up with the frame rate and you capture the wings at the same point every time, and not a nice range of positions. So, there’s something to be said for being able to time just one frame for a chosen point of action.

Skipping down to 9, Don’t Multi-Task, we have:

Set specific photography goals—say, “This morning I’m going to try to capture a sea lion’s facial expression.” Then go out and get the shot.

Uhhhheeerrrmmnnn, yes and no. One of the surest ways to get frustrated with nature photography is to believe that not getting a shot means you failed. Too many variables are in effect that you have no control over, so not getting a shot can simply mean the odds didn’t go in your favor that day. There’s nothing wrong with staying focused and knowing what you want from an image, and avoiding distractions is good. But there’s also the idea of ignoring other shots in pursuit of the one you never captured, and this means your day’s yield falls to nothing. Some of the best frames that I have came from days when everything I’d planned went sour. Flexible focus is what I usually recommend.

And every time you miss a shot, learn from the experience, and try again tomorrow.

Once again, I consider the tips to be solid, and good advice overall. Nature & wildlife photography isn’t something to be learned from a checklist, but the right mindset can help a lot, and most of the tips apply to more than just the Galápagos. I’ve already expressed the issues I see with “eco” tourism and how the Galápagos would benefit more from staying away; there are plenty of places to find wildlife without contributing to negative environmental impact. But wherever you choose, the right habits are only going to help. Good luck!

Amateur naturalism, part six

Al Denelsbeck

It’s been a while since I tackled another aspect of this topic, but this is the right time of year for this one, so let’s delve into orphaned wildlife and rehabilitation.

I used to work in this field a fair amount, both in administration of wildlife organizations and as an active raptor [birds of prey] rehabilitator, plus I served as wildlife adviser in several different situations. So I’m familiar with most of the more common reactions people have when they find ‘orphaned,’ injured, and ill wildlife. It’s hard to give enough useful information without trying to cover every situation or alternative, so treat this as an overview. One thing that I especially want to emphasize here is that there is an immediate emotional response in most cases, which tries to override the advice given by those who work in the fields, so be aware of it. There isn’t an ‘instinct’ we might have that applies to wildlife, and the rational mind is the part that needs to take control.

Additionally, the amount of folklore regarding wildlife is not just abundant, in most cases it’s ridiculously wrong. I’m not even going to say, “If in doubt…,” because you should doubt right off the bat, and consider that most of what you’ve heard is highly suspect. This means, contact someone who is supposed to know, and go with their advice.

Number one rule, and I can’t repeat this enough: Don’t try to raise wildlife on your own. Their diets are specialized, their needs varied and specific to the species, and their adult behavior dependent on how they’re raised. This isn’t the place for guesswork or experimentation. Even if they seem to be ‘doing well’ (like the viral video of the guy raising a baby hummingbird,) they may have developmental issues from an improper diet or exercise, or simply have imprinted on the wrong species, and you are in essence just prolonging the death of the animal. In the US, it’s illegal to raise any species without a specific permit, and songbirds are federally protected. It’s possible to obtain these permits, and quite frankly encouraged, because there are few places with enough rehabbers, but if you’re going to do it, do it right. More further down.

So, we’re about to enter baby bird season, and this accounts for a large percentage of wildlife encounters. I’ll dispel the first myth that touching a baby bird will cause the mother to abandon it. Utter hogwash, pure and simple – yet, I don’t always discourage parents from teaching this to their children, because it’s one way to try and get kids to leave them alone, which is a good thing. Better, perhaps, to teach them to leave them alone for the right reasons, which is to avoid interrupting their feeding schedule, or injuring them, or thinking it would be neat to have a pet robin. But returning to the myth, baby birds will occasionally fall from the nest, and it’s perfectly fine to return them to it, and in fact this is recommended.

It doesn’t always work, however. Some species will discard young that are not doing well, and some even kick their own siblings out – this is nature’s method of selecting the most viable offspring, as ruthless as we find it, and we’re not going to change it. Basically, if it’s a baby bird not ready to leave the nest (not fledged; we’ll return to this,) put it back. If it keeps coming out, there may not be much you can do.

Can’t reach the nest? Try to find a way, first. If that’s not possible, occasionally the parents will accept a substitute nest, such as a plastic berry basket with soft tissue as bedding – this should be placed as close as possible to the original nest, firmly anchored so it doesn’t come down. Observe the nest carefully, but from a safe distance, for 30-60 minutes to see if the parents have indeed found the substitute. If not, seek out a rehabilitator or wildlife official.

Abandoned nest? Maybe, maybe not. Once the eggs hatch, the parent birds go into feeding mode, gathering food constantly during daylight hours and stopping at the nest for brief periods to jam it down the gullets of their ravenous progeny. The 30-60 minute rule above is because waiting less may mean you’ve simply missed the brief feeding period between the extended gathering periods. Observation has to be done at a distance that does not alarm the parents – minimum is six meters (yards,) and more is recommended. Also, being low key is paramount, so take a seat (with binoculars, for preference) and remain still and quiet. Yes, it’s boring, but it’s for the health of the offspring, and if you didn’t care about that you wouldn’t be reading ;-)

fledglingsAs the nestlings become fledglings, they abandon the nest on their own in learning how to fly. This does mean that they’ll be found unable to fly, fluttering around at low level and even just sitting there staring at you. This is normal, and they should remain undisturbed. The parents are nearby, providing food and encouraging the flight attempts. Most bird species know enough not to give away their progeny’s locations to predators, or draw attention to themselves by moving a lot, so your ability to approach, or not being attacked by angry parents when you do so, means nothing at all. Again, observation is good here, as is knowing the calls of the species in question – the parents may be coaching their young towards them.

Now, telling the difference in ‘nestlings’ and ‘fledglings.’ A nestling is a baby bird that must remain in the nest for a while; they will have few feathers, or perhaps even odd ‘quills,’ which is what the feathers look like as they are growing out. Unable to support itself? Eyes not open? Nestling. Fledglings are the babies that are ready to learn how to fly. Their feathers will have good coverage with little to no stragglers or ‘stuffing coming out’ (the baby down.) One rule I always used over the phone was to ask if there were tail feathers – if there are, they’re about ready to fly. These are fledglings and should only be observed.

If in doubt, contact a rehabber/official. This is before doing anything else, save for getting it out of immediate danger. No food, no water, nothing at all. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve heard people say, “We’ve tried giving it water and worms” – birds can aspirate the water if it’s not given the way the parents do (you’ve noticed the beak getting jammed halfway down the throat, right?) and only one species in North America eats earthworms. Again, folklore – ignore it and be safe.

Also, bleeding in birds is serious, no matter what. Birds have very thin blood that doesn’t coagulate easily, and they can bleed out quickly. Also note that those ‘quills’ of new feathers mentioned above have a blood supply for a while, and these can be broken and start bleeding as well. Time is important in such situations.

HappyOwletBaby raptors will tear you up – they know how to use the beak and talons very early (often on their siblings) and will not hesitate to protect themselves. And adult raptors will protect their young. This is where it’s best to leave it to the experienced.

And it may seem funny to have to say this, but baby birds do not look like their parents. Adult kestrels and screech owls, both diminutive raptors, are often considered “babies” when found by those not familiar with what a real juvenile looks like. Basic rule: if it has a smooth appearance and good coverage of feathers, it’s at least fledgling age, probably older.

What about mammals? This is a little different – mammals are generally not found away from their parents unless something has gone wrong. Most especially, if the youngster’s eyes aren’t open, they’re wet from the rain or dew, or if they’re cold or dehydrated, this is the time to contact someone. Test for dehydration by gently pinching up the skin over the shoulders or side in a ‘tent’ and releasing – if the skin takes more than a second to go back into position, this is dehydration.

Always use gloves. Juvenile mammals can certainly bite, and there’s an additional risk to this: rabies is active throughout much of North America. This is an invariably fatal disease once it passes a certain point (much more so than HIV,) so this needs to be taken seriously. It is not just the bite that can transmit it, but contact of an infected animal’s saliva with mucous membranes can introduce it as well, which means that picking up a damp animal and rubbing your eyes puts you at risk. Animals do not have to be showing symptoms to be infectious, and symptoms vary anyway. BE SAFE.

It’s not just rabies. Mammals are far more likely to introduce other zoonotic issues than birds – they’re enough like us that parasites (internal and external) and some viruses can be transmitted to us. Bringing them into the house may mean you just introduced fleas, lice, giardia, and so on into your home. You’ve been warned.

possumpeepingAlso, and it pains me to have to always say this, but cute does not mean safe. Any animal can defend itself. I have never been bitten by a raccoon, despite their aggressiveness, but I have a scar and a touch of nerve damage from a grey squirrel – one, moreover, that was raised in a house. Rabbits and mice can bite the hell out of you. Shrews even have a toxic saliva. Yes, I am trying to scare you – if you’re scared, you’re cautious, which is better than incautious.

In many cases, mammals about half of the adult size can be on their own without issues – they learn how to forage for their own food reasonably quickly. Again, the stillness thing doesn’t mean they’re lost – it may simply mean they’re trying not to attract attention. This is especially so for white-tailed deer fawns – they often curl up in the grass and conserve energy while mom forages, and will not move even when someone approaches – occasionally not even when picked up. Leave them be, and come back in a few hours. If they’re still there, that’s when you should contact someone.

Rabbits are notorious for abandoning the nest if it’s been disturbed, even with a full brood of young within. This is doubly hazardous because their nests are often in clumps of grass and can be inadvertently discovered by cleaning the yard. If it happens, immediately put everything back as it was, without touching the young, and place a few distinctive blades of grass across the nest opening (preferably something you can see from at least a short distance away,) then leave it entirely alone. Come back in a few hours and check to see if the grass has been moved. If it has, things are probably okay. If not, it may be time to check the warmth and hydration of the young. Contact a rehabilitator.

Again, trying to raise them yourself puts them at a high risk. This is especially true for rabbits, which are among the hardest mammals to raise in North America. I can’t count the number of people who have assured me that they did it once before, so “they know how to do it.” While this may be true, it ignores numerous things, such as how viable the released offspring were and whether they lasted longer than a month, whether they had developmental deficiencies because of improper nutrition, and even whether they had habituated to food or behavior that left them ill-prepared for their conditions. There is a shortage of rehabilitators, so believe me, if it was easy most people would be encouraged to tackle this on their own. The fact that not only is it discouraged, it is unlawful in most areas, should be a good indication that there’s something more to consider. And the welfare of the animal should take higher precedence than anyone’s ego.

Injured animals are extra dangerous. Yes, they may seem incapacitated or helpless, but you know what they say about appearances. One of my colleagues rashly checked an injured, near-comatose squirrel bare-handed, and it bit through her finger, joining its teeth together in the fleshy part of her index finger – I actually heard them grinding together. It then passed out without letting go. Animals in pain (even pets) often respond aggressively – they have no concept of your attempts to help them, and restraint can make them even more agitated. Deer can do vast amounts of damage by thrashing with their hooves, and the big waterfowl like herons and cranes can drive that beak into your face (and yes, they aim for effectiveness.) I really want to emphasize this, because the nurturing instincts are badly misplaced here, and extreme caution is necessary instead.

“There’s a nest of animals in my attic/crawlspace/walls and they need to be removed!” No. Most especially not when they’re raising young, which is most often when anyone notices them. Once the young are there, no further damage is going to be done to your house, because the parents are concentrating on raising their brood. Trying to relocate them is hazardous, both to the animals and to people in many cases, and pointless. Let them be, and in a few weeks the young will be old enough and move out on their own – about the only exception to this is bat colonies (more below.) Once there are no young to raise, the adult animals often leave on their own – nests are primarily for young – but they can also be encouraged to leave or stay out at that point. Squirrels are pretty bad about wanting to return to successful nest areas, and will even chew through wire mesh at times, but most others take the hint and find better places to live.

“But what about rabies?” Animals raising young, even in the eaves of your house, are not an especially high risk. Contrary to belief, rabies does not cause animals to leap suddenly out and attack people; those events are remarkably rare. While anyone should be quite cautious of any mammals that openly approach, living near them does not place anyone at special risk – you’re at greater risk of being killed by the tree near the house falling on you, and we won’t even talk about road risks. Like snake bites, most contacts with rabies vector wildlife occurs by people initiating the contact.

beaverspoor“Animals are doing damage to my property and need to be removed!” No. I can’t tell you how much this attitude annoys me, but that’s what a blog is for, right? Wildlife goes where the habitat is ideal, and pays no attention to humankind’s imaginary idea of “property.” First off, anyone should enjoy the opportunity to see behavior, something that is often hard to accomplish even when making the effort. If someone has wildlife around, chances are they aren’t in a high-rise apartment, which means they wanted to live with at least some vestige of nature visible; surprise surprise, it comes with other animals. While we might decry the damages to our gardens or landscaping, that’s part of the territory, just like road noise and power lines. Learn how to cope, and the ways to exclude animals from certain areas so we can have tomatoes. I’m sorry that a $500 tree was stripped, but no one should have planted something that was that appealing to the local species in the first place, and chances are, numerous appropriate trees had been cut down first so that the fancy landscaping could be put in its place (and I used to work for a landscaper, too.)

Trapping and removal is rarely effective. If there’s a habitat, someone else will move in. And wildlife populations have been shown through numerous studies to be fairly self-regulating; the issues come because habitat destruction by humans is not. We can put in housing developments much faster than the natural cycles of population reduction and management, and those displaced animals end up somewhere. They likely feel the same way about us – dread the point where they develop opposable thumbs.

But what about bats? Ah, the poor little guys! Much of our population considers them ugly and creepy, not at all helped by folklore and horror stories, yet bats are actually way cool mammals, and good to keep the insects down. But most species nest in colonies, and this does sometimes mean in attics, which can produce lots of guano (bat poop) and increases the risks of rabies exposure, primarily when one gets lost and ends up within the human spaces of the house. However, the damage that they can do is minuscule, since they do not dig or gnaw, and excluding them only takes 1/4″ hardware cloth (small-holed wire mesh.) Again, this should be done when no young are being raised, and should always be done with gloves and a breath mask (guano turns into dust easily and can be inhaled.) Should you find a bat in your house, contact your local animal control, since states differ on how they handle potential exposures.

I said I’d get to this: So you want to learn how to rehabilitate wildlife? Once again, this is actually encouraged, but like riding a motorcycle, it should be done properly and responsibly. If there isn’t a wildlife center or organization available in your area, contact your regional Wildlife Resource Commission office (for the US at least) to find out who in your area can train you, and most especially what permissions you need. In the US you’ll need at least one permit, possibly several. What you’ll mostly need is training, because any species requires a decent body of knowledge to tackle well – which also means pick a species, at least to start. Your local rehabbers can suggest a few, which might mean picking something you didn’t initially desire, but which is either easier to learn or presents the greatest needs within an area (and again, is this about you, or the animals?) Expect to spend a lot of time at it, since most animals need lots of attention – mammals may need feedings every four hours around the clock, and birds every 15-30 minutes during daylight (yes, I knew a songbird rehabilitator that kept baby birds in the desk drawers of her office.) And it’s almost certainly all coming out of your own pocket.
SquirrelFeeding

I feel obligated to say this, too: wild animals are not pets, and should not be raised as such. There are lots of reasons. The domesticated animals we have as pets, like cats and dogs and horses, have been bred that way for thousands of years and quite likely were chosen because they already had traits that assisted the process. Animals do not domesticate by simply raising them around people, and in many cases have behaviors that cause them to run afoul of our own (I mention once again the squirrel scar I bear, and will post that story later on.) Many animals also do not have diets that are easy for humans to replicate, meaning that they’re unlikely to thrive and may develop serious disabilities. But most distinctly, what we might imagine them to be like is rarely ever the case – they are highly unlikely to bond with humans in the slightest, and aren’t going to make good companions, do tricks, or even exhibit any appealing personality. They belong in the wild, and that should be your only goal.

Now, if the demands of rehabilitation are too much to contemplate, you can always volunteer with a local organization, and do rehabilitation on a rotation as your schedule permits. This helps prevent burnout and lets you have vacations and family emergencies. This also allows you to get involved without necessarily requiring the permits, because you can operate under the aegis of the organization and its own permits (which is how I worked with raptors, since my apartment would not fit the 15-meter flight cages required.) Still, expect to be dedicated to the job, even when it’s unsavory – cleaning cages and wounds, and even euthanizing injured animals, is a requisite part of it all. Not to mention how many species expect live or fresh food. If you’re thinking of cuddling fluffy bunnies, you’re not ready; rehab requires lots of ugly stuff, and very little bonding – they’re not pets, but wildlife, and need to be wild.

Or, simply donate money or materials. That works too, and is just as necessary – the nice thing about the subject is how nearly everyone can find a niche (provided they accept the reasonable expectations.) Despite such things as Wildlife Resource Commissions and the US Fish & Wildlife Service, there really isn’t money being put into wildlife rehab, especially not from a state or federal level. The vast majority of organizations run solely on donations and grants, and often even have to have veterinary services donated. Experienced workers are great, but donors are just as important, if not more so. Even people who can promote greater donations are important. Just about everything is grass-roots level, all of the time – the few exceptions are great, and demonstrations of what can be done, but not what you can expect throughout the field. Your help, whatever it is, will be appreciated.

A final note: find out, now, how to contact your local wildlife people. Before you find yourself with an injured owl on your hands. In some areas, it’s not self-evident or easy to find, and if it’s not a registered organization, you can forget about searching any telephone listings. Local animal control usually knows, and the 24-hour emergency vets. Often, 911 operators do not, and even local law enforcement may be stumped. A few minutes to get prepared can save a lot of hassle later on, and as I said, we’re entering baby season.

Hope this helps!

Put down the Dymo, Avery

Al Denelsbeck

Several recent posts and articles have highlighted a problem that I’ve seen far too many times from, quite frankly, people who should probably know better. It’s rampant within philosophy, and unfortunately, there are still too many who think philosophy is something to be revered, so it tends to cross over into other disciplines as well. For lack of a better way of describing it right now (which will be ironic as soon as I actually get around to mentioning what the hell I’m talking about,) I’m going to call it the Labeling Problem.

Basic premise: We are a species that likes definite answers. In the face of vague, ephemeral feelings or assumptions about how things work, we immediately want to apply a label to them: “consciousness” and “free will,” “socialism” and “dualism,” “science” and “morality.” This isn’t exactly a bad thing – our language would be even more tortured without easy terms to apply to complicated concepts – but each of those terms above, and many more besides, are so poorly defined that the moment anyone uses them, someone else has an entirely different idea what is meant by the usage. Very frequently, this means that endless discussions take place because no one seems capable of recognizing that they’re not working from the same premise.

The last two examples, “science” and “morality,” are the ones I’m going to highlight here. Long ago I settled on a basic definition of science – “a methodical process of learning” – and I have yet to see where this does not apply. That there is an alternate usage along the lines of “the body of knowledge gained from this process” – making science a thing rather than a function – only demonstrates why labels are difficult sometimes; make up another word, for dog’s sake! But because the definition of science floats around a bit, there are those who feel that science requires bubbling retorts and lab results, electronic machinery and microscopes, and this then allows them to feel that science should not, and can not, be used in realms such as morality. This curious perspective is reflected in the “is/ought” dilemma.

While there are myriad aspects of this dilemma, the overall idea is that science can tell us what is, the bare facts of anything, but shouldn’t/can’t tell us what actions we ought to take over them. Science can tell us that animals can feel pain, but not if it’s good or bad to kill them for food. This is true enough, but then again, there isn’t any other pursuit that fares any better, when it comes right down to it – and even demonstrating the failures of them all takes, believe it or not, science. In order to know whether or not one pursuit is more functional than another, you need empirical data, a body of information to provide something other than vague guesswork and emotional reactions. One person may not like causing animals pain, while another enjoys hunting, so there needs to be something more than just personal reactions to serve as a guideline.

Philosophy leaps heroically into the fray here, or so most philosophers seem to believe. The ‘ought’ issue can be decided with long debates! Sometimes, perhaps – it’s true that discussion of salient points or varying perspectives can cause people to change their minds, and I’d be in rampant denial if I tried to claim I don’t use this throughout the blog, much less this post. The effectiveness of this, to demonstrate that it really is a better method of approaching such subjects, still requires an accurate dataset though. Advertisers are quite well aware that compelling arguments don’t reach people one-tenth as effectively as pretty faces and appeals to base emotions (I’m all out of luck on that first part, I’m afraid.) So, is the philosophical approach effective? Well, those who like philosophy will tell you that it is.

And there we have the first inkling of an underlying issue. How we personally feel about something is paramount to the decisions we make, and the pursuits we tackle. We consider morality an important pursuit, but why? Because it’s a part of us as a species, a mental desire to – to do what? What exactly is the goal proposed by these vague feelings within us?

Well, I feel perfectly comfortable saying that there isn’t one, because these feelings are a byproduct of natural selection, an emergent property that simply worked a little better than not having it – there’s no goal involved, any more than water has a goal to run downhill. It simply occurred. Which also ties in with the problem of labeling it effectively. Our desire for “morality” is most likely a desire to maintain a cohesive tribal unit, since as a species we survive better in groups. Morality, after all, revolves around how we deal with others, and whether or not some action is considered “proper” more by them than by our individual selves. But note that this does not apply to everyone else, only those to whom we have a certain connection. The dividing line between our ‘tribe’ and outsiders is arbitrary, very often involving whether others try to do something bad to us. If our family survives, our genes pass on to offspring, which is the only way natural selection can work – but the survival of the tribe is often tied in with survival of the family, and the ‘tribe’ may end up extending across the continent, depending on who threatens us. It is exceptionally muddy, because it is exceptionally vague.

And from these vague feelings of protection, survival, and cohesiveness, we try to develop a rigorous definition of morality – at least in part because we don’t like vagueness, but want absolutes instead (likely another emergent property.) Mind you, it’s science that informs us how these feelings kick in, and explains why we even have them – religion, philosophy, and every other pursuit throughout the history of mankind all attempted, and all got it wrong. And we didn’t find them wrong by debate, assertion, or epiphany, but by comparing the data and performing experiments and tests. We see how altruism has some notable effects in groups of chimpanzees, and what happens when prides of lions intersect – very often, it’s not a matter of other species not possessing traits that we have, but instead possessing them to a different level or effect.

So we come to goals, what we want morality to accomplish, and where we think it’s lacking or ineffective. But, ineffective at what, again? That question, and the answer thereof, depends largely on how we feel about it. The emotional impetus that we define as ‘moral desire’ is what makes us dissatisfied with some state of affairs, and provokes us to improving things. From a rational standpoint, it’s hard to find anything wrong with such desires, so we’re probably safe with indulging them. And we realize that it’s not a rule that we’re following, not a definition that we’re trying to fit into, but a reaction to something that we find unacceptable; crime, poverty, war, class inequities, slavery, abuse, even poor parenting. There’s no way to list them all – we don’t know how to add to the list until we think of a situation and find out how it makes us feel.

Obviously, making a definitive set of rules or guidelines presents difficulties, because not everyone feels the same way. Yet we can always select a rational goal, such as eradicating world hunger, and realize that this will appease the inner turmoil among a large number of people. The emotions are goads towards behavior – not specific behaviors, mind you, and a lot of things may work to answer the internal call. So it’s not a definitive method of being moral that we need, but a way to recognize the desire for this and answer that desire effectively. We can only be driven by a goal if we already find that the goal answers the internal drives.

Let me provide an example. Human overpopulation is already a serious issue in numerous areas of our planet, and promises to be a major issue worldwide in the next century. So, pick any six people that you know, and tell them they cannot have babies, ever, for the good of the planet. See how many of them absolutely lose their shit. But, it’s a rational goal, isn’t it? Yet that really doesn’t matter when it’s fighting upstream against the internal drive to reproduce. What might work is to convince them, with lots of evidence and detail, that their child or grandchild will be among those that starve to death, or succumb to pandemics, or otherwise meet an undesirable fate. Or perhaps, that there are offsets that can be performed, actions that can be taken that provide a net positive effect against the negative impact of a child. While doing this, of course, there cannot be the slightest hint that someone else will be free from having to sacrifice their desires, or then it becomes a class duel, and victimhood takes a hold. Human interactions are complicated…

Here’s what’s funny, as a brief aside. Emotional reactions are often expressed, openly or just internally, as rational decisions – we like to believe that we consider things, rather than follow some automatic response, and this often results in some astounding rationalizations that fall far from actual rationality (just refer to any political discussion for an example.) But by merely mentioning that reproduction is a base drive of our species, someone can be prodded towards disregarding the emotional reaction and commence real consideration. Isn’t that great?

This may sound like philosophical debate, and in a way it is; such debates are often engaged in finding the particular perspective or emotional appeal that causes someone to change their stance on a topic. Randomly attempting arguments is far less effective than specifically targeting someone’s base desires, however, and often we need to think like the advertiser and find the hot button. The desire to reproduce does not come from philosophy, or religious instruction, or even rational consideration, but as a simple evolved trait, and we wouldn’t know this without having applied the methods of science to the issue.

What this comes down to isn’t the ridiculous question of whether ‘science’ can dictate ‘morality,’ but how we actually determine what is acceptable to us as a species, and how we can channel our evolved traits towards something we collectively approve of. It requires discarding age-old assumptions, labels, that are misleading in nature, and taking the time to recognize what’s really at work – and yes, that’s what science can tell us. We end up leaving behind the ‘ought’ concept, because no one can adequately define ought beyond what we want; instead, we can seek effective methods of fulfilling desires in ways that do not introduce other conflicts. Perhaps no less complicated than the interminable discussions before, but almost certainly much more usefully aimed.

And the only way we’ll know for sure is to quantify the results ;-)

The fine line between clever and stupid

Al Denelsbeck

Quite a few months back, perhaps as much as a few years ago, I started thinking about how and when I began to embrace critical thinking. I mentioned before that I used to believe in a whole lot of crap and gradually left it all behind, but was there some particular event that started this process? We like to believe that such things come in epiphanies and drama, which really isn’t the case most of the time; that’s Hollywood thinking. But it’s still true that sometimes there is a single event – something that we read, something insightful that someone says, an abrupt dose of perspective – that provides a new tool in our thinking processes. And just now, I think I might have remembered exactly what it was, or at least a significant one: Clever Hans.

In my adolescence, I had obtained an old book at a garage sale, one describing how to test the intelligence of animals; I’m fairly certain it was Animal IQ (since retitled) by Vance Packard. Testing the comparative reasoning powers of animals is rather tricky, because intelligence is not all that well defined in the first place, and reasoning power is relative to the environment. So even devising a test which gives a useful result takes effort, and within this section of the book, if I remember correctly, came the story of Clever Hans.

Clever Hans was a horse owned by Wilhelm von Osten in Berlin back around a century ago, who could apparently answer questions and perform math, even complicated calculations. Everything, of course, had to be answered by stamping a foreleg. If you’re thinking this sounds rather hackneyed, bear in mind that Hans was the case that created the cliché. In fact, the media attention around Hans’ purported abilities sparked a great deal of research into nonverbal cues and kinesics, because in fact it was owner von Osten that was providing the answers – Hans was simply taking his cues as he’d been taught. He just hadn’t been taught what von Osten was trying to teach.

While it’s not hard to find accounts referring to all of this as a hoax, that doesn’t appear to be the case – von Osten believed that Hans actually possessed superior (for a horse) reasoning powers and had been taught how to read and calculate. He was unaware himself of how Hans had instead learned how to read von Osten’s body language, the tense expectation that prompted the beginning of the hoof stamping, and the relaxation that prompted the halt – that was when he received his treats (and positive reinforcement remains one of the best methods of training animals.) Curiously, Hans may indeed have been different from the average horse, putting together the rewards with the unintentional cues from his owner, and it’s easy to see how this aspect could have been missed in contrast to what he was claimed to be capable of.

There was a significant demonstration of scientific methodology within the case, as well. Those testing Hans noticed that Hans was incapable of answering anything that the person posing the questions (it wasn’t always von Osten) could not answer, which became somewhat suspicious. The addition of a simple screen between horse and questioner brought on an immediate attack of standard horse intellect in Hans, and eventually revealed the horse’s ability to read the subtle cues provided by the questioner. Many, if not most, scientific experiments routinely use the same process of spotting anomalies, speculating on variations of cause, and then working to rule out as many as possible – those that cannot be ruled out obviously have the greatest probability of being correct.

Sometime after that, watching an inaptly-named television program called That’s Incredible!, I saw a dog that could answer math problems chalked on a blackboard – except that, armed with this knowledge now, it was exceptionally obvious how the owner was prompting the dog; three quick short barks, then each bark thereafter was drawn out almost into a growl, and upon reaching the correct number the owner would quickly interrupt. Anyone that has never heard of Hans and never engages in questioning could easily be fooled, and this is abundantly visible everywhere we look, from ‘psychic’ readers to political claims, ‘health’ food fads to revisionist history. In fact, Hans was performing a technique, still in routine use by even televised psychics, called ‘cold reading,’ which gives a rather damning indication of how easy it really is. Typically, as children we are taught to listen; we are rarely, if ever, taught to think or question. Which is, of course, why such simple tactics are successful in the first place.

If, however, we build on the process told within Hans’ story, we can see some of the further issues with determining ‘animal intelligence.’ Intelligence itself is a word largely expressing our conceited standpoint – any species that survives obviously has the properties necessary for that survival – but even from the standpoint of evaluating pattern-recognition, recall, and extrapolation, this runs dangerously close to value-judgments. It’s interesting to see where differences lie, and if there are portions of the brain that might be linked to certain kinds of cognitive function, but is a rabbit ‘smarter’ than a horse if if can remember certain patterns to receive rewards better? Or is it just an artifact of the demands of their environments?

The ability to even ask questions like that, to wonder if there are assumptions or blind perspectives influencing any conclusions, I can trace at least in part back to Clever Hans – which is being unkind, because it wasn’t the horse with the easy-to-remember name, but Oskar Pfungst, the assistant biologist who performed the tests, that provided the lesson in critical thinking. I’m not particularly surprised that the trait of animals taking subconscious cues is called the ‘Clever Hans effect’ rather than the ‘Pfungst phenomenon,’ but it’s unfortunate all the same. Perhaps, if more people were introduced to the values of critical observation, even of simply recognizing that there is usually more than one conclusion that can be drawn from every observation, then just a smidgen of the stupider stuff that we get up to as a species would vanish. And it shouldn’t even bother us to have learned it from a horse – it should be more embarrassing to fail to learn it, really.

The return of hummer cam

Al Denelsbeck

I just happened to check in on this when reviewing some old posts, and it seems there are already eggs in the nest. So check out ‘Phoebe,’ a returning resident hummingbird (I apologize for the ads – it’s how the server is hosted):



Live TV : Ustream

[You also might enjoy this. I’m a bit of an aircraft enthusiast, and as I was writing this post just now I heard a plane coming over incredibly low. I was getting up to see why someone was so close, in this area that sees practically no aviation activity, when I thought to shut off the computer speakers for a second. Yes, it was coming through the hummer cam…]

Anyway, ‘Phoebe’ is a Channel Islands Allen’s hummingbird (Selasphorus sasin sedentarius) that’s been returning to the same nest for years, and the human residents set up a streaming live web cam to observe her nesting behavior. Soon enough, the young will hatch, and the camera is a great way to observe the behavior. Two years ago I was lucky enough to see the fledglings’ first flights, which were quite amusing – it’s one thing to figure out how to take off, and yet another to, as they say, stick the landing. Imagine, if you will, a sudden surge in humming sounds from offscreen, followed by a green blur crashing into the side of the nest and disappearing again…

At this time of year, you may still see her gathering spider webs, which are used for both lining material and structural support. You’re also certainly going to notice that hummingbirds are hyperactive little things, never actually sitting still at all. This does make photographing them a challenge, especially if you want a natural setting and not a feeder in the shot, but there are some tips to be found on my previous post. Last year I got practically nothing worthwhile in the way of hummingbird images, so we’ll have to see what happens when they arrive this year. It’s still a bit too early to be looking here in NC – the nectar would have frozen solid in the feeder last night.

By the way, if you want a screen capture at any time, simply hit the “Print Screen” (PrtScr, upper right) key on your keyboard, open an image editor, create a new file the size of your screen resolution, and hit paste. Crop as needed.
HummerCapture

Have fun!

More Darwin (less cowbell)

Al Denelsbeck

CompetitionNice day out there, so it’s time to go see if there’s anything to be captured in mid-February, with the added incentive that it’s Charles Darwin’s birthday and I should illustrate natural selection. Hmmmm.

Okay, let’s start with the tiny winter flowers that can be found here in North Carolina, in corners and areas that see little traffic. With some poking around, I managed to capture three in the same macro frame (which means less than 4cm.) The blue one at the bottom is bird’s eye speedwell or winter speedwell (Veronica persica,) apparently an imported species; the white one in the middle is star chickweed (Stellaria pubera,) while the purple one at top is the unfortunately named red dead-nettle (Lamium purpureum) – I’m guessing it somehow pissed off a botanist to receive that name. All of these were growing from the same bed, often so close together to make it difficult to differentiate the plants. While I see the red dead-nettle plants more often, this is at least partially because they’re bigger, yet all three seem to do fairly well in the yard – it just takes a close look to see the others, which have flowers roughly 4mm across.

The common belief is that the larger species are the ‘strongest’ or ‘fittest,’ which just says we need to work harder to get the basics of this theory across to people. Biggest does not translate to best, and in fact there is no best in natural selection. The smaller flowers, seemingly at a disadvantage, may reproduce faster, do better in deep shade, or handle the spring saturation much better, and because they’re found in such close proximity, they likely even pull different nutrients from the soil. This would mean that they’re not in competition at all, but complementary, fitting within their own little niches. Also remember that we humans, as big and advanced as we are, remain in constant battles with insignificant little bacteria.

AlmondLast spring while preparing the mulch pile for use in the garden, I spotted a small sapling that had erupted from the rich soil, and in removing it I found it was actually an almond tree (Prunus amygdalus.) I have no idea when we tossed out an almond – they’re popular enough around the house that they get eaten quickly, unless they’re in questionable condition – but I tried transplanting it into the yard anyway. This isn’t really the climate for almonds, so I wasn’t expecting much, but what the hey. It grew about three times its height over the summer, never really appearing to thrive, and in the fall some visiting deer stripped all of the leaves from it. Yet today there appear to be new buds, so we’ll have to see what happens. It’s already weathered several days of sub-freezing temperatures, a light snowfall, and a freezing rain storm, plus last summer’s heat wave, so it’s not likely to see worse. The biggest challenge might be that under ten centimeters of topsoil sits Carolina orange clay, and if almonds don’t like that kind of substrate it’s not going to get very big.

AgainstI was surprised to see a caterpillar on the rosemary plant (Rosmarinus officinalis) – it was too big to have hatched this year, so it would have come through the winter. After a few pics, however, I nudged it to try and get it into a better position, and it simply collapsed and discharged a copious amount of brown goo. Ah. I guess it didn’t come through the winter after all. Whether a late hatching or an unlucky forager, my photo subject here failed to pupate in a reasonable time frame and probably got caught in one of the cold spells.

I was also lucky enough to find two of my good buddies, American five-lined skinks (Eumeces fasciatus,) sometimes considered blue-tailed skinks for reasons that will become obvious. But this is the issue with common names, since it is shared with at least two species in North America and one in Australia, and I think one in Africa – that’s part of the reason I always try to give the scientific names, which required a bit of web-fu to provide those flower names up top. Many different reptiles have the ability to quickly detach their tails if danger threatens, and since the tail is often brightly-colored and reflexively thrashes about, it draws the attention of the predator while the reptile scampers to safety. And like many species that can lose limbs to escape predation, the tails can grow back relatively quickly, within a few months in this case. I managed not to provoke this behavior while capturing this one, possibly because I had unearthed it under a plastic ground cover and it was still sluggish, not yet ready for the warmer seasons. This allowed me to photograph it in my palm, giving some sense of scale.
WinterSkink
This is a juvenile; the adults will lose most of the tail coloration (though not the ability to drop it) and will start displaying the sexual variation in coloring. Thus, the same species is often considered a red-headed skink once it’s larger, if it’s a male. And then, there is an overlap in range with the southeastern five-lined skink (Eumeces inexpectatus) which is almost identical, so actually knowing just what the hell you’ve captured is tricky. If someone corrects me, I’ll go with their expertise, which is the cue for anyone to come along and just start messing with my head.

Actually, it would appear that I’m celebrating Linnaeus day too…

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