Eight years ago in Alaska, Joe Travis gave a plenary address
as president of the American Society of Naturalists. He began by posing the whimsical
and implausible scenario where the program officer at the US National Science
Foundation called you on the phone and said “We have a million dollars for you
to spend on whatever research question you want.” Joe then asked the audience
if they would take the offer. The answer was dead obvious until then he gave the
hitch. You had to work on the organism that NSF specified. You could thus have
100% control of the research question but 0% control of the research organism. Hmmm.
Now everyone was thinking, “well what organism is it?” Believe it or not, many
people – myself included – were thinking they might say no to a million dollars
depending on the research organism.
So Joe gave us an organism. NSF, he said, has decided the
million dollars must be spent on research using the pirate perch, Aphredoderus sayanus. A fish,
I thought, cool, I can do something with that – but what? Joe then read the
species description. “The pirate perch, Aphredoderus sayanus, is a freshwater fish of the Percopsiformes order. This small fish (up to 14 centimetres
(5.5 in) TL) is native to the
eastern half of North
America. It is dark brown, sometimes with a darker band near the
base tail.” OK, nothing special – just a typical run of the mill small fish. Then
Joe continues “A unique feature of this fish is the forward placement of its cloaca, under the head,
anterior to the pelvic fins.” Ah, OK, now I know what to study: why in
the hell would a fish poop beside its mouth.*
Besides the pirate perch, the point I most remember from Joe’s
talk – and the resulting paper – was that some folks are organism people and
other folks are question people. Organism people work on one taxonomic group
and study tons of questions in that one group – think Peter and Rosemary Grant
working on Darwin’s finches or Jonathan Losos working on Anolis lizards.
Question people, by contrast, work on a whole host of taxonomic groups but use
each to address the same general question. Of course, an organism focus and a question
focus are really two independent axes and so you can also have folks that work
on many questions in many taxonomic groups – the dilettantes – and folks that
work on a single question in a single taxonomic group – the professionals
(apparently this is the official antonym of dilettante).
Taking the organism focus to extremes, we have the so-called
“model” organisms: the flies, mice, worms, and Arabadopsises (Arabadopses?) of
biology that are well characterized developmentally and genetically, having
full genome sequences, transcriptomes, clonal lines, transgenic strains, and
the like. This historically exclusive club has recently exploded to the point
that we now have lots of “model” organisms. As one example, the threespine stickleback
is now a recognized model organism – and one of the few that also have been
well characterized ecologically. This explosion of model organisms has led to
the desire to somehow elevate some models over others – supermodel organisms,
if you like.
So what would be (or could be) an eco-evolutionary supermodel?
Last week I was visiting Nancy Emery at Purdue University to give the Karling
Lecture, and we had a spirited dinner conversation with her lab on the topic. One
of Nancy’s students (Elizabeth Larue) was planning her research topic – cast very
generally as the role of adaptation to climate change in shaping
eco-evolutionary dynamics. Cool question – but what organism to use? Nancy’s
lab works on plants, so Elizabeth has spent some time thinking of various
eco-evolutionary model organisms, maybe the evening primrose, maybe goldenrod,
or maybe even (if all else fails) Arabadopsis. But, if we are really to pick from
scratch the best organism for eco-evolutionary studies, would it be a plant –
and what would be the other candidates?
Conversations like this usually don’t get very far before
someone brings up Daphnia – in fact,
they don’t get beyond hello if Luc De Meester, Nelson Hairston, or David Post
are present. Daphnia show very rapid
evolution, they are short lived and small (which eases experiments and
laboratory work), they are “strong interactors” in the community, they can be
propagated clonally, and – most amazingly – they can be resurrected from resting
eggs in sediments to directly compare the genotypes from the present to various
times in the past. (My favorite is the 2008 Nature paper of Ellen Decaestecker
where Daphnia and their parasites
were resurrected from several times in the past and cross-infected to show that
parasites from a given time period were better adapted to Daphnia from that
time period than they were to Daphnia from the past and the future.) Who could
ask for anything more of an eco-evolutionary supermodel? And so we decided
right then and there that Elizabeth’s thesis should be on Daphnia. And why stop
there, perhaps Nancy should give up on plants and just switch to Daphnia for
all her work.
The Emery Lab - Daphnia here we come! |
If Daphnia are the true eco-evolutionary supermodel, then
perhaps we should all work on them. Not so fast, you might say, we need to
study many organisms to determine the generality of any given phenomena. OK, true
enough, but that is a cop out – it is like saying that Daphnia really are the
best but some other poor sucker should study alewives or guppies or stickleback
or cottonwood trees or aphids or evening primrose. The hard question is – are Daphnia
really that perfect? Perhaps not. First – and as the plant people are
presumably thinking at this point – plants have many of the same properties as
Daphnia, including the possibility of resurrecting genotypes from the past.
Second, Daphnia are so small that no one can study the fate and success of individuals
in nature, whereas one can (sometimes with difficulty) for all of the above organisms.
Third, much (but not all) of the evolution studied in Daphnia on short time
scales is clonal selection, which is equivalent to studying different species.
But then supermodels aren’t perfect anyway – they just look
good, at least to most folks. So maybe Daphnia really is the ultimate
eco-evolutionary supermodel, it just has the usual flaws of human supermodels,
such as binging and purging, bulimia, bad boyfriend choices, drug abuse, and a
limited shelf-life. But then again, we don’t have just one human supermodel –
we have a bunch of them that we can pick and choose among to suit our current
ad campaign (i.e., Nature submission) or our budget or the flavor of the month. The
same should be true for eco-evolutionary models and supermodels and, yes,
Daphnia can be one of them – but so too can be alewives and guppies and
stickleback and cottonwood trees and aphids and evening primrose. I can’t wait
for the eco-evolutionary supermodel swim suit issues in Evolution and Ecology.
*This species description is from Wikipedia, which then
continues: “This placement allows the females to place their eggs more precisely
into root masses.” I am skeptical. Why wouldn't other fish do this? And why does having your bum under your chin help you be more precise? Did someone experimentally manipulate anus position and test egg laying precision? The question is definitely worth a million dollars of research.
At Dynamic Ecology a little while back we had a discussion on model systems in ecology. Guess which one I suggested as the ultimate model system?
ReplyDeletehttp://dynamicecology.wordpress.com/2012/10/18/ecologists-should-quit-making-things-hard-for-themselves-and-focus-more-on-model-systems/
ARGGHRRHH, enough already, you are going to give these Daphnia researchers heads that won't fit in their predation-induced helmets!
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