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Ecologists Struggle to Get a Grip on ‘Keystone Species’

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Wednesday, April 24, 2024

ecologyEcologists Struggle to Get a Grip on ‘Keystone Species’By Lesley Evans OgdenApril 24, 2024More than 50 years after Bob Paine’s experiment with starfish, hundreds of species have been pronounced “keystones” in their ecosystems. Has the powerful metaphor lost its mathematical meaning?In the late 1960s, Bob Paine described the Pisaster sea star as a “keystone species” in Pacific Northwest tide pools. The concept has since taken on a life of its own. Julian Nieman/Alamy Stock Photo IntroductionAnne Salomon’s first week as a graduate student in 2001 was not what she had anticipated. While other new students headed to introductory lectures, Salomon was whisked away by van and then motorboat to Tatoosh Island, which sits just offshore of the northwestern tip of Washington’s Olympic Peninsula. Among the tide pools of this isolated island, Salomon peered at the web of life on the rocks: ochre sea stars, barnacles, mussels, snails and assorted algae that took forms reminiscent of lettuce, moss and bubble wrap. A visit to this wave-pummeled outcrop was a rite of passage for lab associates of Bob Paine. Decades earlier, Paine, armed with a crowbar, had first pried purple Pisaster starfish — the ecosystem’s top predator — from tide pools in nearby Makah Bay and flung them into the sea so he could learn what forces organized the community of rock-clinging creatures. The results would profoundly influence ecology, conservation and the public perception of nature. After three years without starfish, the 15 species originally present in the pools declined to eight. After 10 years, a mussel monoculture dominated the shore. The results of Paine’s experiment, published in The American Naturalist in 1966, showed that a single species can have an outsize influence on an ecological community. When Paine shared his findings with the paleoecologist and conservationist Estella Leopold, she suggested that a powerful concept deserved an evocative name. In a subsequent paper, he designated the Pisaster starfish a “keystone species,” referring to an architectural keystone: the wedge-shaped stone atop an arch that, once inserted, prevents the structure from collapsing. “Bob had a fairly poetic, narrative mind,” said Mary Power, an emeritus professor at the University of California, Berkeley who studied under Paine. (Paine died in 2016.) Salomon, Power and other Paine students dedicated their graduate work to refining the keystone concept and defining a species’ ecological “keystone-ness” mathematically. But like starfish glomming onto rocks, the metaphor took hold in the scientific and public imagination. Many ecologists and conservationists lost sight of the original significance Paine had given to the term and began branding seemingly every important species a keystone. Indeed, an analysis published last year found that over 200 species have been marked as keystones. Usage of the label has become so broad that some ecologists fear that it has lost all meaning. Bob Paine stands in the intertidal zone of the Pacific Northwest, where he studied how purple starfish structured tide pool communities. In one of his final papers, Paine suggested that humans are a “hyperkeystone” species that exerts ecological influence over all other keystones. Kevin Schafer/Alamy IntroductionEcologists today are working to refine what “keystone species” means and advocate for a more discerning application. With a more rigorous identification of keystone species, policymakers can better identify and safeguard species that have disproportionate impacts on ecosystems, they argue. And new applications in microbial medicine could help biologists more precisely quantify the influence of a keystone species, which could benefit not just ecosystems but human health too. Species Essentiality In the decades before Paine conducted his now-famous experiment, ecologists had converged on the theory that species sharing a habitat were connected in a pyramidal network of who eats whom. At the top were rare predators, which ate minor predators or herbivores, which themselves consumed abundant “producers” like plants or algae, which were nourished directly by sunlight and photosynthesis. The web’s stability, ecologists thought, was controlled from the bottom up by the availability of producers. But by the 1960s, that thinking was changing. Could communities also be strongly influenced by predators? Maybe vegetation dominated ecosystems not because producers limited other species, but because predators prevented herbivores from overgrazing. Paine’s experiment was one of the first to convincingly demonstrate such top-down control in real time. Then the ecologist James Estes documented how sea otters in California’s offshore kelp forests played a keystone role akin to that of starfish in Paine’s tide pools. In a 1974 paper published in Science, he described how the sea otter, a single predatory species, structured the diversity of the kelp-forest community. Sea otters kept herbivorous sea urchins in check; without the predators, urchins overgrazed and wiped out the entire suite of kelp-dependent species. These studies and the keystone idea came to prominence at the same moment that America’s environmental conscience was emerging. In 1973, Congress passed the Endangered Species Act, which took a species-focused approach to conserving wildlife. The idea that restoring the population of a single species — a keystone, perhaps — could ensure the biodiversity of an ecological community aligned with this new legal framework. As a result, the keystone-species concept took on a life of its own. Scientists and conservationists increasingly applied the term to any species considered important, mischaracterizing Paine’s original idea. Top predators like wolves and sharks whose absence had drastic trickle-down impacts were demonstrably keystones. So were habitat-altering ecosystem engineers like beavers, woodpeckers, bison and prairie dogs. But before long there were also scientific references to keystone herbivores, keystone plants, keystone pollinators, even keystone pathogens. Groups of species considered important were labeled “keystone guilds.” As the term’s mainstream popularity took off, ecologists quietly worked on a mathematical definition of relationships between the species nodes in an ecological network. On Tatoosh Island, Paine’s students continued to examine tide pools, adding or deleting species to see which ones mattered most to the community. Taking careful measurements over many years, they quantified the relative capacity of each grazer to influence baby kelp’s ability to take root — a measurement Paine called “per capita interaction strength,” and which later became known as “keystone-ness.” If an organism had high keystone-ness, each individual had a disproportionately large effect on its ecosystem. However, most people weren’t following this new ecological math. By the 1990s, some ecologists had become alarmed that overuse of “keystone species” was transforming and diminishing the concept’s meaning. It was time to hash it out. In December 1994, a small conference of ecologists — some self-identifying as “keystone cops” — was held in Hilo, Hawai‘i, to develop a consensus definition. Following Paine and Power’s math, they agreed that “a keystone species is a species whose impacts on its community or ecosystem are large, and much larger than would be expected from its abundance.” The ecologist Anne Salomon, who became  “father-daughter close” with Paine as academic collaborators, studied intertidal communities in Alaska and demonstrated that chiton mollusks are a keystone species there. Brandy Yanchyk IntroductionUnder this definition, salmon are not a keystone species even though they are ecologically important. “If you take one individual salmon out of a river, it’s not going to have a huge effect,” Salomon said. In contrast, if you take one sea star out of a chunk of an intertidal zone, “it’s going to have a big effect.” The Hilo convention was a worthy effort. But it didn’t stop researchers from naming new keystones in the decades that followed. “The problem is that there are no standards to which researchers are held in designating their study organism as a keystone,” said Bruce Menge, a community ecologist at Oregon State University and another former Paine graduate student. “Anyone is free to suggest, argue or speculate that their species is a keystone.” And indeed, a new analysis recently revealed just how far the concept has stretched. We’re All Keystones Here In 2021, Ishana Shukla was a graduate student at the University of Victoria looking to analyze traits of keystone species. “I quite naïvely thought you could just Google a list of keystone species and a lovely list would come up,” she said. When she couldn’t find one, she thought she’d create her own. She mined more than 50 years of published data, encompassing 157 studies, and identified 230 species considered keystones. She saw that as ecological knowledge advanced, “the function of the keystone started to expand wider and wider.” Using an analytical technique that organizes items into related clusters, she and her co-authors found five types of keystone species: large vertebrate carnivores like sharks and wolves; invertebrate munchers like the long-spined sea urchin and cabbage butterfly; middle-of-the-pack species that are both predatory and preyed on, such as bream and bullhead fish; invertebrates that perform vital roles in food webs like northern shrimp and honeybees; and small mammals that modify habitats like the ice rat and black-tailed prairie dog. “We’ve identified a whole swath of keystones that aren’t necessarily getting conservation action or conservation attention, but we can see that they are massively important to our ecosystem,” said Shukla, now a doctoral student at the University of California, Davis. “The most important message from this paper was that keystone species are not all the same,” said Diane Srivastava, a community ecologist at the University of British Columbia who, while working in Costa Rica, identified damselfly larvae as keystone species in water pooled inside bromeliad leaves. “The public perception of a keystone species is that they are the large terrestrial mammals … but actually, most of them are not. Most keystone species are aquatic. Many of them are not predators. There’s a good number of invertebrates.” However, the paper didn’t try to evaluate whether these species were true mathematical keystones or not. Instead, Menge said, Shukla and her collaborators merely summarized how the term has been used and misused. In that way the research emphasized, rather than complicated, “continued liberal use of the term ‘keystone species’ to refer to any strong interactor that has indirect consequences,” he said. None of Shukla’s categories included microbes. Indeed, Paine and others were not thinking about microorganisms at all in their experiments. And yet quantifying keystone-ness has become the subject of a novel line of research in medical microbiology. A new analysis showed the diversity of organisms that ecologists have named ‘keystones’ in their ecosystems. Top to bottom: Large, animal-eating vertebrates, such as the sea otter; invertebrates that shape their environments, such as the honey bee; midsize vertebrates that consume plant-eaters, such as bullhead fish; and smaller, plant-eating invertebrates, such as the cabbage butterfly. Top to bottom: GomezDavid/iStock; Dustin Humes; Andyworks/iStock; Wirestock/iStock A new analysis showed the diversity of organisms that ecologists have named ‘keystones’ in their ecosystems. Clockwise from upper left: Large, animal-eating vertebrates, such as the sea otter; invertebrates that shape their environments, such as the honey bee; midsize vertebrates that consume plant-eaters, such as bullhead fish; and smaller, plant-eating invertebrates, such as the cabbage butterfly. Clockwise from top left: GomezDavid/iStock; Dustin Humes; Andyworks/iStock; Wirestock/iStock IntroductionThe Keystone in Your Gut Microbiomes involve hundreds to thousands of microbial species interacting in a complex ecosystem. So why shouldn’t they have keystone species too? “Presumably, if there’s a keystone species, then the system might be quite fragile,” said Yang-Yu Liu, who studies the microbiome at Brigham and Women’s Hospital and Harvard Medical School. For example, if antibiotics killed off your gut’s keystone microbe, the microbial ecosystem might collapse and cause health complications. “That’s why I’m interested in identifying keystone species from microbial communities,” he said. It’s not technically or ethically possible to remove species in human microbiomes one by one, the way you might pluck starfish off rocks. Instead, Liu and his colleagues turned to AI in a paper published in November in Nature Ecology & Evolution. Using data from gut, oral, soil and coral microbiome databases, they trained a deep learning model to rank the importance of species in microbial communities by looking at what happened to the community after each species was removed from its model microbiome — essentially quantifying the keystone-ness of each microbe. In Liu’s analysis, “we didn’t find any species with very large keystone-ness,” he said. The highest calculated value was around 0.2. With their definition of keystone-ness ranging between zero and 1, “0.2 is really not a big number,” he said. That doesn’t mean there aren’t keystones in microbial communities. Liu believes that these communities have very high levels of functional redundancy — meaning that multiple species may perform similar ecological roles and could therefore be interchangeable. And some species may have high keystone-ness not in an absolute sense but relative to a given person’s microbiome, which is highly personalized. “Those species are quite important in the sense that if you remove them, the system might change a lot,” Liu said. Yang-Yu Liu and postdocs Zheng Sun and Xu-Wen Wang recently used AI to characterize keystone species in gut, oral, soil and coral microbiomes. “If there’s a keystone species, then the system might be quite fragile,” Liu said. Xiaole Yin IntroductionIn that sense, in microbial communities, the keystone species concept is context-dependent. A keystone in one microbiome might not be a keystone in another. “I feel that this aspect has not been highly appreciated by ecologists,” Liu said. Ecologists are now grappling with this contextual nature of keystone species beyond microbes and pondering whether, and how, the concept matters amid the reality of biodiversity loss. Reassessing the Metaphor Menge has dedicated his career to understanding ecological community structure, continuing the emphasis on rocky shores from his graduate work with Paine. He’s found that Paine’s iconic purple star isn’t a keystone species everywhere. It has stronger keystone-ness in some places, for example in tide pools more intensely beaten by waves. “In fact, in more sheltered places, the sea star isn’t really much of a keystone at all,” he said. Paine came to accept this too. Up in Alaska, where the mussel preferred by more southern purple stars is absent, the predator is “just another sea star,” Power recalled Paine saying. The fact that keystone species are context-dependent and that they vary in space and time is “missed in short-term studies,” Menge said. Still, Srivastava isn’t ready to discard the concept. While the focus on keystones and single species may have distracted policymakers and conservationists from more holistic approaches to conservation, protecting and restoring a single species can sometimes benefit many other species in an ecosystem. “It doesn’t mean we rush to save keystone species and ignore the diversity of the system as a whole,” she said. Srivastava also emphasized that keystones are not the only way systems are stabilized. “Ecologists now think that some of the most important interactions in terms of stability are actually relatively weak interactions,” she said. “If you have a high number of species that are weakly interacting, it’s kind of like having a lot of tent pegs tying down your tent in a windstorm. It dissipates some of the perturbations.” Menge largely agrees. Amid a global loss of species, the main focus should be protecting habitats and biodiversity, not individual species, he said. “If those two things were done in enough places, then I’m not sure that the keystone-species idea is all that critical.” Maybe one keystone matters more than the rest. In one of Paine’s final papers, published in 2016 on the day of his death, he and ecologist Boris Worm proposed that humans are a “hyperkeystone species” — one that exerts profound effects through exploitation of other keystones. Humans can’t be removed from the system like starfish to quantify our impact. But we can learn how to reduce our keystone-ness through effective conservation practice and policy, Salomon said. “We also have the ability to learn to steward ourselves.” That’s one reason why ecologists continue to redefine and reconsider keystone species. The powerful symbol isn’t going anywhere, but with an improved definition, people could learn how to apply it better. Paine knew this. Salomon likes to share his words with her students: “You can’t manage out of ignorance. You have to know what species do, whom they eat, what role these prey species play. When you know that, you can make some intelligent decisions.”

More than 50 years after Bob Paine’s experiment with starfish, hundreds of species have been pronounced “keystones” in their ecosystems. Has the powerful metaphor lost its mathematical meaning? The post Ecologists Struggle to Get a Grip on ‘Keystone Species’ first appeared on Quanta Magazine

Ecologists Struggle to Get a Grip on ‘Keystone Species’

April 24, 2024

More than 50 years after Bob Paine’s experiment with starfish, hundreds of species have been pronounced “keystones” in their ecosystems. Has the powerful metaphor lost its mathematical meaning?
Purple and orange sea stars cling to exposed rocks.

In the late 1960s, Bob Paine described the Pisaster sea star as a “keystone species” in Pacific Northwest tide pools. The concept has since taken on a life of its own.

Julian Nieman/Alamy Stock Photo

Introduction

Anne Salomon’s first week as a graduate student in 2001 was not what she had anticipated. While other new students headed to introductory lectures, Salomon was whisked away by van and then motorboat to Tatoosh Island, which sits just offshore of the northwestern tip of Washington’s Olympic Peninsula. Among the tide pools of this isolated island, Salomon peered at the web of life on the rocks: ochre sea stars, barnacles, mussels, snails and assorted algae that took forms reminiscent of lettuce, moss and bubble wrap.

A visit to this wave-pummeled outcrop was a rite of passage for lab associates of Bob Paine. Decades earlier, Paine, armed with a crowbar, had first pried purple Pisaster starfish — the ecosystem’s top predator — from tide pools in nearby Makah Bay and flung them into the sea so he could learn what forces organized the community of rock-clinging creatures. The results would profoundly influence ecology, conservation and the public perception of nature. After three years without starfish, the 15 species originally present in the pools declined to eight. After 10 years, a mussel monoculture dominated the shore.

The results of Paine’s experiment, published in The American Naturalist in 1966, showed that a single species can have an outsize influence on an ecological community. When Paine shared his findings with the paleoecologist and conservationist Estella Leopold, she suggested that a powerful concept deserved an evocative name. In a subsequent paper, he designated the Pisaster starfish a “keystone species,” referring to an architectural keystone: the wedge-shaped stone atop an arch that, once inserted, prevents the structure from collapsing. “Bob had a fairly poetic, narrative mind,” said Mary Power, an emeritus professor at the University of California, Berkeley who studied under Paine. (Paine died in 2016.)

Salomon, Power and other Paine students dedicated their graduate work to refining the keystone concept and defining a species’ ecological “keystone-ness” mathematically. But like starfish glomming onto rocks, the metaphor took hold in the scientific and public imagination. Many ecologists and conservationists lost sight of the original significance Paine had given to the term and began branding seemingly every important species a keystone. Indeed, an analysis published last year found that over 200 species have been marked as keystones. Usage of the label has become so broad that some ecologists fear that it has lost all meaning.

Bob Paine stands in the intertidal zone of the Pacific Northwest, where he studied how purple starfish structured tide pool communities. In one of his final papers, Paine suggested that humans are a “hyperkeystone” species that exerts ecological influence over all other keystones.

Kevin Schafer/Alamy

Introduction

Ecologists today are working to refine what “keystone species” means and advocate for a more discerning application. With a more rigorous identification of keystone species, policymakers can better identify and safeguard species that have disproportionate impacts on ecosystems, they argue. And new applications in microbial medicine could help biologists more precisely quantify the influence of a keystone species, which could benefit not just ecosystems but human health too.

Species Essentiality

In the decades before Paine conducted his now-famous experiment, ecologists had converged on the theory that species sharing a habitat were connected in a pyramidal network of who eats whom. At the top were rare predators, which ate minor predators or herbivores, which themselves consumed abundant “producers” like plants or algae, which were nourished directly by sunlight and photosynthesis. The web’s stability, ecologists thought, was controlled from the bottom up by the availability of producers.

But by the 1960s, that thinking was changing. Could communities also be strongly influenced by predators? Maybe vegetation dominated ecosystems not because producers limited other species, but because predators prevented herbivores from overgrazing. Paine’s experiment was one of the first to convincingly demonstrate such top-down control in real time.

Then the ecologist James Estes documented how sea otters in California’s offshore kelp forests played a keystone role akin to that of starfish in Paine’s tide pools. In a 1974 paper published in Science, he described how the sea otter, a single predatory species, structured the diversity of the kelp-forest community. Sea otters kept herbivorous sea urchins in check; without the predators, urchins overgrazed and wiped out the entire suite of kelp-dependent species.

These studies and the keystone idea came to prominence at the same moment that America’s environmental conscience was emerging. In 1973, Congress passed the Endangered Species Act, which took a species-focused approach to conserving wildlife. The idea that restoring the population of a single species — a keystone, perhaps — could ensure the biodiversity of an ecological community aligned with this new legal framework.

As a result, the keystone-species concept took on a life of its own. Scientists and conservationists increasingly applied the term to any species considered important, mischaracterizing Paine’s original idea. Top predators like wolves and sharks whose absence had drastic trickle-down impacts were demonstrably keystones. So were habitat-altering ecosystem engineers like beavers, woodpeckers, bison and prairie dogs. But before long there were also scientific references to keystone herbivores, keystone plants, keystone pollinators, even keystone pathogens. Groups of species considered important were labeled “keystone guilds.”

As the term’s mainstream popularity took off, ecologists quietly worked on a mathematical definition of relationships between the species nodes in an ecological network. On Tatoosh Island, Paine’s students continued to examine tide pools, adding or deleting species to see which ones mattered most to the community. Taking careful measurements over many years, they quantified the relative capacity of each grazer to influence baby kelp’s ability to take root — a measurement Paine called “per capita interaction strength,” and which later became known as “keystone-ness.” If an organism had high keystone-ness, each individual had a disproportionately large effect on its ecosystem.

However, most people weren’t following this new ecological math. By the 1990s, some ecologists had become alarmed that overuse of “keystone species” was transforming and diminishing the concept’s meaning. It was time to hash it out. In December 1994, a small conference of ecologists — some self-identifying as “keystone cops” — was held in Hilo, Hawai‘i, to develop a consensus definition. Following Paine and Power’s math, they agreed that “a keystone species is a species whose impacts on its community or ecosystem are large, and much larger than would be expected from its abundance.”

Portrait of Anne Salomon.

The ecologist Anne Salomon, who became  “father-daughter close” with Paine as academic collaborators, studied intertidal communities in Alaska and demonstrated that chiton mollusks are a keystone species there.

Brandy Yanchyk

Introduction

Under this definition, salmon are not a keystone species even though they are ecologically important. “If you take one individual salmon out of a river, it’s not going to have a huge effect,” Salomon said. In contrast, if you take one sea star out of a chunk of an intertidal zone, “it’s going to have a big effect.”

The Hilo convention was a worthy effort. But it didn’t stop researchers from naming new keystones in the decades that followed. “The problem is that there are no standards to which researchers are held in designating their study organism as a keystone,” said Bruce Menge, a community ecologist at Oregon State University and another former Paine graduate student. “Anyone is free to suggest, argue or speculate that their species is a keystone.” And indeed, a new analysis recently revealed just how far the concept has stretched.

We’re All Keystones Here

In 2021, Ishana Shukla was a graduate student at the University of Victoria looking to analyze traits of keystone species. “I quite naïvely thought you could just Google a list of keystone species and a lovely list would come up,” she said. When she couldn’t find one, she thought she’d create her own. She mined more than 50 years of published data, encompassing 157 studies, and identified 230 species considered keystones. She saw that as ecological knowledge advanced, “the function of the keystone started to expand wider and wider.”

Using an analytical technique that organizes items into related clusters, she and her co-authors found five types of keystone species: large vertebrate carnivores like sharks and wolves; invertebrate munchers like the long-spined sea urchin and cabbage butterfly; middle-of-the-pack species that are both predatory and preyed on, such as bream and bullhead fish; invertebrates that perform vital roles in food webs like northern shrimp and honeybees; and small mammals that modify habitats like the ice rat and black-tailed prairie dog.

“We’ve identified a whole swath of keystones that aren’t necessarily getting conservation action or conservation attention, but we can see that they are massively important to our ecosystem,” said Shukla, now a doctoral student at the University of California, Davis.

“The most important message from this paper was that keystone species are not all the same,” said Diane Srivastava, a community ecologist at the University of British Columbia who, while working in Costa Rica, identified damselfly larvae as keystone species in water pooled inside bromeliad leaves. “The public perception of a keystone species is that they are the large terrestrial mammals … but actually, most of them are not. Most keystone species are aquatic. Many of them are not predators. There’s a good number of invertebrates.”

However, the paper didn’t try to evaluate whether these species were true mathematical keystones or not. Instead, Menge said, Shukla and her collaborators merely summarized how the term has been used and misused. In that way the research emphasized, rather than complicated, “continued liberal use of the term ‘keystone species’ to refer to any strong interactor that has indirect consequences,” he said.

None of Shukla’s categories included microbes. Indeed, Paine and others were not thinking about microorganisms at all in their experiments. And yet quantifying keystone-ness has become the subject of a novel line of research in medical microbiology.

Clockwise from upper left: A sea otter floats on the water’s surface. A honey bee approaches a purple flower. A bullhead fish, sporting wide fins and a frowning face, rests on the pond bottom. A white cabbage butterfly alights on a white daisy.

A new analysis showed the diversity of organisms that ecologists have named ‘keystones’ in their ecosystems. Top to bottom: Large, animal-eating vertebrates, such as the sea otter; invertebrates that shape their environments, such as the honey bee; midsize vertebrates that consume plant-eaters, such as bullhead fish; and smaller, plant-eating invertebrates, such as the cabbage butterfly.

Top to bottom: GomezDavid/iStock; Dustin Humes; Andyworks/iStock; Wirestock/iStock

A new analysis showed the diversity of organisms that ecologists have named ‘keystones’ in their ecosystems. Clockwise from upper left: Large, animal-eating vertebrates, such as the sea otter; invertebrates that shape their environments, such as the honey bee; midsize vertebrates that consume plant-eaters, such as bullhead fish; and smaller, plant-eating invertebrates, such as the cabbage butterfly.

Clockwise from top left: GomezDavid/iStock; Dustin Humes; Andyworks/iStock; Wirestock/iStock

Introduction

The Keystone in Your Gut

Microbiomes involve hundreds to thousands of microbial species interacting in a complex ecosystem. So why shouldn’t they have keystone species too?

“Presumably, if there’s a keystone species, then the system might be quite fragile,” said Yang-Yu Liu, who studies the microbiome at Brigham and Women’s Hospital and Harvard Medical School. For example, if antibiotics killed off your gut’s keystone microbe, the microbial ecosystem might collapse and cause health complications. “That’s why I’m interested in identifying keystone species from microbial communities,” he said.

It’s not technically or ethically possible to remove species in human microbiomes one by one, the way you might pluck starfish off rocks. Instead, Liu and his colleagues turned to AI in a paper published in November in Nature Ecology & Evolution. Using data from gut, oral, soil and coral microbiome databases, they trained a deep learning model to rank the importance of species in microbial communities by looking at what happened to the community after each species was removed from its model microbiome — essentially quantifying the keystone-ness of each microbe.

In Liu’s analysis, “we didn’t find any species with very large keystone-ness,” he said. The highest calculated value was around 0.2. With their definition of keystone-ness ranging between zero and 1, “0.2 is really not a big number,” he said.

That doesn’t mean there aren’t keystones in microbial communities. Liu believes that these communities have very high levels of functional redundancy — meaning that multiple species may perform similar ecological roles and could therefore be interchangeable. And some species may have high keystone-ness not in an absolute sense but relative to a given person’s microbiome, which is highly personalized. “Those species are quite important in the sense that if you remove them, the system might change a lot,” Liu said.

Yang-Yu Liu, Zheng Sun and Xu-Wen Wang stand in front of a Harvard sign.

Yang-Yu Liu and postdocs Zheng Sun and Xu-Wen Wang recently used AI to characterize keystone species in gut, oral, soil and coral microbiomes. “If there’s a keystone species, then the system might be quite fragile,” Liu said.

Xiaole Yin

Introduction

In that sense, in microbial communities, the keystone species concept is context-dependent. A keystone in one microbiome might not be a keystone in another. “I feel that this aspect has not been highly appreciated by ecologists,” Liu said.

Ecologists are now grappling with this contextual nature of keystone species beyond microbes and pondering whether, and how, the concept matters amid the reality of biodiversity loss.

Reassessing the Metaphor

Menge has dedicated his career to understanding ecological community structure, continuing the emphasis on rocky shores from his graduate work with Paine. He’s found that Paine’s iconic purple star isn’t a keystone species everywhere. It has stronger keystone-ness in some places, for example in tide pools more intensely beaten by waves. “In fact, in more sheltered places, the sea star isn’t really much of a keystone at all,” he said.

Paine came to accept this too. Up in Alaska, where the mussel preferred by more southern purple stars is absent, the predator is “just another sea star,” Power recalled Paine saying.

The fact that keystone species are context-dependent and that they vary in space and time is “missed in short-term studies,” Menge said.

Still, Srivastava isn’t ready to discard the concept. While the focus on keystones and single species may have distracted policymakers and conservationists from more holistic approaches to conservation, protecting and restoring a single species can sometimes benefit many other species in an ecosystem. “It doesn’t mean we rush to save keystone species and ignore the diversity of the system as a whole,” she said.

Srivastava also emphasized that keystones are not the only way systems are stabilized. “Ecologists now think that some of the most important interactions in terms of stability are actually relatively weak interactions,” she said. “If you have a high number of species that are weakly interacting, it’s kind of like having a lot of tent pegs tying down your tent in a windstorm. It dissipates some of the perturbations.”

Menge largely agrees. Amid a global loss of species, the main focus should be protecting habitats and biodiversity, not individual species, he said. “If those two things were done in enough places, then I’m not sure that the keystone-species idea is all that critical.”

Maybe one keystone matters more than the rest. In one of Paine’s final papers, published in 2016 on the day of his death, he and ecologist Boris Worm proposed that humans are a “hyperkeystone species” — one that exerts profound effects through exploitation of other keystones.

Humans can’t be removed from the system like starfish to quantify our impact. But we can learn how to reduce our keystone-ness through effective conservation practice and policy, Salomon said. “We also have the ability to learn to steward ourselves.”

That’s one reason why ecologists continue to redefine and reconsider keystone species. The powerful symbol isn’t going anywhere, but with an improved definition, people could learn how to apply it better.

Paine knew this. Salomon likes to share his words with her students: “You can’t manage out of ignorance. You have to know what species do, whom they eat, what role these prey species play. When you know that, you can make some intelligent decisions.”

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Renowned Primatologist Jane Goodall Dead At 91

The Jane Goodall Institute said Goodall passed away "due to natural causes."

English primatologist and anthropologist Jane Goodall speaks in the panel "Earth's Wisdom Keepers" on the last day of the forum's Annual Meeting in Davos, Switzerland, in 2024.AP Photo/Markus SchreiberJane Goodall, the world’s most famous primatologist, died Wednesday at the age of 91, the Jane Goodall Institute announced on social media.According to the Institute, Goodall passed away “due to natural causes” while in California as part of a speaking tour of the United States.“Dr. Goodall’s discoveries as an ethologist revolutionized science, and she was a tireless advocate for the protection and restoration of our natural world,” the Institute said in a statement.Goodall, the world's foremost authority on chimpanzees, communicates with chimpanzee Nana in June 2004 at the zoo of Magdeburg in eastern Germany. The British primatologist has died.JENS SCHLUETER/DDP/AFP via Getty ImagesIn the spring of 1957, Goodall, then a 22-year-old secretary with only a high school education, boarded a ship from her native England to Kenya. Her work at a local natural history museum soon took her to the rainforest reserve at Gombe National Park (in present-day Tanzania), home to one of the largest chimpanzee populations in Africa.She felt an immediate connection to the chimpanzees. Over the decades that followed, she spent almost all her time in the reserve ― conducting research that reshaped our understanding of chimpanzees and even what it means to be human. Goodall was born on April 3, 1934, in London, to businessman Mortimer Herbert Morris-Goodall and novelist Margaret Myfanwe Joseph. She grew up in the middle-class resort town of Bournemouth, on the southern coast of England. In grade school, she started reading Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Tarzan novels and Hugh Lofting’s “The Story of Doctor Dolittle” and became obsessed with the idea of traveling to Africa.Goodall’s parents couldn’t afford to send her to college, so after she graduated from high school, she worked as a secretary for two years to save money for the three-week passage to Africa. Two months after arriving, she met renowned paleontologist Louis Leakey, whose work had shown that hominids originated in Africa, rather than Asia. Leakey recognized Goodall’s intelligence and hired her at the natural history museum in Nairobi, where he worked, intending to send her to the rainforest to study chimpanzees. Goodall appears in Gombe National Park in the television special "Miss Goodall and the World of Chimpanzees," originally broadcast on CBS in December 1965.CBS Photo Archive via Getty ImagesFor the first few months of her stay in Gombe, the chimpanzees were cautious, refusing to come within several hundred feet of the young woman. But Goodall persisted, using bananas as a lure for the chimpanzees, and they eventually became comfortable enough to allow her to observe them at close range. Goodall began giving them individual names — highly unorthodox in a field where the standard practice was to assign animals identifying numbers. And as she got closer to the chimpanzees, she discovered that they behaved in a manner that resembled the rich, complicated social structure of humans far more than anyone had suspected. She came to the belief that they could be caring and violent, resourceful and playful — much like human beings.Goodall feeds rescued chimpanzees on July 14, 2016, at the Sweetwaters sanctuary, Kenya's only great-ape sanctuary.TONY KARUMBA/AFP/Getty ImagesGoodall made what is still regarded as her most significant discovery about chimpanzee behavior in October 1960. Looking through her binoculars, she saw a male chimpanzee she’d named David Greybeard sticking a twig into a termite colony and using it to retrieve termites that he then ate. Before this moment, scientists had always believed that humans were the only creatures on earth capable of making and using tools.It hadn’t, in fact, been known that chimpanzees ate meat. Goodall later observed chimpanzees hunting and eating mammals, including other monkeys and even, on rare occasions, other chimpanzees.In 1962, Goodall enrolled in a Ph.D. program at Cambridge University, becoming one of just a handful of people ever to do so without an undergraduate degree. While there, she published her breakthrough finding on the tool-using chimpanzee in the prestigious scientific journal Nature.After getting her degree in 1965, Goodall returned to Gombe to continue her work with chimpanzees. She published her first book, “My Friends the Wild Chimpanzees,” in 1967. She has since published more than a dozen other books for adults and several for children. One of these books, 2013’s “Seeds of Hope,” was criticized for including passages lifted from several other sources without attribution, a misstep Goodall attributed to sloppy note-taking. She later published a revised edition.Goodall poses for a photo at Taronga Zoo on Oct. 11, 2008, in Sydney. Robert Gray via Getty ImagesIn 1977, Goodall established the Jane Goodall Institute to promote conservation and development programs in Africa. It now has projects across the world, including youth-focused programs in nearly 100 countries. As Goodall’s fame grew, she became an outspoken advocate for animal rights and conservation. She has been involved in numerous organizations working on behalf of better treatment of animals.“You cannot share your life with a dog, as I had done in Bournemouth, or a cat, and not know perfectly well that animals have personalities and minds and feelings,” she told The Guardian in 2010. “You know it and I think every single one of those scientists knew it too, but because they couldn’t prove it, they wouldn’t talk about it.”In a 2021 interview with HuffPost, she reflected on humanity’s stewardship of the world and expressed hope we might lean more on our intellect to work toward the mutually beneficial goal of environmental preservation.That intellect is ultimately what distinguishes us from chimpanzees, she said, and allows us to collaboratively plan for the future:20 Years OfFreeJournalismYour SupportFuelsOur MissionYour SupportFuelsOur MissionFor two decades, HuffPost has been fearless, unflinching, and relentless in pursuit of the truth. Support our mission to keep us around for the next 20 — we can't do this without you.We remain committed to providing you with the unflinching, fact-based journalism everyone deserves.Thank you again for your support along the way. We’re truly grateful for readers like you! Your initial support helped get us here and bolstered our newsroom, which kept us strong during uncertain times. Now as we continue, we need your help more than ever. We hope you will join us once again.We remain committed to providing you with the unflinching, fact-based journalism everyone deserves.Thank you again for your support along the way. We’re truly grateful for readers like you! Your initial support helped get us here and bolstered our newsroom, which kept us strong during uncertain times. Now as we continue, we need your help more than ever. We hope you will join us once again.Support HuffPostAlready contributed? Log in to hide these messages.Chimpanzees have a very brutal, dark, war-like side. They also have a loving and altruistic side. Just like us. But the big difference is the explosive development of our intellect, which I personally think was at least partly triggered by the fact we developed this way of talking with words. So we can tell people about things that aren’t present. We can make plans for the distant future. We can bring people from different disciplines together to discuss a problem. That’s because of words. We now have developed a moral code with our words. And we know perfectly well what we should and shouldn’t do. But there is this kind of innate territorialism, which leads to nationalism. That’s in our genes. But we should be able to get out of it because of this intellect. We have the tools. We have the language. We have the scientific technology. We understand that if we make the right decisions every day and billions of us do it, we can move in the right direction. But will we do it in time? I don’t know.Goodall married Dutch nature photographer Baron Hugo van Lawick in 1964. The two had a son, Hugo, in 1967, and divorced in 1974. She married Derek Bryceson, head of Tanzania’s national parks, in 1975. He died of cancer in 1980. Sara Bondioli contributed reporting.

Environmentalists, Politicians, Celebrities Recall Life and Influence of Primatologist Jane Goodall

Tributes poured in from around the world honoring the life and influence of Jane Goodall, the famed primatologist whose death at the age of 91 was announced on Wednesday

Jane Goodall was a pioneer, a tireless advocate and a deeply compassionate conservationist who inspired others to care about primates — and all animals — during a long life well lived, according to tributes from around the world.U.S. Sen Cory Booker of New Jersey posted a video of Goodall to social media, and thanked her for her “lasting legacy of conservation.” Journalist Maria Shriver said Goodall was a “legendary figure and a friend” who “changed the world and the lives of everyone she impacted."Here’s a roundup of some notable reaction to Goodall's death and legacy: U.N. Secretary-General António Guterres “I’m deeply saddened to learn about the passing of Jane Goodall, our dear Messenger of Peace. She is leaving an extraordinary legacy for humanity & our planet.” — on X. UNESCO Director-General Audrey Azoulay “Dr. Jane Goodall was able to convey the lessons of her research to everyone, especially young people. She changed the way we see Great Apes. Her chimpanzee greetings at UNESCO last year — she who so strongly supported our work for the biosphere — will echo for years to come.” — written statement.“Jane Goodall’s brilliant mind, compassionate heart, and pioneering spirit helped us better understand our connection to nature and our responsibility to defend it — and she inspired generations to do their part. It was an honor to have her alongside us just last week to share with leaders a message that is more urgent than ever.” — on X.“Thank you Jane Goodall for a lasting legacy of conservation, service to all of us, and for always being brave.” — on X. Former Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau “Heartbroken to hear of Dr. Jane Goodall’s passing. She was a pioneer whose research and advocacy reshaped our understanding of the natural world. Her wisdom and compassion will live on in every act of conservation. All of us who were so greatly inspired by her will miss her deeply.” — on X.“Jane Goodall was a legendary figure and a friend. I admired her, learned from her, and was so honored to get to spend time with her over the years. She stayed at her mission and on her mission. She changed the world and the lives of everyone she impacted. The world lost one of its best today, and I lost someone I adored.” — on X. PETA Founder Ingrid Newkirk “Jane Goodall was a gifted scientist and trailblazer who forever changed the way we view our fellow animals. Caring about all animals, she went vegan after reading Animal Liberation, and helped PETA with many campaigns, calling her 1986 visit to a Maryland laboratory full of chimpanzees in barren isolation chambers ‘the worst experience of my life.’ We could always count on her to be on the animals’ side, whether she was urging UPS to stop shipping hunting trophies, calling for SeaWorld’s closure, or a shutdown of the Oregon National Primate Research Center.” — in written statement. Kitty Block, president and CEO of Humane World for Animals “Goodall’s influence on the animal protection community is immeasurable, and her work on behalf of primates and all animals will never be forgotten.” — in written statement.“My friend Jane Goodall was the wisest and most compassionate person I’ve ever met. She could make anybody feel hopeful about the future … no matter the hardships of the present. Just this weekend, she wrote to let me know she was thinking about what she could do to alleviate all of the suffering in Gaza, in Ukraine, in Sudan, and beyond. She was my hero, my inspiration. I will miss her every single day.” — on X.“Jane Goodall was a groundbreaking scientist and leader who taught us all so much about the beauty and wonder of our world. She never stopped advocating for nature, people, and the planet we share. May she rest in peace.” — on X.The Associated Press’ climate and environmental coverage receives financial support from multiple private foundations. AP is solely responsible for all content. Find AP’s standards for working with philanthropies, a list of supporters and funded coverage areas at AP.org.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – Sept. 2025

Evolution may explain why women live longer than men

In most mammals, females live longer than males, but in birds the trend goes the other way – a study of over 1000 species points to possible reasons for these differences

Women live longer than men on average in every countryPeter Cavanagh/Alamy We now have a better idea of why women live longer than men, on average, thanks to the most comprehensive analysis yet of the differences in lifespan between male and female mammals and birds. The average global life expectancy is about 74 years for women and 68 years for men. There are various ideas to explain why women tend to live longer than men, including the suggestion that young men are more likely to die in accidents or conflicts, and that women are better protected against potentially harmful mutations in the sex-determining chromosomes than men, but the picture is far from complete. To search for clues from other animals, Johanna Stärk at the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology in Leipzig, Germany, and her colleagues analysed data on life expectancy in 1176 species – 528 mammals and 648 birds – in zoos as well as in wild populations. They found that in 72 per cent of the mammal species, females live longer than males, by 12 or 13 per cent on average. But in birds, males tend to outlive females in 68 per cent of the species, surviving about 5 per cent longer on average. The researchers say this trend backs up the idea that sex chromosomes account for some of the differences in lifespan. In mammals, having two copies of the X chromosome makes an individual genetically female, while males have two different sex chromosomes, an X and a Y. In theory, females are better protected against harmful mutations in the sex chromosomes, because the second copy of the X chromosome acts as a backup. In birds, the sex determination system is the other way around: females have two different sex chromosomes, called Z and W, while males have two Z chromosomes. So the different life expectancy trends in mammals and birds back up the idea that the sex with different chromosomes – the heterogametic sex – incurs a longevity cost. “But what was very interesting is that we found exceptions,” says team member Fernando Colchero, also at the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology. “And with those exceptions, our idea was to test other evolutionary hypotheses for why these sex differences occur.” Digging deeper into the data, the team found that mating systems seem to play a role. In polygamous mammals where there is strong competition for mates – such as baboons, gorillas and chimpanzees – males generally die earlier than females. “Due to competition for mating opportunities, individuals – typically the males – will invest into traits favoured by sexual selection, such as large body size, ornamental feathers or antlers,” says Nicole Riddle at the University of Alabama at Birmingham. “These traits are costly to produce, and there are typically other costs associated with the competition for mating opportunities, for example through fights with other males.” These factors will mean that the individual has less resources available to invest in its own long-term survival, she says. Males that invest in costly traits to win mates may have shorter lifespans as a resultRebius/Shutterstock This is also true of birds with polygamous mating systems. “Overall, this may also explain why the male advantage in birds is considerably lower than the female advantage in mammals,” says Pau Carazo at the University of Valencia in Spain. He says that in mammals, both the genetic factor and sexual selection traits work in the same direction in shortening male lifespan, whereas in birds the pressures may balance each other out, because males are often involved in strong sexual selection, but females bear the costs of heterogamy. Stärk and her colleagues also found that the sex that invests more in raising offspring tends to live longer. In mammals, this is often the females. In long-lived species like humans or other primates, this is probably evolutionarily advantageous, because it helps females survive until their offspring are sexually mature themselves. However, there were exceptions. “Birds of prey are the opposite of everything that we’re finding in the other species,” says Stärk. “The females are larger, and it’s often the females that engage much more in protection of the territory, but still females live longer.” Why is a mystery, she says. The lifespan differences between sexes are smaller in zoo populations than in wild populations, says Carazo, probably because life in captivity minimises environmental pressures like fights, predation and disease. This control over the environment might also be why lifespan differences between the sexes in humans have been shrinking, he says, although they might never go away entirely. “There are still some very strongly coded differences – physiological differences and genetic differences – between men and women,” says Colchero. “Who knows where medical sciences are going to take us, but in general, we don’t expect that those differences are completely going to disappear.”

A Revolution in Tracking Life on Earth

A suite of technologies are helping taxonomists speed up species identification.

Across a Swiss meadow and into its forested edges, the drone dragged a jumbo-size cotton swab from a 13-foot tether. Along its path, the moistened swab collected scraps of life: some combination of sloughed skin and hair; mucus, saliva, and blood splatters; pollen flecks and fungal spores.Later, biologists used a sequencer about the size of a phone to stream the landscape’s DNA into code, revealing dozens upon dozens of species, some endangered, some invasive. The researchers never saw the wasps, stink bugs, or hawk moths whose genetic signatures they collected. But all of those, and many more, were out there.The researchers, from the Swiss Federal Institute for Forest, Snow and Landscape Research, were field-testing a new approach to biodiversity monitoring, in this case to map insect life across different kinds of vegetation. They make up one of many teams now deploying a suite of technologies to track nature at a resolution and pace once unimaginable for taxonomists. “We know a lot more about what’s happening,” Camille Albouy, an environmental scientist at ETH Zurich, and member of the team, told me, “even if a lot still escapes us.”Today, autonomous robots collect DNA while state-of-the-art sequencers process genetic samples quickly and cheaply, and machine-learning algorithms detect life by sound or shape. These technologies are revolutionizing humanity’s ability to catalog Earth’s species, which are estimated to number 8 million—though perhaps far, far more—by illuminating the teeming life that so often eludes human observation. Only about 2.3 million species have been formally described. The rest are nameless and unstudied—part of what biologists call dark taxa.Insects, for example, likely compose more than half of all animal species, yet most (an estimated four out of five) have never been recorded by science. From the tropics to the poles, on land and in water, they pollinate, prey, scavenge, burrow, and parasitize—an unobserved majority of life on Earth. “It is difficult to relate to nonspecialists how vast our ignorance truly is,” an international consortium of insect scientists lamented in 2018. Valerio Caruso, an entomologist at the University of Padua, in Italy, studies scuttle flies, a skittering family containing an estimated 30,000 to 50,000 species. Only about 4,000 have been described, Caruso told me. “One lifetime is not enough to understand them all.”The minute distinctions within even one family of flies matter more than they might seem to: Species that look identical can occupy entirely different ecological niches—evading different predators and hunting different prey, parasitizing different hosts, pollinating different plants, decomposing different materials, or carrying different diseases. Each is a unique evolutionary experiment that might give rise to compounds that unlock new medicines, behaviors that offer agricultural solutions, and other adaptations that could further our understanding of how life persists.Only with today’s machines and technology do scientists stand a chance of keeping up with life’s abundance. For most of history, humans have relied primarily on their eyes to classify the natural world: Observations of shape, size, and color helped Carl Linnaeus catalog about 12,000 species in the 18th century—a monumental undertaking, but a laughable fraction of reality. Accounting for each creature demanded the meticulous labor of dehydrating, dissecting, mounting, pinning, labeling—essentially the main techniques available until the turn of the 21st century, when genetic sequencing allowed taxonomists to zoom in on DNA bar codes. Even then, those might not have identified specimens beyond genus or family.Now technologies such as eDNA, high-throughput sequencing, autonomous robotics, and AI have broadened our vision of the natural world. They decode the genomes of fungi, bacteria, and yeasts that are difficult or impossible to culture in a lab. Specialized AI isolates species’ calls from noisy recordings, translating air vibrations into an acoustic field guide. Others parse photo pixels to tease out variations in wing veins or bristles as fine as a dust mote to identify and classify closely related species. High-resolution 3-D scans allow researchers to visualize minuscule anatomies without lifting a scalpel. Other tools can map dynamic ecosystems as they transform in real time, tracking how wetlands contract and expand season by season or harnessing hundreds of millions of observations from citizen-science databases to identify species and map their shifting ranges.One unassuming setup in a lush Panamanian rainforest involved a UV light luring moths to a white panel and a solar-powered camera that snapped a photo every 10 seconds, from dusk to dawn. In a single week, AI processed many thousands of images each night, in which experts detected 2,000 moth species—half of them unknown to science. “It breaks my heart to see people think science is about wrapping up the last details of understanding, and that all the big discoveries are done,” David Rolnick, a computer scientist at McGill University and Mila - Quebec AI Institute, who was part of the expedition, told me. In Colombia, one of the world’s most biodiverse countries, the combination of drone-collected data and machine learning has helped describe tens of thousands of species, 200 of which are new to science.These tools’ field of view is still finite. AI algorithms see only as far as their training data, and taxonomical data overrepresent the global North and charismatic organisms. In a major open-access biodiversity database, for example, less than 5 percent of the entries in recent years pertained to insects, while more than 80 percent related to birds (which account for less than 1 percent of named species). Because many dark taxa are absent from training data sets, even the most advanced image-recognition models work best as triage—rapidly sorting through familiar taxa and flagging likely new discoveries for human taxonomists to investigate.AI systems “don’t have intuition; they don’t have creativity,” said Rolnick, whose team co-created Antenna, a ready-to-use AI platform for ecologists. Human taxonomists are still better at imagining how a rare feature arose evolutionarily, or exploring the slight differences that can mark an entirely new species. And ultimately, every identification—whether by algorithm or DNA or human expert—still depends on people.That human labor is also a dwindling resource, especially in entomology. “The number of people who are paid to be taxonomists in the world is practically nil,” Rolnick said. And time is against them. The world’s largest natural-history museums hold a wealth of specimens and objects (more than 1 billion, according to one study) yet only a fraction of those have digitally accessible records, and genomic records are accessible for just 0.2 percent of biological specimens. Many historical collections—all those drawers packed with pinned, flattened, and stuffed specimens; all those jars of floating beings—are chronically underfunded, and their contents are vulnerable to the physical consequences of neglect. Preservation fluids evaporate, poor storage conditions invite pests and mold, and DNA degrades until it is unsequenceable.Today’s tools are still far from fully capturing the extent and complexity of Earth’s biodiversity, and much of that could vanish before anyone catalogs it. “We are too few, studying too many things,” Caruso, the Padua entomologist, said. Many liken taxonomy to cataloging an already burning library. As Mehrdad Hajibabaei, chief scientific officer for the Center for Biodiversity Genomics at the University of Guelph, in Canada, told me: “We’re not stamp-collecting here.” Taxonomists are instead working to preserve a planetary memory—an archive of life—and to decode which traits help creatures adapt, migrate, or otherwise survive in a rapidly changing climate.The climate crisis is unraveling the life cycles of wildlife around the world—by one estimate, for about half of all species. Flowers now bloom weeks before pollinators stir; fruit withers before migrating birds can reach it. Butterflies attuned to rainfall falter in drought. Tropical birds and alpine plants climb toward cooler, though finite, mountaintops. Fish slip farther out to sea; disease-carrying mosquitoes ride the heat into new territories. Extreme weather at the poles stresses crucial moss and lichen, and shreds entire habitats in hours. Mass die-offs are now routine.“Once you lose one species, you’ll probably lose more species,” Caruso said. “Over time, everything is going to collapse.” One in eight could vanish by century’s end—many of them dark taxa, lost before we ever meet them. Most countries—and global bodies such as the International Union for Conservation of Nature—cannot assess, and therefore cannot protect, unnamed organisms. As Edward O. Wilson told Time in 1986: “It’s like having astronomy without knowing where the stars are.”Today’s machine-assisted taxonomy faces the same problem Linnaeus did: Nature’s complexity still far outstrips human insight, even with machines’ assistance. “We don’t perceive the world as it is in all its chaotic glory,” the biologist Carol Kaesuk Yoon wrote in her 2010 book, Naming Nature. “We sense a very particular subset of what surrounds us, and we see it in a particularly human way.” On the flip side, every new data point sharpens the predictive models guiding conservation, says Evgeny Zakharov, genomics director for the Center for Biodiversity Genomics. “The more we know about the world, the more power we have to properly manage and protect it,” he told me. With tools, the speed of taxonomists’ work is accelerating, but so is the countdown—they will take all the help they can get.

The first animals on Earth may have been sea sponges, study suggests

MIT researchers traced chemical fossils in ancient rocks to the ancestors of modern-day demosponges.

A team of MIT geochemists has unearthed new evidence in very old rocks suggesting that some of the first animals on Earth were likely ancestors of the modern sea sponge.In a study appearing today in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, the researchers report that they have identified “chemical fossils” that may have been left by ancient sponges in rocks that are more than 541 million years old. A chemical fossil is a remnant of a biomolecule that originated from a living organism that has since been buried, transformed, and preserved in sediment, sometimes for hundreds of millions of years.The newly identified chemical fossils are special types of steranes, which are the geologically stable form of sterols, such as cholesterol, that are found in the cell membranes of complex organisms. The researchers traced these special steranes to a class of sea sponges known as demosponges. Today, demosponges come in a huge variety of sizes and colors, and live throughout the oceans as soft and squishy filter feeders. Their ancient counterparts may have shared similar characteristics.“We don’t know exactly what these organisms would have looked like back then, but they absolutely would have lived in the ocean, they would have been soft-bodied, and we presume they didn’t have a silica skeleton,” says Roger Summons, the Schlumberger Professor of Geobiology Emeritus in MIT’s Department of Earth, Atmospheric and Planetary Sciences (EAPS).The group’s discovery of sponge-specific chemical fossils offers strong evidence that the ancestors of demosponges were among the first animals to evolve, and that they likely did so much earlier than the rest of Earth’s major animal groups.The study’s authors, including Summons, are lead author and former MIT EAPS Crosby Postdoctoral Fellow Lubna Shawar, who is now a research scientist at Caltech, along with Gordon Love from the University of California at Riverside, Benjamin Uveges of Cornell University, Alex Zumberge of GeoMark Research in Houston, Paco Cárdenas of Uppsala University in Sweden, and José-Luis Giner of the State University of New York College of Environmental Science and Forestry.Sponges on steroidsThe new study builds on findings that the group first reported in 2009. In that study, the team identified the first chemical fossils that appeared to derive from ancient sponges. They analyzed rock samples from an outcrop in Oman and found a surprising abundance of steranes that they determined were the preserved remnants of 30-carbon (C30) sterols — a rare form of steroid that they showed was likely derived from ancient sea sponges.The steranes were found in rocks that were very old and formed during the Ediacaran Period — which spans from roughly 541 million to about 635 million years ago. This period took place just before the Cambrian, when the Earth experienced a sudden and global explosion of complex multicellular life. The team’s discovery suggested that ancient sponges appeared much earlier than most multicellular life, and were possibly one of Earth’s first animals.However, soon after these findings were released, alternative hypotheses swirled to explain the C30 steranes’ origins, including that the chemicals could have been generated by other groups of organisms or by nonliving geological processes.The team says the new study reinforces their earlier hypothesis that ancient sponges left behind this special chemical record, as they have identified a new chemical fossil in the same Precambrian rocks that is almost certainly biological in origin.Building evidenceJust as in their previous work, the researchers looked for chemical fossils in rocks that date back to the Ediacaran Period. They acquired samples from drill cores and outcrops in Oman, western India, and Siberia, and analyzed the rocks for signatures of steranes, the geologically stable form of sterols found in all eukaryotes (plants, animals, and any organism with a nucleus and membrane-bound organelles).“You’re not a eukaryote if you don’t have sterols or comparable membrane lipids,” Summons says.A sterol’s core structure consists of four fused carbon rings. Additional carbon side chain and chemical add-ons can attach to and extend a sterol’s structure, depending on what an organism’s particular genes can produce. In humans, for instance, the sterol cholesterol contains 27 carbon atoms, while the sterols in plants generally have 29 carbon atoms.“It’s very unusual to find a sterol with 30 carbons,” Shawar says.The chemical fossil the researchers identified in 2009 was a 30-carbon sterol. What’s more, the team determined that the compound could be synthesized because of the presence of a distinctive enzyme which is encoded by a gene that is common to demosponges.In their new study, the team focused on the chemistry of these compounds and realized the same sponge-derived gene could produce an even rarer sterol, with 31 carbon atoms (C31). When they analyzed their rock samples for C31 steranes, they found it in surprising abundance, along with the aforementioned C30 steranes.“These special steranes were there all along,” Shawar says. “It took asking the right questions to seek them out and to really understand their meaning and from where they come.”The researchers also obtained samples of modern-day demosponges and analyzed them for C31 sterols. They found that, indeed, the sterols — biological precursors of the C31 steranes found in rocks — are present in some species of contemporary demosponges. Going a step further, they chemically synthesized eight different C31 sterols in the lab as reference standards to verify their chemical structures. Then, they processed the molecules in ways that simulate how the sterols would change when deposited, buried, and pressurized over hundreds of millions of years. They found that the products of only two such sterols were an exact match with the form of C31 sterols that they found in ancient rock samples. The presence of two and the absence of the other six demonstrates that these compounds were not produced by a random nonbiological process.The findings, reinforced by multiple lines of inquiry, strongly support the idea that the steranes that were found in ancient rocks were indeed produced by living organisms, rather than through geological processes. What’s more, those organisms were likely the ancestors of demosponges, which to this day have retained the ability to produce the same series of compounds.“It’s a combination of what’s in the rock, what’s in the sponge, and what you can make in a chemistry laboratory,” Summons says. “You’ve got three supportive, mutually agreeing lines of evidence, pointing to these sponges being among the earliest animals on Earth.”“In this study we show how to authenticate a biomarker, verifying that a signal truly comes from life rather than contamination or non-biological chemistry,” Shawar adds.Now that the team has shown C30 and C31 sterols are reliable signals of ancient sponges, they plan to look for the chemical fossils in ancient rocks from other regions of the world. They can only tell from the rocks they’ve sampled so far that the sediments, and the sponges, formed some time during the Ediacaran Period. With more samples, they will have a chance to narrow in on when some of the first animals took form.This research was supported, in part, by the MIT Crosby Fund, the Distinguished Postdoctoral Fellowship program, the Simons Foundation Collaboration on the Origins of Life, and the NASA Exobiology Program. 

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