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Horse Domestication Story Gets a Surprising Rewrite

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Tuesday, November 19, 2024

The world we live in was built on horseback. Many people today rarely encounter horses, but this is a recent development. Only a few decades ago domestic horses formed the fabric of societies around the globe. Almost every aspect of daily life was linked to horses in an important way. Mail was delivered by postal riders, people traveled by horse-drawn carriage, merchants used horses to transport goods across continents, farmers cultivated their land with horsepower, and soldiers rode horses into battle.Scholars have long sought to understand how the unique partnership between humans and horses got its start. Until recently, the conventional wisdom was that horses were gradually domesticated by the Yamnaya people beginning more than 5,000 years ago in the grassy plains of western Asia and that this development allowed these people to populate Eurasia, carrying their early Indo-European language and cultural traditions with them.Now new kinds of archaeological evidence, in conjunction with interdisciplinary collaborations, are overturning some basic assumptions about when—and why—horses were first domesticated and how rapidly they spread across the globe. These insights dramatically change our understanding of not only horses but also people, who used this important relationship to their advantage in everything from herding to warfare. This revised view of the past also has lessons for us today as we consider the fate of endangered wild horses in the steppes. And it highlights the essential value of Indigenous knowledge in piecing together later chapters of the horse-human story, when domesticated horses moved from Eurasia into the rest of the world.On supporting science journalismIf you're enjoying this article, consider supporting our award-winning journalism by subscribing. By purchasing a subscription you are helping to ensure the future of impactful stories about the discoveries and ideas shaping our world today.The genus Equus, which includes horses, asses and zebras, originated around four million years ago in North America. Over the next few million years its members began dispersing across the Beringia land bridge between what is now Russia and Alaska and into Asia, Europe and Africa. Horses are among humanity’s oldest and most prized prey animals. Perhaps the first indisputable evidence for hunting with weapons by early members of the human family comes from horse-rich archaeological sites such as Schöningen in Germany, dating to some 300,000 years ago. The unique lakeshore environment there preserved not only the remains of a band of horses but also the immaculately crafted wood spears that humans used to dispatch them. For millennia wild horses remained a dietary staple for early Homo sapiens living in northern Eurasia. People were keen observers of these animals they depended on for food: horses featured prominently in Ice Age art, including in spectacular images rendered in charcoal on the limestone walls of France’s Chauvet Cave more than 30,000 years ago.Horses served as muses for Ice Age people, who captured their likenesses in spectacular works of art, such as the images in France’s Chauvet Cave that date to more than 30,000 years ago.Heritage Images/Getty ImagesTracking the transition from this ancient predator-prey connection to early domestication—which includes such activities as raising, herding, milking and riding horses—can be challenging. Researchers studying the deep past rarely have the luxury of written documents or detailed imagery to chronicle changing relationships between people and animals. This is especially true in the Eurasian steppes—the cold, dry, remote grasslands where scientists suspect that the first horse herders emerged, which stretch from eastern Europe nearly to the Pacific. In the steppes, cultures have long been highly mobile, moving herds to fresh pastures with the changing seasons. Their way of life left behind archaeological assemblages that can be shallow, poorly preserved and difficult to study. Indeed, much of what we know about the origins of horse domestication comes from a single, powerful scientific source: the bones of ancient horses themselves.But it wasn’t until much later that people domesticated horses, as evidenced by burials at sites such as Novoil’inovskiy in Russia dating to the early second millennium B.C.E.As an archaeozoologist, I seek to understand the origins of domestication through the study of horse bones from archaeological sites. In the early days of this kind of scientific inquiry into domestication, some researchers looked for patterns in the size, shape or frequency of these bones over time. The basic logic behind this approach is that if horses were living in close contact with people, their bones might have become more widespread or more variable in shape and size than in earlier periods, whether because people were breeding them for particular traits or because they were putting the horses to work in ways that altered the animals’ bodies over the course of their life, among other factors.Burials of horses and chariots establish that early domesticated horses were used for transport.But it turns out that looking for these types of patterns in the archaeological rec­ord is a little bit like reading tea leaves. Changes in the shape or number of horse bones found at ancient sites could be caused by any number of other things, from environmental change to shifting human diets or even sampling errors. At best, these indicators give us only an indirect way to trace the origin of herding or riding.A stronger, more scientific understanding of horse domestication began to take shape in the 1990s. Building on the work of some earlier scholars, archaeologist David Anthony of Hartwick College in New York State and his colleagues identified direct evidence for domestication in horse remains, publishing their findings in Scientific American. When horses are used by people for transportation, they sometimes develop a particular pattern of damage on their teeth from the equipment that is used to control them. This damage, known as bit wear, can often be seen on the lower second premolar of horses ridden with metal mouthpieces, or bits. Anthony and his colleagues found bit wear in an ancient horse from a Ukrainian site known as Deriyevka, which was thought to have been home to an archaeological culture known as the Yamnaya people. Although the Deriyevka horse had not been directly dated, its association with the Yamnaya culture suggested that herders in the Eurasian steppes might have been raising and riding domestic horses by the fourth millennium B.C.E. or even earlier.The Deriyevka horse seemed to tie together a number of loose threads in scientists’ understanding of ancient Eurasia. Beginning after 6,000 years ago, during a period called the Eneolithic (also sometimes known as the Copper Age), large human burial mounds known as kurgans appeared across much of eastern and central Europe and the western steppes. Over the years many archaeologists and scholars hypothesized a connection linking kurgans, the spread of Indo-European languages and the first horse domestication. Specifically, they proposed that the Yamnaya people tamed horses in the Black Sea steppes and then swept across Eurasia on horseback, bringing their burial customs and an early form of Indo-European language—which is believed to have given rise to many languages spoken today, including English. On the heels of Anthony’s discovery, this framework, known as the kurgan hypothesis, gained wide currency in academic literature and popular consciousness.Unfortunately, the Deriyevka horse was not what it seemed. A decade later direct radiocarbon dating of the remains showed that the animal wasn’t nearly as old as Anthony thought. Instead it had lived and died sometime in the early first millennium B.C.E., when domestic horses and horseback riding were already widespread and well documented. But rather than rejecting the kurgan hypothesis entirely, archaeologists continued to explore other animal-bone assemblages from the western steppes dating to around the same period, searching for horse bones to validate the idea. During this search one site in particular drew renewed interest: Botai, located in northern Kazakhstan.Botai sits some distance east of the Yamnaya homeland. Despite lacking any obvious cultural connections to the Yamnaya, Botai is also located in the western steppes, and like Deriyevka, it dates to the fourth millennium B.C.E. Most interesting, the animal-bone assemblage recovered from excavations at Botai contained huge numbers of horses. In fact, among thousands of animal bones from Botai, almost all were from horses. Working with these materials, archaeologists began to discuss the relevance of Botai’s horses to the question of early domestication.Early on, the Botai domestication debate was a spicy one. First Anthony and his colleagues suggested that the strange surface shape of some Botai teeth was also a form of bit wear, hinting that the Botai horses were ridden. Soon, though, Sandra Olsen, now at the University of Kansas, identified the same features in wild horses, meaning they could not be taken as proof of domestication on their own. Scholars also looked at contextual aspects of the Botai site, including the architectural layout, speculating that post holes and backfilled pit houses filled with organic material could be leftover traces of corrals and corral cleaning.Still, other scientists remained skeptical—for good reason. Some Botai horses were found with harpoons directly embedded in their ribs, obviously killed by hunters. An even bigger problem with connecting Botai to domestication, though, was the age and sex patterns among the animals found at the site. In a managed herd of horses, those chosen for slaughter are either very young or very old because breeding-­age animals are needed to ensure the herd’s fertility and survival. Marsha Levine and her colleagues pointed out, however, that Botai’s bone assemblage consisted mainly of the remains of mostly healthy adults. Moreover, the site contained large numbers of breeding-age females, as well as some fetal and neonatal horses from pregnant mares. The slaughter of these animals would be devastating to the fertility of a domestic herd, but evidence of it is common in archaeological sites where wild animals were hunted for food.This healthy disagreement over domestication at Botai was temporarily quashed in 2009, when a high-­profile publication in the journal Science brought together new evidence apparently showing that people from Botai milked and rode horses. The authors looked at the shape of the bones of horses at Botai and argued they were similar to the modern domestic horse, Equus caballus. Using emerging techniques for the study of ancient biomolecules, scientists also analyzed ceramic shards from Botai and found residues that seemed to have come from ancient horse fats. These residues, though not diagnostic of milk on their own, had anomalous isotope values, suggesting they could have originated from milk.The most important new argument, though, was that some Botai horses displayed a different kind of tooth damage that the researchers said could be more securely linked to use of a bridle. With new results from Botai strengthening con­fidence in the idea of horse domestica­­tion during the fourth millennium B.C.E., the kurgan hypothesis returned to paradigm status.In the decade and a half since Botai revived the kurgan hypothesis, our archaeozoological tool kit for understanding ancient horses has grown by leaps and bounds. And one by one these new techniques and discoveries have begun to erode the connections between Botai and horse domestication. In a recent study, my colleagues and I analyzed dozens of wild horses from Ice Age sites across North America. Our research showed that the key features interpreted as evidence of bridle and bit use at Botai were probably the result of natural variation rather than horse riding or horse equipment.Moreover, we now know that many other aspects of horse riding can leave a recognizable signature in an animal’s teeth and bones. Halters, saddles and harnesses can make distinctive marks. And different activity patterns, from heavy exertion to confinement, also have identifiable impacts. For instance, the pressure from mounted riding or from pulling a carriage or chariot can each cause unique problems in a horse’s vertebral column or lower limbs. Even early veterinary practices such as dentistry are sometimes visible in the archaeological rec­ord. So far none of these more reliable indicators of domestication have been found in Botai horses.Horses from the site of Botai are now known to have belonged to a wild horse species, Przewalski’s horse, that was hunted for food. Conservation efforts are currently underway to restore this highly endangered species.Sven Zellner/Agentur Focus/ReduxWe can also look to DNA for clues. Improvements in ancient-DNA sequencing now allow scientists to reconstruct partial or whole genomic sequences from archaeological remains. Analysis of DNA from ancient people and animals has yielded some rather remarkable findings, documenting, for example, the migration of Yamnaya people from eastern Europe as far east as Siberia and Mongolia during the late fourth millennium B.C.E. These same techniques have shown no evidence of interaction between Yamnaya people and Botai, however.Likewise, new techniques for recovering ancient proteins from human dental plaque have shown no evidence of horse milk in the diet of the people who lived at Botai. In fact, horse milk apparently didn’t become widespread in western Asia until the first millennium B.C.E., 3,000 years after the Yamnaya and Botai.The most devastating blow to the kurgan hypothesis came accidentally from a 2018 genomic study by Charleen Gaunitz of the University of Copenhagen, Ludovic Orlando of the Center of Anthropobiology and Genomics of Toulouse in France and their colleagues that showed Botai horses were not the ancestors of domestic horses at all. Rather they were members of another horse species that still survives today, known as Przewalski’s horse. Przewalski’s horse is a close relative of domestic horses but one that has never been managed as a domestic animal in recorded history.Recent archaeological and genetic insights into horse domestication have relevance for understanding the horse human relationship today. Discoveries of an ancient saddle and other tack in Mongolia show that steppe cultures helped to invent technology that is still in use.Some scientists remain convinced that Botai has some connection to early domestication but now suggest that the site represents an earlier, failed effort at taming and control of Przewalski’s horse. In their 2018 study, Gaunitz and her colleagues went so far as to argue that modern Prze­walski’s horses might be the escaped descendants of domesticated Botai horses, a conclusion that many others in the scientific community felt was unsupported.The Botai debate has had important real-­world impacts for Przewalski’s horse. In the 20th century Przewalski’s horses went extinct in the wild, and zoo populations dwindled almost to the single digits. In recent decades these horses have returned from the brink through a careful captive-breeding program, and they have been reintroduced into some areas of Central Asia. This past June a new band of Przewalski’s horses from the Prague Zoo was released into the grasslands of central Kazakhstan, marking the first return of this species to the region in two centuries.In the long term, the success and funding of such conservation projects may hinge heavily on public support, making it imperative to get the story straight. Media attention around Botai has sometimes generated headlines suggesting that Przewalski’s horses “aren’t wild after all” and are instead domestic escapees. Narratives like these are no longer supported by the archaeological data and can imperil ongoing protection, conservation and restoration of habitat for this highly endangered species.Despite some lingering controversy over Botai, the available data emerging from new scientific approaches to studying the past paint a much clearer picture of horse domestication than we’ve ever had before. The recent spate of genomic sequencing and radiocarbon dating of horse bones from across Eurasia has all but disproved the kurgan hypothesis. Such data show us that important cultural developments in the fourth millennium B.C.E.—including the Yamnaya migration and the dissemination of kurgans and Indo-­European culture—probably took place many centuries before the first horses were domesticated, aided by the spread of other livestock such as sheep, goats and cattle and the use of cattle to pull wagons. Meanwhile many steppe people still hunted wild horses for meat.New genomic analyses led by Pablo Librado of the Institute of Evolutionary Biology in Barcelona and Orlando indicate that the ancestors of modern domestic horses originated in the Black Sea steppes around 2200 B.C.E., nearly 2,000 years later than previously thought. Although we do not yet know exactly the details of their initial domestication, it is clear based on the timing that these horses belonged to post-Yamnaya culture. Patterns in the ancient genomes suggest that in the early centuries of domestication, the horse cultures of the western steppe were selectively breeding these animals for traits such as strength and docility.Horses have figured prominently in the traditions and values of the Lakota and many other Native Nations across the Great Plains and Rockies.Courtesy of the Global Institute for Traditional SciencesThis revised timeline for horse domestication is part of a growing body of evidence that casts the Yamnaya legacy in a new light. Early Indo-European cultures such as the Yamnaya are sometimes portrayed in popular culture in a nationalist manner, with links drawn between their supposed domestication of the horse, impressive transcontinental migrations, and cultural dominance. Now science indicates that the Yamnaya probably didn’t domesticate horses at all, and their migrations were not necessarily heroic conquests. For example, new genomic data show that by around 5,000 years ago Yamnaya migrants reached as far as central Mongolia, where they are known as the Afa­nasievo culture. Although these migrants may have helped spread sheep, goats and cattle into East Asia, initially it seems their impact was limited to a few mountain regions of the eastern steppe. After the Yamnaya arrival, it would be almost 2,000 years before horses showed up in the region. And genomic analyses suggest that their Afanasievo descendants had little lasting genetic effect on later populations.The revelation that people domesticated horses much later than previously thought resolves what was always a nagging problem with the kurgan hypothesis. If horses were domesticated in the Eneolithic, why did it take centuries for much of their impact to show up in the archaeological record? Under the kurgan model, researchers often framed horse domestication as a gradual development to explain why it took so long for horses to move beyond the steppes and revolutionize trade and conflicts, for instance. When we look at our records of the past with this revised time frame for horse domestication in mind, there appears to be the rapid, disruptive and dynamic development we expected to see after all.In our new understanding it seems that almost as soon as people tamed horses, they began using them for transport. Some of the earliest robust archaeological evidence of horse domestication comes from burials of horses paired with chariots dated to around 2000 B.C.E. at sites associated with Russia’s Sintashta culture. Radiocarbon-dating and genetic records show that within only a few centuries domestic horses spread over huge swaths of the Eurasian continent. In some cases, their expansion was peaceful: as availability of horses grew across the steppes, new people incorporated horses, herding and transport into their way of life. In other instances, domesticated horses reached new locales through destructive conquests by marauding charioteers. Some cultures riding this wave of horse-drawn expansion were Indo-European; others weren’t.A nomadic family corrals livestock on horseback in Central Mongolia.Timothy Allen/Getty ImagesBy the middle of the second millennium B.C.E., horsepower had reached civilizations from Egypt and the Mediterranean to Scandinavia in the north and Mongolia and China in the east. In many cases, the arrival of horses upended the balance of power. For example, when horses first arrived in China during the late Shang dynasty, around 3,200 years ago, they were mostly a novelty for the elite. But within little more than a century a rival power, the Western Zhou, was able to marshal its strength and skill in chariotry to bring a dramatic end to Shang rule. In very short order, horses went from being a steppe curiosity to the foundation of authority for one of the largest civilizations of East Asia.In addition to clearing up these early chapters of the human-horse story, scientific archaeology has also uncovered connections between the horse cultures of the distant past and our world today. Archaeological discoveries and genomic data from the steppes and deserts of Central Asia are revealing the ways that horses and horseback riding helped humans form networks, trade routes and empires linking the ancient world in new ways.On horseback, people traveled steppe networks and the Silk Roads to move goods, plants, animals, ideas and even early pandemic diseases across Eurasia and beyond. These emerging transcontinental connections can be directly observed in the archaeological record. In Mongolia, a royal tomb from the early steppe kingdom of the Xiongnu dating to somewhere around 100 B.C.E. was found to contain a silver plate with a picture of the Greek demigod Hercules on it. Historical records document expeditions from China to Central Asia’s Ferghana Valley in search of horses, an early step in the formation of the Silk Roads trade routes, and during the height of the Tang Dynasty, a thriving trade sent horses from the Tibetan Plateau and the Himalaya to lowland China in exchange for tea. Recent DNA sequencing of the plague-­causing bacterium Yersinia pestis suggests that the earliest strains of the virus that devastated Europe first emerged deep in deserts, mountains and steppes of Central Asia before spreading along the horse-powered steppe corridors and Silk Roads in the early 14th century.The corridors and connections that ancient equestrians forged persist today: Ancient travel routes across the Mongolian steppe are now receiving makeovers with Chinese financing to serve as high-speed highways for motor vehicle transit. Even the state highway I take for my daily commute in Boulder, Colo., got its start as a 19th-century postal road.New archaeology discoveries show that steppe cultures helped to invent or spread important technologies that improved control over horses and are still used today. In Mongolia, my collaborators and I have discovered immaculately preserved ancient tack from some 1,600 years ago. This riding technology, which includes a wood frame saddle and iron stirrups, shows that steppe cultures helped to develop these equestrian devices, which gave riders greater seat stability and the ability to brace or stand in the saddle—significant advantages when it came to mounted warfare. These tools became a standard part of horse equipment in cultures all over the world, from the caliphates of Islam to the Viking explorers of the high Arctic.Archaeological science also allows us to trace the spread of domesticated horses out of Eurasia as people transported them to such places as the Sahel savanna of Africa, the Great Plains of North America, the Pampas of South America, and even island nations of Australasia and the Pacific, where horses shaped cultures across more recent periods. This work is showing some surprising results.Recently I worked with a large team of scientists, scholars and Indigenous knowledge keepers to see what archaeology, genomics and Indigenous knowledge systems could tell us about the history of domesticated horses in the U.S. The prevailing view among Western scientists was that Native American peoples did not begin caring for horses until after the Pueblo Revolt of 1680, when Pueblo people in what is now New Mexico overthrew Spanish colonizers. Through our collaboration we found that Native nations from across the Plains and Rockies adopted horses at least a century earlier than was ever chronicled in European historical records. This finding confirms perspectives preserved in some oral traditions and Tribal histories and mirrors our scholarship from similar archaeological contexts in Patagonia.Many Indigenous horse cultures, for whom a connection with horses is a source of strength, resilience and tradition, are now drawing on collaborative and interdisciplinary archaeological scholarship in their efforts to correct narratives, conserve traditional horse lineages and secure a place for horses in our changing world.In many ways, the disappearance of horses from daily life in the past century has been as rapid and jarring as their initial domestication 4,000 years ago. In most corners of the world speedy mechanization has replaced trails with pavement and horse transport with engine-powered or electric alternatives. These days, along the Front Range of the Rockies, people wearing jeans and cowboy hats once designed for life in the saddle are more likely to be found shopping at Whole Foods than slinging lassos.But the threads linking our ever changing present to the distant past are never far if you know where to look. Resolution of some of the most urgent problems of the 21st century—from saving endangered species to conserving cultural knowledge and traditions—will require a clear-headed and scientifically grounded understanding of the millennia-long relationship between human and horse.

Archaeological and genetic discoveries topple long-standing ideas about the domestication of equines

The world we live in was built on horseback. Many people today rarely encounter horses, but this is a recent development. Only a few decades ago domestic horses formed the fabric of societies around the globe. Almost every aspect of daily life was linked to horses in an important way. Mail was delivered by postal riders, people traveled by horse-drawn carriage, merchants used horses to transport goods across continents, farmers cultivated their land with horsepower, and soldiers rode horses into battle.

Scholars have long sought to understand how the unique partnership between humans and horses got its start. Until recently, the conventional wisdom was that horses were gradually domesticated by the Yamnaya people beginning more than 5,000 years ago in the grassy plains of western Asia and that this development allowed these people to populate Eurasia, carrying their early Indo-European language and cultural traditions with them.

Now new kinds of archaeological evidence, in conjunction with interdisciplinary collaborations, are overturning some basic assumptions about when—and why—horses were first domesticated and how rapidly they spread across the globe. These insights dramatically change our understanding of not only horses but also people, who used this important relationship to their advantage in everything from herding to warfare. This revised view of the past also has lessons for us today as we consider the fate of endangered wild horses in the steppes. And it highlights the essential value of Indigenous knowledge in piecing together later chapters of the horse-human story, when domesticated horses moved from Eurasia into the rest of the world.


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The genus Equus, which includes horses, asses and zebras, originated around four million years ago in North America. Over the next few million years its members began dispersing across the Beringia land bridge between what is now Russia and Alaska and into Asia, Europe and Africa. Horses are among humanity’s oldest and most prized prey animals. Perhaps the first indisputable evidence for hunting with weapons by early members of the human family comes from horse-rich archaeological sites such as Schöningen in Germany, dating to some 300,000 years ago. The unique lakeshore environment there preserved not only the remains of a band of horses but also the immaculately crafted wood spears that humans used to dispatch them. For millennia wild horses remained a dietary staple for early Homo sapiens living in northern Eurasia. People were keen observers of these animals they depended on for food: horses featured prominently in Ice Age art, including in spectacular images rendered in charcoal on the limestone walls of France’s Chauvet Cave more than 30,000 years ago.

Illustrations/images in France’s Chauvet Cave of horses

Horses served as muses for Ice Age people, who captured their likenesses in spectacular works of art, such as the images in France’s Chauvet Cave that date to more than 30,000 years ago.

Heritage Images/Getty Images

Tracking the transition from this ancient predator-prey connection to early domestication—which includes such activities as raising, herding, milking and riding horses—can be challenging. Researchers studying the deep past rarely have the luxury of written documents or detailed imagery to chronicle changing relationships between people and animals. This is especially true in the Eurasian steppes—the cold, dry, remote grasslands where scientists suspect that the first horse herders emerged, which stretch from eastern Europe nearly to the Pacific. In the steppes, cultures have long been highly mobile, moving herds to fresh pastures with the changing seasons. Their way of life left behind archaeological assemblages that can be shallow, poorly preserved and difficult to study. Indeed, much of what we know about the origins of horse domestication comes from a single, powerful scientific source: the bones of ancient horses themselves.

Bones in a burial site

But it wasn’t until much later that people domesticated horses, as evidenced by burials at sites such as Novoil’inovskiy in Russia dating to the early second millennium B.C.E.

As an archaeozoologist, I seek to understand the origins of domestication through the study of horse bones from archaeological sites. In the early days of this kind of scientific inquiry into domestication, some researchers looked for patterns in the size, shape or frequency of these bones over time. The basic logic behind this approach is that if horses were living in close contact with people, their bones might have become more widespread or more variable in shape and size than in earlier periods, whether because people were breeding them for particular traits or because they were putting the horses to work in ways that altered the animals’ bodies over the course of their life, among other factors.

Burials of horses and chariots

Burials of horses and chariots establish that early domesticated horses were used for transport.

But it turns out that looking for these types of patterns in the archaeological rec­ord is a little bit like reading tea leaves. Changes in the shape or number of horse bones found at ancient sites could be caused by any number of other things, from environmental change to shifting human diets or even sampling errors. At best, these indicators give us only an indirect way to trace the origin of herding or riding.

A stronger, more scientific understanding of horse domestication began to take shape in the 1990s. Building on the work of some earlier scholars, archaeologist David Anthony of Hartwick College in New York State and his colleagues identified direct evidence for domestication in horse remains, publishing their findings in Scientific American. When horses are used by people for transportation, they sometimes develop a particular pattern of damage on their teeth from the equipment that is used to control them. This damage, known as bit wear, can often be seen on the lower second premolar of horses ridden with metal mouthpieces, or bits. Anthony and his colleagues found bit wear in an ancient horse from a Ukrainian site known as Deriyevka, which was thought to have been home to an archaeological culture known as the Yamnaya people. Although the Deriyevka horse had not been directly dated, its association with the Yamnaya culture suggested that herders in the Eurasian steppes might have been raising and riding domestic horses by the fourth millennium B.C.E. or even earlier.

The Deriyevka horse seemed to tie together a number of loose threads in scientists’ understanding of ancient Eurasia. Beginning after 6,000 years ago, during a period called the Eneolithic (also sometimes known as the Copper Age), large human burial mounds known as kurgans appeared across much of eastern and central Europe and the western steppes. Over the years many archaeologists and scholars hypothesized a connection linking kurgans, the spread of Indo-European languages and the first horse domestication. Specifically, they proposed that the Yamnaya people tamed horses in the Black Sea steppes and then swept across Eurasia on horseback, bringing their burial customs and an early form of Indo-European language—which is believed to have given rise to many languages spoken today, including English. On the heels of Anthony’s discovery, this framework, known as the kurgan hypothesis, gained wide currency in academic literature and popular consciousness.

Unfortunately, the Deriyevka horse was not what it seemed. A decade later direct radiocarbon dating of the remains showed that the animal wasn’t nearly as old as Anthony thought. Instead it had lived and died sometime in the early first millennium B.C.E., when domestic horses and horseback riding were already widespread and well documented. But rather than rejecting the kurgan hypothesis entirely, archaeologists continued to explore other animal-bone assemblages from the western steppes dating to around the same period, searching for horse bones to validate the idea. During this search one site in particular drew renewed interest: Botai, located in northern Kazakhstan.

Maps show wild horse dispersal from North America, domestication and initial waves of domestic horse dispersal from the Black Sea Steppe, and continued global dispersal by land and sea.

Botai sits some distance east of the Yamnaya homeland. Despite lacking any obvious cultural connections to the Yamnaya, Botai is also located in the western steppes, and like Deriyevka, it dates to the fourth millennium B.C.E. Most interesting, the animal-bone assemblage recovered from excavations at Botai contained huge numbers of horses. In fact, among thousands of animal bones from Botai, almost all were from horses. Working with these materials, archaeologists began to discuss the relevance of Botai’s horses to the question of early domestication.

Early on, the Botai domestication debate was a spicy one. First Anthony and his colleagues suggested that the strange surface shape of some Botai teeth was also a form of bit wear, hinting that the Botai horses were ridden. Soon, though, Sandra Olsen, now at the University of Kansas, identified the same features in wild horses, meaning they could not be taken as proof of domestication on their own. Scholars also looked at contextual aspects of the Botai site, including the architectural layout, speculating that post holes and backfilled pit houses filled with organic material could be leftover traces of corrals and corral cleaning.

Still, other scientists remained skeptical—for good reason. Some Botai horses were found with harpoons directly embedded in their ribs, obviously killed by hunters. An even bigger problem with connecting Botai to domestication, though, was the age and sex patterns among the animals found at the site. In a managed herd of horses, those chosen for slaughter are either very young or very old because breeding-­age animals are needed to ensure the herd’s fertility and survival. Marsha Levine and her colleagues pointed out, however, that Botai’s bone assemblage consisted mainly of the remains of mostly healthy adults. Moreover, the site contained large numbers of breeding-age females, as well as some fetal and neonatal horses from pregnant mares. The slaughter of these animals would be devastating to the fertility of a domestic herd, but evidence of it is common in archaeological sites where wild animals were hunted for food.

This healthy disagreement over domestication at Botai was temporarily quashed in 2009, when a high-­profile publication in the journal Science brought together new evidence apparently showing that people from Botai milked and rode horses. The authors looked at the shape of the bones of horses at Botai and argued they were similar to the modern domestic horse, Equus caballus. Using emerging techniques for the study of ancient biomolecules, scientists also analyzed ceramic shards from Botai and found residues that seemed to have come from ancient horse fats. These residues, though not diagnostic of milk on their own, had anomalous isotope values, suggesting they could have originated from milk.

The most important new argument, though, was that some Botai horses displayed a different kind of tooth damage that the researchers said could be more securely linked to use of a bridle. With new results from Botai strengthening con­fidence in the idea of horse domestica­­tion during the fourth millennium B.C.E., the kurgan hypothesis returned to paradigm status.

In the decade and a half since Botai revived the kurgan hypothesis, our archaeozoological tool kit for understanding ancient horses has grown by leaps and bounds. And one by one these new techniques and discoveries have begun to erode the connections between Botai and horse domestication. In a recent study, my colleagues and I analyzed dozens of wild horses from Ice Age sites across North America. Our research showed that the key features interpreted as evidence of bridle and bit use at Botai were probably the result of natural variation rather than horse riding or horse equipment.

Moreover, we now know that many other aspects of horse riding can leave a recognizable signature in an animal’s teeth and bones. Halters, saddles and harnesses can make distinctive marks. And different activity patterns, from heavy exertion to confinement, also have identifiable impacts. For instance, the pressure from mounted riding or from pulling a carriage or chariot can each cause unique problems in a horse’s vertebral column or lower limbs. Even early veterinary practices such as dentistry are sometimes visible in the archaeological rec­ord. So far none of these more reliable indicators of domestication have been found in Botai horses.

A group of horses grazing in a field

Horses from the site of Botai are now known to have belonged to a wild horse species, Przewalski’s horse, that was hunted for food. Conservation efforts are currently underway to restore this highly endangered species.

Sven Zellner/Agentur Focus/Redux

We can also look to DNA for clues. Improvements in ancient-DNA sequencing now allow scientists to reconstruct partial or whole genomic sequences from archaeological remains. Analysis of DNA from ancient people and animals has yielded some rather remarkable findings, documenting, for example, the migration of Yamnaya people from eastern Europe as far east as Siberia and Mongolia during the late fourth millennium B.C.E. These same techniques have shown no evidence of interaction between Yamnaya people and Botai, however.

Likewise, new techniques for recovering ancient proteins from human dental plaque have shown no evidence of horse milk in the diet of the people who lived at Botai. In fact, horse milk apparently didn’t become widespread in western Asia until the first millennium B.C.E., 3,000 years after the Yamnaya and Botai.

The most devastating blow to the kurgan hypothesis came accidentally from a 2018 genomic study by Charleen Gaunitz of the University of Copenhagen, Ludovic Orlando of the Center of Anthropobiology and Genomics of Toulouse in France and their colleagues that showed Botai horses were not the ancestors of domestic horses at all. Rather they were members of another horse species that still survives today, known as Przewalski’s horse. Przewalski’s horse is a close relative of domestic horses but one that has never been managed as a domestic animal in recorded history.

Photograph of an ancient saddle

Recent archaeological and genetic insights into horse domestication have relevance for understanding the horse human relationship today. Discoveries of an ancient saddle and other tack in Mongolia show that steppe cultures helped to invent technology that is still in use.

Some scientists remain convinced that Botai has some connection to early domestication but now suggest that the site represents an earlier, failed effort at taming and control of Przewalski’s horse. In their 2018 study, Gaunitz and her colleagues went so far as to argue that modern Prze­walski’s horses might be the escaped descendants of domesticated Botai horses, a conclusion that many others in the scientific community felt was unsupported.

The Botai debate has had important real-­world impacts for Przewalski’s horse. In the 20th century Przewalski’s horses went extinct in the wild, and zoo populations dwindled almost to the single digits. In recent decades these horses have returned from the brink through a careful captive-breeding program, and they have been reintroduced into some areas of Central Asia. This past June a new band of Przewalski’s horses from the Prague Zoo was released into the grasslands of central Kazakhstan, marking the first return of this species to the region in two centuries.

In the long term, the success and funding of such conservation projects may hinge heavily on public support, making it imperative to get the story straight. Media attention around Botai has sometimes generated headlines suggesting that Przewalski’s horses “aren’t wild after all” and are instead domestic escapees. Narratives like these are no longer supported by the archaeological data and can imperil ongoing protection, conservation and restoration of habitat for this highly endangered species.


Despite some lingering controversy over Botai, the available data emerging from new scientific approaches to studying the past paint a much clearer picture of horse domestication than we’ve ever had before. The recent spate of genomic sequencing and radiocarbon dating of horse bones from across Eurasia has all but disproved the kurgan hypothesis. Such data show us that important cultural developments in the fourth millennium B.C.E.—including the Yamnaya migration and the dissemination of kurgans and Indo-­European culture—probably took place many centuries before the first horses were domesticated, aided by the spread of other livestock such as sheep, goats and cattle and the use of cattle to pull wagons. Meanwhile many steppe people still hunted wild horses for meat.

New genomic analyses led by Pablo Librado of the Institute of Evolutionary Biology in Barcelona and Orlando indicate that the ancestors of modern domestic horses originated in the Black Sea steppes around 2200 B.C.E., nearly 2,000 years later than previously thought. Although we do not yet know exactly the details of their initial domestication, it is clear based on the timing that these horses belonged to post-Yamnaya culture. Patterns in the ancient genomes suggest that in the early centuries of domestication, the horse cultures of the western steppe were selectively breeding these animals for traits such as strength and docility.

A Native American woman petting a horse outdoors

Horses have figured prominently in the traditions and values of the Lakota and many other Native Nations across the Great Plains and Rockies.

Courtesy of the Global Institute for Traditional Sciences

This revised timeline for horse domestication is part of a growing body of evidence that casts the Yamnaya legacy in a new light. Early Indo-European cultures such as the Yamnaya are sometimes portrayed in popular culture in a nationalist manner, with links drawn between their supposed domestication of the horse, impressive transcontinental migrations, and cultural dominance. Now science indicates that the Yamnaya probably didn’t domesticate horses at all, and their migrations were not necessarily heroic conquests. For example, new genomic data show that by around 5,000 years ago Yamnaya migrants reached as far as central Mongolia, where they are known as the Afa­nasievo culture. Although these migrants may have helped spread sheep, goats and cattle into East Asia, initially it seems their impact was limited to a few mountain regions of the eastern steppe. After the Yamnaya arrival, it would be almost 2,000 years before horses showed up in the region. And genomic analyses suggest that their Afanasievo descendants had little lasting genetic effect on later populations.

The revelation that people domesticated horses much later than previously thought resolves what was always a nagging problem with the kurgan hypothesis. If horses were domesticated in the Eneolithic, why did it take centuries for much of their impact to show up in the archaeological record? Under the kurgan model, researchers often framed horse domestication as a gradual development to explain why it took so long for horses to move beyond the steppes and revolutionize trade and conflicts, for instance. When we look at our records of the past with this revised time frame for horse domestication in mind, there appears to be the rapid, disruptive and dynamic development we expected to see after all.

In our new understanding it seems that almost as soon as people tamed horses, they began using them for transport. Some of the earliest robust archaeological evidence of horse domestication comes from burials of horses paired with chariots dated to around 2000 B.C.E. at sites associated with Russia’s Sintashta culture. Radiocarbon-dating and genetic records show that within only a few centuries domestic horses spread over huge swaths of the Eurasian continent. In some cases, their expansion was peaceful: as availability of horses grew across the steppes, new people incorporated horses, herding and transport into their way of life. In other instances, domesticated horses reached new locales through destructive conquests by marauding charioteers. Some cultures riding this wave of horse-drawn expansion were Indo-European; others weren’t.

Photograph of a nomadic family corrals livestock on horseback

A nomadic family corrals livestock on horseback in Central Mongolia.

Timothy Allen/Getty Images

By the middle of the second millennium B.C.E., horsepower had reached civilizations from Egypt and the Mediterranean to Scandinavia in the north and Mongolia and China in the east. In many cases, the arrival of horses upended the balance of power. For example, when horses first arrived in China during the late Shang dynasty, around 3,200 years ago, they were mostly a novelty for the elite. But within little more than a century a rival power, the Western Zhou, was able to marshal its strength and skill in chariotry to bring a dramatic end to Shang rule. In very short order, horses went from being a steppe curiosity to the foundation of authority for one of the largest civilizations of East Asia.

In addition to clearing up these early chapters of the human-horse story, scientific archaeology has also uncovered connections between the horse cultures of the distant past and our world today. Archaeological discoveries and genomic data from the steppes and deserts of Central Asia are revealing the ways that horses and horseback riding helped humans form networks, trade routes and empires linking the ancient world in new ways.

On horseback, people traveled steppe networks and the Silk Roads to move goods, plants, animals, ideas and even early pandemic diseases across Eurasia and beyond. These emerging transcontinental connections can be directly observed in the archaeological record. In Mongolia, a royal tomb from the early steppe kingdom of the Xiongnu dating to somewhere around 100 B.C.E. was found to contain a silver plate with a picture of the Greek demigod Hercules on it. Historical records document expeditions from China to Central Asia’s Ferghana Valley in search of horses, an early step in the formation of the Silk Roads trade routes, and during the height of the Tang Dynasty, a thriving trade sent horses from the Tibetan Plateau and the Himalaya to lowland China in exchange for tea. Recent DNA sequencing of the plague-­causing bacterium Yersinia pestis suggests that the earliest strains of the virus that devastated Europe first emerged deep in deserts, mountains and steppes of Central Asia before spreading along the horse-powered steppe corridors and Silk Roads in the early 14th century.

The corridors and connections that ancient equestrians forged persist today: Ancient travel routes across the Mongolian steppe are now receiving makeovers with Chinese financing to serve as high-speed highways for motor vehicle transit. Even the state highway I take for my daily commute in Boulder, Colo., got its start as a 19th-century postal road.

New archaeology discoveries show that steppe cultures helped to invent or spread important technologies that improved control over horses and are still used today. In Mongolia, my collaborators and I have discovered immaculately preserved ancient tack from some 1,600 years ago. This riding technology, which includes a wood frame saddle and iron stirrups, shows that steppe cultures helped to develop these equestrian devices, which gave riders greater seat stability and the ability to brace or stand in the saddle—significant advantages when it came to mounted warfare. These tools became a standard part of horse equipment in cultures all over the world, from the caliphates of Islam to the Viking explorers of the high Arctic.

Archaeological science also allows us to trace the spread of domesticated horses out of Eurasia as people transported them to such places as the Sahel savanna of Africa, the Great Plains of North America, the Pampas of South America, and even island nations of Australasia and the Pacific, where horses shaped cultures across more recent periods. This work is showing some surprising results.

Recently I worked with a large team of scientists, scholars and Indigenous knowledge keepers to see what archaeology, genomics and Indigenous knowledge systems could tell us about the history of domesticated horses in the U.S. The prevailing view among Western scientists was that Native American peoples did not begin caring for horses until after the Pueblo Revolt of 1680, when Pueblo people in what is now New Mexico overthrew Spanish colonizers. Through our collaboration we found that Native nations from across the Plains and Rockies adopted horses at least a century earlier than was ever chronicled in European historical records. This finding confirms perspectives preserved in some oral traditions and Tribal histories and mirrors our scholarship from similar archaeological contexts in Patagonia.

Many Indigenous horse cultures, for whom a connection with horses is a source of strength, resilience and tradition, are now drawing on collaborative and interdisciplinary archaeological scholarship in their efforts to correct narratives, conserve traditional horse lineages and secure a place for horses in our changing world.

In many ways, the disappearance of horses from daily life in the past century has been as rapid and jarring as their initial domestication 4,000 years ago. In most corners of the world speedy mechanization has replaced trails with pavement and horse transport with engine-powered or electric alternatives. These days, along the Front Range of the Rockies, people wearing jeans and cowboy hats once designed for life in the saddle are more likely to be found shopping at Whole Foods than slinging lassos.

But the threads linking our ever changing present to the distant past are never far if you know where to look. Resolution of some of the most urgent problems of the 21st century—from saving endangered species to conserving cultural knowledge and traditions—will require a clear-headed and scientifically grounded understanding of the millennia-long relationship between human and horse.

Read the full story here.
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Complex Life May Have Evolved Multiple Times

Controversial evidence hints that complex life might have emerged hundreds of millions of years earlier than previously thought—and possibly more than once

In his laboratory at the University of Poitiers in France, Abderrazak El Albani contemplates the rock glittering in his hands. To the untrained eye, the specimen resembles a piece of golden tortellini embedded in a small slab of black shale. To El Albani, a geochemist, the pasta-shaped component looks like the remains of a complex life-form that became fossilized when the sparkling mineral pyrite replaced the organism’s tissues after death. But the rock is hundreds of millions of years older than the oldest accepted fossils of advanced multicellular life. The question of whether it is a paradigm-shifting fossil or merely an ordinary lump of fool’s gold has consumed El Albani for the past 17 years.In January 2008 El Albani, a talkative French Moroccan, was picking over an exposed scrape of black shale outside the town of Franceville in Gabon. Lying under rolling hills of tropical savanna, cut in places by muddy rivers lined by jungle, the rock layers of the Francevillian Basin are up to 2.14 billion years old. The strata are laced with enough manganese to support a massive mining industry. But El Albani was there pursuing riches of a different kind.Most sedimentary rocks of that age are thoroughly “cooked,” transformed beyond recognition by the brutal heat and pressure of deep burial and deeper time. Limestone is converted to marble, sandstone to quartzite. But through an accident of geology, the Francevillian rocks were protected, and their sediments have maintained something of their original shape, crystal structure and mineral composition. As a result, they offer a rare window into a stretch of time when, according to paleontologists, oxygen was in much shorter supply and Earth’s environments would have been hostile to multicellular organisms like the ones that surround us today.On supporting science journalismIf you're enjoying this article, consider supporting our award-winning journalism by subscribing. By purchasing a subscription you are helping to ensure the future of impactful stories about the discoveries and ideas shaping our world today.El Albani had been invited out by the Gabonese government to conduct a geological survey of the ancient sediments. He spent half a day wandering the five-meter-deep layer of the quarry, peeling apart slabs of shale as if opening pages of a book. The rocks were filled with gleaming bits of pyrite that occurred in a variety of bizarre shapes. El Albani couldn’t immediately explain their appearance by any common sedimentary process. Baffled, he took a few samples with him when he returned to Poitiers. Two months later he scraped together funding to head back to the Francevillian quarry. This time he went home with more than 200 kilograms of specimens in his luggage.In 2010 El Albani and a team of his colleagues made a bombshell claim based on those finds: the strangely shaped specimens they’d recovered in Franceville were fossils of complex life-forms—organisms made up of multiple, specialized cells—that lived in colonies long before any such thing is supposed to have existed. If the scientists were right, the traditional account of life’s beginning, which holds that complex life originated once around 1.6 billion years ago, is wrong. And not only did complex multicellular life appear earlier than previously thought, but it might have done so multiple times, sprouting seedlings that were wiped away by a volatile Earth eons before our lineage took root. El Albani and his colleagues have pursued this argument ever since.Rocks from the Francevillian Basin in Gabon are filled with gleaming shapes that have been interpreted as fossils of complex life-forms from more than two billion years ago.Abderrazak El Albani/University of PoitiersThe potential implications of their claims are immense—they stand to rewrite nearly the entire history of life on Earth. They’re also incredibly controversial. Almost immediately, prominent researchers argued that El Albani’s specimens are actually concretions of natural pyrite that only look like fossils. Mentions of the Francevillian rocks in the scientific literature tend to be accompanied by words such as “uncertain” and “questionable.”Yet even as most experts regard the Francevillian specimens with a skeptical eye, a slew of recent discoveries from other teams have challenged older, simpler stories about the origin of life. Together with these new finds, the sparkling rock El Albani held in his hands has raised some very tricky questions. What conditions did complex life need to emerge? How can we recognize remains of life from deep time when organisms then would have been entirely different from those that we know? And where do the burdens of proof lie for establishing that complex life arose far earlier than previously thought—and more than just once?By most accounts, life on Earth first emerged around four billion years ago. In the beginning, the oxygen that sustains most species today had yet to suffuse the world’s atmosphere and oceans. Single-celled microbes reigned supreme. In the anoxic waters, bacteria spread and fed on minerals around hydrothermal vents. Then, maybe 2.5 billion years ago, so-called cyanobacteria that gathered in mats and gave rise to great stone domes called stromatolites began feeding themselves using the power of the sun. In doing so, they kick-started a slow transformation of the planet, pumping Earth’s seas and atmosphere full of oxygen as a by-product of their feeding.That transformation would eventually devastate the first, oxygen-averse microbial residents of Earth. But amid a gathering oxygen apocalypse, something new appeared. Roughly two billion years ago a symbiotic union between two groups of single-celled organisms—one of which was able to process oxygen—gave rise to the earliest eukaryotes: larger cells with a membrane-bound nucleus, distinctive biochemistry and an aptitude for sticking together. Somewhere in the vast sweep of time between then and now, in something of a glorious accident, those eukaryotes began banding together in specialized ways, forming intricate and increasingly complex multicellular organisms: algae, seaweeds, plants, fungi and animals.Scholars have long endeavored to understand when that transition from the single-celled to the multicellular happened. By the mid-19th century researchers noticed that the fossil record got considerably livelier at a certain point, which we now know was around 540 million years ago. During this period, called the Cambrian, multicellular eukaryotes seemed to explode in diversity out of nowhere. Suddenly the seas were filled with trilobites, meter-long predatory arthropods, and even the earliest forerunners of vertebrates, the backboned lineage of animals to which we humans belong.But it wasn’t long before scientists began finding older hints of multicellular organisms, suggesting that complex life proliferated before the Cambrian. In 1868 a geologist proposed that tiny, disk-shaped objects from sediments more than 500 million years old in Newfoundland were fossils—only for other researchers to dismiss them as inorganic concretions. Similarly ancient fossils from elsewhere in the world turned up over the first half of the 20th century. The most famous of them—discovered in Australia’s Ediacara Hills by geologist Reginald Claude Sprigg, who took them to be jellyfish—helped to push the dawn of complex life back to least 600 million years ago, into what came to be called the Ediacaran period.Still, a gap of more than a billion years separates the earliest known eukaryotes and their great flowering in the Ediacaran. The contrast between the apparent evolutionary stasis of the bulk of this period and the eventful periods before and after it is so stark that researchers variously refer to it as “the dullest time in Earth’s history” and the “boring billion.” Why didn’t many-celled eukaryotes start diversifying earlier, wonders Susannah Porter, a paleontologist at the University of California, Santa Barbara? Why didn’t they explode until the Ediacaran?Researchers have historically blamed environmental conditions on ancient Earth for the delay. The dawn of the Ediacaran, they note, coincided with a noticeable shift in global conditions 635 million years ago. In the wake of a world-spanning glacial event—the so-called Snowball Earth period, when great sheets of ice scraped the continents and covered the seas—the available nutrients in the oceans shifted amid a surge in levels of available oxygen. The friendlier water chemistry and more abundant oxygen provided new opportunities for eukaryotic organisms that could exploit them. They diversified quickly and dramatically, first into the stationary animals of the Ediacaran and eventually into the more active grazers and hunters of the Cambrian. It’s a commonly cited explanation for the timing of life’s big bang, one that the field tends to accept, Porter says. And it may well be correct. But if you asked El Albani, he’d say it’s not the whole story—far from it.As a kid growing up in Marrakech, El Albani wasn’t interested in geology; football and medicine held more appeal. He drifted into the field when he was 20 largely because it let him spend time outside. He then fell in love with it in part because like his father, a police officer, he enjoys a good investigation, working out what happened in some distant event by laying out multiple lines of evidence.In the case of the ancient Gabon “fossils,” the first line of evidence involves the unusual geology of the Francevillian formation. Unlike most sedimentary rocks laid down two billion years ago—fated for deep burial and transformative heat and pressure—the Francevillian strata sit within a bowl of much tougher rock, which prevented them from being cooked. The result: shales able to preserve both biological forms and something close to the primary chemicals and minerals present in the marine sediments. “It gives us the possibility of actually reconstructing this environment that existed in the past, at a scale that we don’t see anywhere around this time,” says Ernest Chi Fru, a biogeochemist at Cardiff University in Wales, who has worked with El Albani on the Francevillian material. If you were searching for fossils of relatively large, soft-bodied multicellular organisms from this period, the Francevillian is exactly the kind of place you’d look in.“I don’t know what we need to show to prove, to convince.” —Abderrazak El Albani University of PoitiersEl Albani’s team has recovered quite a few such specimens. Three narrow rooms in the geology building at the University of Poitiers house the Francevillian collection. More than 6,000 pieces—all of them collected from the same five-meter scrape of Gabonese shale—sprawl over wood shelves and tables and glass display cabinets, the black slabs arranged in puzzle-piece configurations under white walls. El Albani is eager to show them off. He plucks out rock after rock, no sooner highlighting one when he’s distracted by another. Here are the ripplelike remnants of bacterial mats. There are the specimens encrusted with pyrite: the common, tortellinilike “lobate” forms that made the cover of the journal Nature in 2010, “tubate” shapes that resemble stethoscopes and spoons, and other forms similar to strings of pearls several centimeters long. There are strange, wormlike tracks that the team has suggested could be traces of movement. There are nonpyritized remains, too: sand-dollar-like circles ranging from one to several centimeters across imprinted on the shales.“Et voilà,” El Albani says, tapping one specimen and then another. “You see? This is totally different.” The sheer variety of forms is why he’s always surprised that people could look at them and assume they aren’t in fact fossils. Nevertheless, his lab has been exploring ways to attempt to prove their identity.One approach El Albani’s lab has taken recently is looking into the chemistry of the specimens. Eukaryotic organisms tend to take up lighter forms, or isotopes, of elements such as zinc rather than heavy ones. When examining the sand-dollar-shaped impressions in 2023, the team found that the zinc isotopes in them were mostly lighter forms, suggesting the impressions could have been made by eukaryotes. (An independent team ran a similar study of one of the pyritized specimens and reached a similar conclusion.)Earlier this year El Albani’s Ph.D. student Anna El Khoury reported another potential chemical signal for life in the contested rocks. Organisms in areas thick with arsenic sometimes absorb the poisonous chemical instead of necessary nutrients such as phosphate. Whereas confirmed mineral concretions from the Francevillian show a random distribution of arsenic in the rock, the possibly organic specimens El Khoury looked at showed dramatic concentrations of the toxin only in certain parts of the specimens, as would be expected if an organism’s cells were working to isolate the absorbed substance from more vulnerable tissues.What El Albani and his colleagues find most telling, however, are the environmental conditions that are now known to have prevailed when the putative fossils formed. The sediments that make up the Francevillian strata appear to have been deposited in something like an inland sea. The rocks show signals of dramatic underwater volcanism and hydrothermal vent activity from long before the first fossil specimens appear, which left the basin awash in nutrients such as phosphorus and zinc that are crucial for the chemical processes that power living cells.Chemical analyses of the Francevillian specimens suggest that they are the remains of eukaryotic organisms.Abderrazak El Albani/University of PoitiersWhat is more, the Francevillian samples, like the Ediacaran fossils, are from a time after a major period of ice ages: the Huronian glaciation event, wherein a surge in oxygen levels and a reduction in the greenhouse effect 2.4 billion to 2.1 billion years ago unleashed massive walls of ice from the poles. According to some analyses, that spike in oxygen levels might have hit a peak close to that in the Ediacaran before eventually falling again. In other words, the same environmental conditions that are thought to have allowed complex life to flower during the Ediacaran also occurred far earlier and could have set the stage for the emergence of Francevillian life-forms.Talk with the people in El Albani’s lab about the Francevillian, and they’ll paint you a picture of an alien world. Ancient shorelines run under the brooding gaze of distant mountains, silent but for the wind and the waves. Thick mats of bacteria stretch across the underwater sediments. Swim down 20 meters offshore, through waters thick with nutrients and heavy metals such as arsenic, and you might see colonies of spherical and tube-shaped organisms clustered amid the mats. In the oxygen-rich water column, soft-bodied organisms drift like jellyfish, sinking now and then into the mire. Below the silt, unseen movers leave spiraling mucus trails in the ooze.What were these strange forms of life? Not plants or animals as we understand them. Based on the sizes, shapes and geochemical signatures of the putative fossils, El Albani thinks they might belong to a lineage of colonial eukaryotes—perhaps something resembling a slime mold—that independently developed the complex multicellular processes needed to survive at large sizes. These colonial organisms would have been comparatively early offshoots of the eukaryotic tree, making them an entirely independent flowering of complex multicellular life from the Ediacaran bloom that took place more than a billion years later.The Francevillian organisms flourished for a time, but they did not last. After a few millennia, underwater volcanism started up again, and oxygen levels crashed. A billion years would pass before another global icebox phase and another oxygen spike gave multicellular eukaryotes another shot at emergence.This story flies in the face of decades of thinking about how complex life arose. El Albani’s team argues that rather than long epochs of stillness and stasis, rather than the rise of complex life being an extraordinary and long-brewing accident in Earth’s long history, multicellular organisms might not have been a singular innovation. “It seems to me that [the Francevillian material] is showing that complex life might have evolved twice in history,” Chi Fru says. And if ancient complex life can emerge so quickly when conditions are right, who knows where else in Earth’s rocks—or another planet’s—signs of another blossoming might turn up next? “If,” of course, being the operative word.Skeptics of El Albani’s Francevillian “fossils”—and there are many—have tended to gather around similar sticking points, says Leigh Anne Riedman, a paleontologist at the University of California, Santa Barbara. For one thing, the bizarre shapes of the rocks show a lot more variety than tends to be seen in accepted early complex multicellular forms, and with their amorphous, asymmetrical features, they do not scan easily as organisms.The pyritized nature of the rocks may also be cause for concern. Colonies of bacteria living in oxygen-poor environments often deposit pyrite as a by-product. Although such colonies can grow a sparkling rind around biological material, the mineral concretions can also develop on their own, developing lifelike appearances without any biological process. Critics of the Francevillian hypothesis point to a well-known phenomenon of pyrite “suns” or “flowers,” superficially fossil-like accumulations of minerals that occasionally turn up in sediments rich in actual fossils. Shuhai Xiao, a paleontologist at Virginia Tech specializing in the Precambrian era, notes that the Francevillian material resembles similar-looking inorganic structures from Michigan that date to 1.1 billion years ago.If ancient complex life can emerge so quickly when conditions are right, who knows where else signs of another blossoming might turn up next?Even scientists who are more amenable to the idea that El Albani’s specimens are fossils tend to conclude that the pyritized specimens are probably just the remains of bacterial mats, not complex life-forms. An independent radiation of colonial eukaryotes at such an age? That’s a hard sell. “I have no problem with there being oxygen oases and there being certain groups that proliferated during those periods,” Riedman says. But the idea that they would have proliferated to that size—a jump in scale that another researcher equated to that between a human and an aircraft carrier—without any similar fossils turning up elsewhere gives her pause. “It just seems a little bit of a stretch.”Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence, however. In the case of the Proterozoic fossil record, the lack of other candidate fossils of complex life as old as those from the Francevillian may reflect a lack of effort in searching for them. That is, the apparent quiet of the deep past may be an illusion—less the “boring billion” than, as Porter puts it, the “barely sampled billion.”The dullness of vast chunks of the Proterozoic has been a self-fulfilling prophecy, Riedman says. After all, who wants to devote time and scarce funding to a period when nothing much is supposed to have happened? “That name, man,” Riedman says of the boring billion. “We’ve got to kill it. Kill it with fire.”Recent findings may help reform the Proterozoic’s cursed reputation—and cast the Francevillian rocks in a more plausible light. Just last year Lanyun Miao of the Nanjing Institute of Geology and Paleontology at the Chinese Academy of Sciences and her colleagues announced that they had discovered the oldest unequivocal multicellular eukaryotes in 1.6-billion-year-old rocks from northern China. The fossils preserve small, threadlike organisms. They’re a far cry from the much larger, more elaborate forms associated with complex multicellularity. But they show that these simpler kinds of multicellular life existed some 500 million years earlier than previously hypothesized.There’s good reason to think the roots of the eukaryote family tree could run considerably deeper than that. Analyses of genome sequences and fossils have hinted that the earliest common ancestor of all living eukaryotes may have appeared as long as 1.9 billion years ago.Critics argue that the forms evident in the Francevillian rocks are merely mineral concretions, not fossils of complex eukaryotic organisms.Abderrazak El Albani/University of PoitiersAnd complex multicellularity itself may develop surprisingly fast. In a fascinating experiment published a few years ago, a team at the Georgia Institute of Technology was able to get single-celled eukaryotes—in this case, yeasts—to chain together in multicellular forms visible to the naked eye in just two years. These findings, along with the growing fossil record, suggest to some researchers that multicellular eukaryotes have a deeper history than is generally recognized.But recognizing early life in the rock is notoriously tricky. Brooke Johnson, a paleontologist at the University of Liège in Belgium, has visited Ediacaran outcrops in the U.K. with his colleagues and sometimes struggled to spot the specific fossils he knows are there.Assessing unfamiliar structures is even more fraught. Researchers constantly second-guess themselves for fear of overinterpreting any given shape or shadow in the stone. The specter of crankhood—of being the kind of researcher who drives their work off a cliff by refusing to be proved wrong—hangs over everybody. “It’s very easy to get yourself tricked into thinking that you can see something that isn’t there, because you’re used to seeing a particular pattern,” Johnson says.One spring morning in 2023, while working through hundreds of samples of rock more than one billion years old from drill cores from Australia, Johnson knocked over one of the pieces. The rock rolled into a strip of sunlight cutting through the blinds. Johnson abruptly noticed structures picked out by the low-angle light like tiny, quilted chains across the surface of the stone. A careful reexamination of many of the drill cores—rocks many previous geologists had handled without comment—showed the structures were common across the samples.Johnson speaks cautiously about the structures and has yet to publish his findings on them formally. But he thinks they might be some type of colony-living eukaryote of a size significantly larger than the microscopic examples known from elsewhere in the early fossil record.The fact that Johnson noticed the structures in the drill core samples only by chance has shaken his initial skepticism of El Albani’s work. “Something like the Francevillian stuff, people might have found it already in other rocks and just not seen it,” he says. “It just might be because they haven’t looked at it in the right way.”The sheer vanity of forms is why El Albani is surprised that people could look at them and assume they aren’t fossils.Dealing with material like the Francevillian requires trying to understand a time when Earth looked virtually nothing like the world we know now, Porter says. Much of the history of multicellular life occurred across an abyss of time on what was effectively an alien planet, with environmental conditions that were remarkably different from those of the past 600 million years. These conditions affected life in ways that are still only dimly understood. And the further back in time one goes, the more likely it is that any fossils will be difficult to recognize, to say nothing of categorize.The temptation for the field to dismiss “fossil-ish” forms as mineral concretions or the product of some other nonbiological process rather than a biogenic one therefore exerts a nearly gravitational pull. “I would imagine they’re probably frustrated [and thinking], ‘Why isn’t everybody already excited about this and coming along with us?’” Riedman says of El Albani and his colleagues. “And we’re just like, ‘We’re stuck on step one, man. We haven’t gotten past the biogenic part.’”“I don’t know what we need to show to prove, to convince,” El Albani says, his expression hangdog. He’s sitting in his office below a poster of the cover of a June 2024 issue of Science in which he and his team published their discovery of a remarkable trilobite fossil. “There’s no trouble with trilobites,” he remarks wistfully. El Albani is not a bomb thrower by nature and is not in a rush to name names. But a visible exasperation creeps in when he discusses the Gabonese specimens, along with a tendency to simultaneously pick at and try to dismiss the wound.At the end of the day, it is a question not really of belief but of arguments, El Albani says. If his critics believe the Gabonese specimens are concretions, they need to try to prove that rather than simply asserting it. If they disagree that the rocks contain fossils of eukaryotes, nothing is stopping them from subjecting the specimens to their own analyses. So far he feels that nobody has published any research that takes their conclusions apart point by point and reckons with all the strands of evidence they’ve marshaled. “If I give my opinion that your iPhone is Samsung,” he says, pulling a phone across the desk, “I should explain why!”Porter, the U.C.S.B. paleontologist, agrees. She’s not convinced by the team’s arguments for what the Francevillian samples represent—an independent lineage of colonial multicellular organisms, swiftly flowering, swiftly snuffed out. But the idea that they’re all just mineral concretions has never satisfied her. If they’re concretions, that’s something researchers need to affirmatively show, she says. Doing so, after all, would add to the field’s knowledge about how pseudofossils form in a way that simply writing them off does not. “We don’t want to discourage people from publishing these weird structures that are difficult to understand,” Porter says.“It’s fine if they’re wrong,” Porter says of El Albani and his colleagues. Everyone is offering competing hypotheses, which are always subject to new evidence from the fossil record. In the end, “we’ll probably all be somewhat wrong about our interpretation, actually.”Seventeen years after El Albani first stopped to examine a glinting blob in the Gabonese shale, his lab shows no signs of slowing down. There are always more specimens to publish, avenues of research to pursue, dissertations to finish. Members of the group are working on closer comparisons between the different environments preserved in the Francevillian quarry and the Cambrian deposits, between the chemistry of the Gabonese specimens and fossils from the Ediacaran and the Burgess Shale.They’re also digging further into the question of how, precisely, chemistry can definitively distinguish between biological and nonbiological origins for a given specimen. Findings from research like theirs could eventually be used to evaluate rock samples from other planets. In 2020 a team of researchers reported that the NASA Mars Science Laboratory rover Curiosity had photographed millimeter-size, sticklike structures in an ancient lake bed that resembled fossils left by miniature tunnelers on Earth. To date, it’s been impossible to disprove nonbiological explanations for their presence. But if a lab could develop a reliable conceptual model for chemically distinguishing between signs of life and nonlife, “you could apply this on Mars or another planet based on the sediment,” El Albani says.Every year El Albani and his team make the trip to Gabon to work the scrape of black stone that reoriented his life. There they comb the flaking shales, prying apart slabs, alert to the glimmer of pyrite or the soft, subtle impression of a circular form stamped in the petrified silt. Sometimes El Albani live-streams the expeditions to French schoolchildren, explaining to them how the cellular revolution that gave rise to them lies far back in the mists of prehistory. Sometimes he bends down to examine a glittering form in the rock. It’s probably something. The question, as always, is what.

The pangolin: An armored, insect-controlling mammal

Covered in armor and curled in mystery, the pangolin is an endangered species in Asia and Africa. Learn more about them here. The post The pangolin: An armored, insect-controlling mammal first appeared on EarthSky.

Watch this video to learn more about the amazing pangolin. Image via A. J. T. Johnsingh/ WWF-India/ NCF/ Wikipedia (CC BY-SA 4.0). Deep within the tropical forests of Asia and Africa lives a creature that seems to have stepped out of an ancient legend. With its body covered in scales, surprisingly long tongue and curious way of walking, the pangolin is one of the most unique animals on the planet. Yet despite its striking appearance, very few have seen one in the wild. And even fewer understand its vital role in maintaining the ecological balance of its habitat. Unfortunately, the pangolin faces a serious threat. Poaching and illegal trafficking have made it the most trafficked mammal in the world. How can such an unknown animal be on the brink of extinction? To protect it, we must first get to know it. Discover why the pangolin is a truly one-of-a-kind creature. The pangolin has an almost impenetrable armor The pangolin is easily recognized by its body covered in tough scales made of keratin, the same substance found in human fingernails and rhinoceroses’ horns. These scales form a natural armor that serves as its main defense mechanism. When threatened, the pangolin curls up into a nearly impenetrable ball, protecting its most vulnerable parts. There are eight recognized species of pangolin, four in Asia and four in Africa. Although they vary in size and color, they share certain physical characteristics. They have elongated bodies, short legs with strong claws, and some species have prehensile tails. They lack teeth, which may seem like a disadvantage, but they are perfectly adapted to their insect-based diet. To stay safe, pangolins curl up into a ball, covering themselves with their hard, protective scales. Image via U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Headquarters/ Wikipedia (CC BY 2.0). How pangolins get around This animal has a curious way of walking. Although it’s a quadruped (with four legs), it often walks mainly on its hind legs, using its front legs only partially. This is because its front legs have very long, sharp claws. They use them to tear open termite mounds and anthills. To avoid wearing down or damaging these claws while moving, many pangolins walk with their wrists bent or even in a semi-upright position, relying more on their back legs. There are also arboreal (tree-dwelling) species of pangolins. These pangolins use their long, curved claws to climb tree bark. They also have prehensile tails that help them grip branches and maintain balance. Their bodies are muscular and flexible, allowing them to move easily among branches. Pangolins have strong, curved claws on their front legs, which they use for tearing open ant and termite nests. Their front legs are shorter and more muscular for digging, while their longer hind legs support walking, often with the front claws tucked under to protect them. Image via pma/ iNaturalist (CC BY 4.0). Pangolin vs. armadillo: How similar are they? At first glance, many people confuse pangolins with armadillos due to their armor-like bodies. However, these similarities are a perfect example of convergent evolution. This is when different species develop similar traits due to similar ecological needs, even though they are not closely related. Armadillos are native to the Americas, while pangolins live in Asia and Africa. Genetically and evolutionarily, they are quite distant: the armadillo belongs to the order Cingulata, along with sloths and anteaters, while the pangolin is the only member of its order (Pholidota), making it even more unique. Another major difference is their body covering. Pangolin scales are made of keratin, while the armadillo’s shell is bony and more rigid. Additionally, armadillos are strong swimmers and expert diggers, whereas pangolins are agile climbers, although some species also dig burrows. So, despite their outward similarity, they differ greatly in behavior, habitat and evolution. Many species of pangolins are excellent climbers. They use their strong claws and prehensile tails to grip branches and navigate trees with ease, especially in forested environments. What makes the pangolin special? Unlike other mammals, the pangolin has a slow metabolism and nocturnal habits, making it even harder to spot. It is a peaceful, solitary and very shy animal that prefers the quiet of forests or savannas to live its life undisturbed. The pangolin is a specialized insectivore, feeding almost exclusively on ants and termites. Its tongue can be longer than its own body! It uses its tongue to explore underground tunnels and consume insects at high speed. Plus, it produces sticky saliva to catch its prey effectively. Pangolins also play an important ecological role in their environment. They can consume up to 70 million insects per year, helping to control pests and maintain ecosystem balance. It’s a natural cleaner, essential for environmental health. Pangolins eat large numbers of ants and termites, helping to keep the environment balanced and naturally controlling pest populations. What are baby pangolins like? Despite their scaly appearance, pangolins are mammals, and their young are born alive after a gestation period of four to five months, depending on the species. Usually, the mother gives birth to a single baby, though in rare cases there may be two. At birth, the young weigh between 0.18 and 0.99 pounds (80 to 450 grams) and are already covered in scales, although they are soft and pinkish at first. Over the following days, the scales harden, forming the protective armor that defines the species. Pangolin babies are born with their eyes open and have a remarkable ability to cling to their mother from the start. During the first weeks of life, the baby stays very close to the mother. When the mother moves, the baby clings tightly to her tail, and when resting, she curls up around the baby to shield it with her body and scales. This maternal behavior is essential for the baby’s survival, as it relies completely on its mother for nourishment and protection. In the early months, it feeds exclusively on her milk, although later it begins to eat ants and termites. Sadly, both baby and adult pangolins face serious threats. Illegal trafficking – driven by the demand for their scales and meat in Asian and African markets – has put all pangolin species at risk of extinction. This is especially critical because pangolins reproduce very slowly, making population recovery extremely difficult. Mother pangolins protect their babies by curling around them, forming a protective ball with their tough, scaly bodies. The most trafficked mammal in the world: the tragedy of illegal trade Despite their shy and peaceful nature, pangolins have drawn the wrong kind of attention: they are the most trafficked mammal in the world. It is estimated that millions have been captured over recent decades, particularly in Asia, due largely to unfounded myths about their supposed medicinal properties. In some Asian cultures – especially in China and Vietnam – there is a false belief that their scales can cure diseases such as asthma, arthritis or even cancer, despite a total lack of scientific evidence. Additionally, their meat is considered a rare delicacy and a status symbol. These myths have led to indiscriminate hunting of the pangolin. This trafficking has pushed all eight pangolin species to the brink of extinction. Some, such as the Chinese and Sunda pangolins, are already critically endangered. Habitat loss, uncontrolled hunting and a lack of public awareness about their ecological importance are worsening the crisis. Sadly, pangolins are the most heavily trafficked mammals in the world, suffering from illegal trade and poaching for their scales and meat. Image via Shukran888/ Wikipedia (CC BY-SA 4.0). What’s being done to protect them? In 2016, the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES) completely banned international trade of pangolins. Additionally, conservation organizations and governments are promoting protection programs, environmental education and rehabilitation of rescued animals. Still, pangolins need more than laws; they need respect, awareness and action. Only through collaboration between communities, governments and global citizens can we ensure that this enigmatic forest guardian does not disappear forever. And you? Had you heard of the pangolin before reading this? Perhaps now you’ll see it with different eyes, not as a rarity, but as a symbol of the biodiversity we are either about to lose … or save. These animals are irresistibly cute and walk like tiny T. rexes, balancing on their hind legs with their front claws held up like little arms! Bottom line: Covered in armor and curled in mystery, the pangolin is an endangered species in Asia and Africa. Learn more about them here. Read more: Anteaters are vacuum-like animals: Lifeform of the week Sloths are our calm and smiley lifeform of the week Spiky porcupines are our lifeform of the weekThe post The pangolin: An armored, insect-controlling mammal first appeared on EarthSky.

Doctors Sound The Alarm As RFK Jr.’s Baseless Circumcision-Autism Claim Fuels Misinformation

In yet another shocking statement, Kennedy doubled down on the not-true claim that Tylenol use, in this case after circumcision, is linked to autism.

This week’s Trump administration Cabinet meeting featured everything out of a medical professional’s nightmare. Confusion about what a placenta is by the man in charge of health in this country, more false claims about Tylenol’s link to autism and new untrue claims about circumcision, Tylenol and autism risk.Health and Human Services Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. made unfounded claims about the “link” between “early circumcision” and Tylenol use in babies and autism.In the Cabinet meeting, Kennedy said, “There’s two studies that show children who are circumcised early have double the rate of autism,” referring to the surgical procedure in baby boys in which the foreskin of the penis is removed. “It’s highly likely because they’re given Tylenol,” Kennedy continued, repeating the debunked claim that Tylenol use is linked to autism.When asked for comment, the Department of Health and Human Services pointed to Kennedy’s recent post on X, which said, “as usual, the mainstream media attacks me for something I didn’t say in order to distract from the truth of what I did say ... An August 2025 Preprints.org review by Patel et al. directly validates my point that the observed autism correlation in circumcised boys is best explained by acetaminophen exposure, not circumcision itself.”This is not the first time Kennedy has suggested Tylenol causes autism; just a few weeks ago, he said Tylenol use in pregnancy is linked to higher rates of autism (this is not true) and told pregnant people not to take it.“His continued obsession with autism is peculiar,” Dr. Mona Amin, a board-certified pediatrician in Florida and face behind the medical social media account @pedsdoctalk, told HuffPost via email.“Instead of chasing procedures and headlines, he should focus on advancing real research like genome and exome testing to better understand genetic and neurodevelopmental factors that play a much bigger role,” Amin said.Research shows that most autism cases are genetic, not caused by things like Tylenol or circumcision. Kennedy’s comments about circumcision and autism risk only create more confusion for new parents while also peddling ableist ideas. It’s flat-out dangerous and flat-out wrong. HuffPost spoke to pediatricians about Kennedy’s dangerous circumcision and Tylenol claims. Here’s what they said.“There is no solid data” behind his claims.“I’m highly concerned, like with most of his statements,” said Amin.“We can’t make bombastic claims when they’re not supported by credible evidence. There’s no solid data behind what he’s saying,” Amin added.Dr. Lauren Hughes, a board-certified pediatrician, owner of Bloom Pediatrics in Kansas and a medical communicator on social media, told HuffPost via email that she was first surprised that Kennedy had made this statement after so recently blaming Tylenol during pregnancy as a cause of autism. “My second thought was ‘He’s lying again,’ because there is no credible study saying there is double the risk of autism,” said Hughes.Kennedy’s post on X cites 2025 research that is “pre-print, not peer-reviewed,” said Amin. “The authors are real researchers, but the findings haven’t gone through independent scientific review yet,” Amin added.“Most evidence cited is observational or animal-based, which can’t establish cause and effect,” Amin said.This is important because studies need to account for things like environment and family genetics, added Amin. This research does not do that.In regard to a Danish study from 2015 that Kennedy refers to later on in his social media post, “this study never mentioned the use of Tylenol ... at all. Instead, they looked at pain related to circumcision in infancy causing autism,” Hughes said.“That study showed a weak association in certain subgroups, but it was based on tiny numbers and didn’t even track Tylenol use,” Amin explained. “Experts have since said the findings were more about statistical noise than cause and effect.” The 2015 study also did not control for “critical confounders” like genetics, family history or prenatal history, Hughes said. “These are all known risk factors for developing autism and should be adjusted for,” Hughes added.“Before accepting this as truth,” Amin said of Kennedy’s claims, “we need well-designed, peer-reviewed studies that control for confounding factors, use accurate exposure data and replicate findings across diverse populations. Until then, [the 2025] paper should be seen as hypothesis-generating, not practice-changing.”“These kinds of claims grab attention but not truth. And when public figures keep reaching for random connections, it spreads fear, not facts,” Amin added.Babies aren’t even always given Tylenol during or after circumcision.According to Amin, Kennedy’s claim that babies are given Tylenol for pain relief during circumcision “just doesn’t line up with reality.”“In most hospitals, newborns are soothed with oral sucrose [sugar water] or other comfort measures during the procedure, not Tylenol,” Amin added.For instance, according to their websites, both Texas Children’s Hospital and the University of Kansas Health System give babies a local anesthetic and a pacifier dipped in sugar water.While some hospitals may give or prescribe babies Tylenol post-procedure, it is not an across-the-board rule.“This is very site-dependent — some [babies] get acetaminophen, some get sugar water or breast milk or directly breastfeed,” Dr. Elizabeth Meade, a pediatrician in Seattle and spokesperson for the American Academy of Pediatrics, told HuffPost via email.“And, if parents give Tylenol afterward, it’s usually a single dose. We can’t blame a one-time or two-time medication for a lifelong neurodevelopmental difference like autism,” Amin said.Bloomberg via Getty ImagesKennedy claimed children who go through "early circumcision" and are given Tylenol to soothe pain are at higher risk of developing autism, but Dr. Mona Amin said "there’s no proof that circumcision or Tylenol causes autism."Circumcision is a generally safe procedure that is not linked to autism.While Kennedy has since stressed that he is linking circumcision and Tylenol use to autism, and not circumcision alone, these kinds of statements only confuse caregivers who want to make the best decision for their babies.“Circumcision is a safe, commonly performed procedure, but as with any medical procedure, there are risks associated,” said Hughes.Risks include bleeding, infection, and too much or too little skin removal, according to Amin.Kennedy specifically referred to “early circumcision,” which is not a phrase Hughes uses — “I do not use the term ‘early circumcision’ and instead only call it circumcision.” Multiple sources, including the Cleveland Clinic, Johns Hopkins Medicine and Texas Children’s Hospital, say circumcision is most commonly done within the first days or weeks of a baby’s life. “Early circumcision” is a bizarre way to categorize something that is commonly recommended early in a baby’s life. “It’s an elective procedure, not a medical requirement. With proper hygiene, being uncircumcised is completely healthy, too,” Amin added.Some cultures and groups of people find circumcision to be controversial, “and that’s understandable,” said Amin.“Parents should be able to make this decision based on their values and medical guidance without judgment. It’s a personal choice, not a moral or medical obligation,” she noted.It’s a parent’s choice whether or not to have their baby circumcised, but a fear of autism should not be a reason not to, said Hughes.Because, again, there is no proof that circumcision and Tylenol use are linked to a higher chance of developing autism.There is no proof that Tylenol causes autism.This is not the first time Kennedy has linked Tylenol use to autism, but there is no solid proof of a connection, experts told HuffPost again and again.“An extremely well done study was published in April of 2024 reviewing acetaminophen use in pregnancy,” said Hughes. (Acetaminophen is the active ingredient in Tylenol.)Researchers evaluated roughly 2.5 million children and “after adjusting for sibling diagnosis, they found there was no associated link between acetaminophen use during pregnancy and neurodevelopmental disorders,” Hughes added.“The use of acetaminophen in childhood has not been robustly studied, but no data exists showing a causal link,” she said.“As a parent, I understand how confusing all this can feel. And as a clinician who walks families through these decisions every day, it’s frustrating to see misinformation replace genuine curiosity.”- Dr. Mona Amin, board-certified pediatrician in FloridaThe American Academy of Pediatrics says acetaminophen is safe for children when used as directed and discussed with a child’s pediatrician. “Acetaminophen remains the safest option for pain and fever during pregnancy and infancy when used as directed,” Amin added.Tylenol is commonly used to help control fevers in children and pregnant women, and having an untreated fever is dangerous. “Here’s what parents need to understand: The developing brain is affected far more by untreated high fevers or infections than by a single, properly dosed pain reliever,” Amin said. “The benefit of using Tylenol when truly needed outweighs any unproven theoretical risk,” noted Amin.Autism is complex, but research is ongoing.“Autism is complex. It’s not caused by one medication, one vaccine, or one parenting decision,” said Amin.For decades, scientists have been researching the cause of autism, Hughes added.“It is very, very important to state that no one wants to find the causes for autism more than pediatric health care providers,” Meade noted. “I say ‘causes’ very intentionally, because we know this is not a one-cause diagnosis, it is very multifactorial and complex.”“We will keep looking, and keep investigating, including looking into acetaminophen use — but the reality is that many large and well-done studies have shown absolutely no causal link at this point,” Meade said.“Research shows genetics play the biggest role — sometimes inherited from parents, sometimes through spontaneous gene changes that affect how the brain forms and communicates,” Amin said.“So, please, if you have a child with autism, do not think you did anything wrong. And know that the scientific community has not, nor will ever, forget about you,” Hughes said.Studies looking into environmental risk factors are ongoing, “but ‘environmental’ doesn’t mean things like Tylenol or vaccines. It refers to broad prenatal or early life influences like severe maternal infection during pregnancy, significant prematurity, or exposure to high levels of air pollution, lead, or pesticides,” Amin said.But, these environmental factors do not flat-out cause autism, and instead increase autism risk in combination with genetic predisposition, Amin said.YourSupportMakes The StoryYour SupportFuelsOur MissionYour SupportFuelsOur MissionJoin Those Who Make It PossibleHuffPost stands apart because we report for the people, not the powerful. Our journalism is fearless, inclusive, and unfiltered. Join the membership program and help strengthen news that puts people first.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.“As a parent, I understand how confusing all this can feel. And as a clinician who walks families through these decisions every day, it’s frustrating to see misinformation replace genuine curiosity,” Amin said.“We should be investing our energy into research, education and support for autistic individuals, not fighting baseless claims,” she added.

Study: Commercial Lion Farming in South Africa Could Be Harming, Not Helping, Wild Lions

As we’ve seen with tigers and other threatened species, captive lion breeding may stimulate consumer demand and put additional pressure on wild populations across African home ranges. The post Study: Commercial Lion Farming in South Africa Could Be Harming, Not Helping, Wild Lions appeared first on The Revelator.

I recently co-authored a new peer-reviewed study that has delivered another blow to South Africa’s controversial commercial captive lion industry, finding no solid evidence that breeding lions in captivity benefits wild populations and warning that it may be doing the opposite. Our study, a collaboration with researchers from Blood Lions and World Animal Protection, paints a troubling picture of an industry that has exploded over the past three decades to around 350 facilities holding nearly 8,000 lions — alongside thousands of other big cats — for exhibition and breeding, tourism experiences, “canned” or captive trophy hunting, and the trade in bones and body parts. We examined 126 scientific papers and 37 organizational reports published between 2008 and 2023, flagging three major concerns: Currently there is no proof that the commercial industry aids conservation. Captive breeding may increase demand for lion parts. Links between legal and illegal trade could be strengthened. Bottle feeding and cub petting are popular revenue streams for captive predator facilities. Cubs are separated from their mothers at a young age, forcing the females back into estrus while visitors pay to interact with the cubs. © Blood Lions, used with permission. From cub-petting selfies to walking with lions, “canned” hunts, and the (now illegal) export of lion skeletons, the commercial predator industry is big business. The industry claims that commercial lion farming relieves pressure on wild lions; our study shows that it could actually fuel the demand for lion products and open the door to increased wildlife trafficking. Can Commercial Breeding Meet Consumer Demand? While proponents of commercial wildlife utilization assert that wildlife farming offers an effective means to meet the demand for wildlife commodities and relieve pressure on wild populations, our analysis of previous work by researchers and conservationists shows that this approach may be counterproductive. Farming wildlife may, in fact, put increased pressure on wild populations by promoting demand for wildlife products. This increases the risk of wildlife poaching and laundering through existing legal channels. It has also been noted that captive wildlife stock is sometimes renewed with animals from the wild to bring in fresh genes and prevent inbreeding or to breed for specific traits, such as dark manes. Countering arguments that farming wild animals is a logical means to protect wild populations, conservationists and researchers have highlighted that such mistaken assumptions may endanger wild populations. Other species have already demonstrated that commercial farming of wild species — such as tigers for bones and other body parts, bears for bile, and Southeast Asian porcupines for meat consumption — have all put increased pressure on wild populations. Consumer demand studies that have highlighted a preference for products sourced from wild-caught animals based on perceptions of medicinal strength or meat quality. Overall these studies highlight the faulty logic inherent in justifying the commercial breeding of wild animals as a supply-side approach. A lion skeleton prepared for export to be used in Traditional Chinese Medicine and trinkets. © Blood Lions, used with permission. There’s still a lot we don’t know. In our paper we highlighted the urgent need for scientific, peer-reviewed research to better understand consumer demand, economic comparisons between wild and farmed products, the genetics of captive lions, and the scale of illicit trade to get a more complete picture of the impact of commercial lion farming on wild lions. South African Wild Lion Populations Remain Stable, But What About Other Range States? In 2018 an assessment for African lions stated that the export of captive-bred lion trophies, live captive-bred lions for zoological or breeding purposes, and/or the trade of lion skeletons from the captive population would not harm South Africa’s wild lion population. The commercial captive lion industry has repeatedly failed to account for severe welfare issues, including malnourishment, obesity, overbreeding, inbreeding, poor keeping conditions, and health concerns. © Blood Lions, used with permission. But while wild lion populations in South Africa remain stable, our new research clearly highlights the risks associated with a commercial captive lion industry and the already vulnerable wild lion populations and other big cat species across other range states. Dr. Louise de Waal, director of Blood Lions and one of the paper’s authors, says South Africa’s stable wild lion population could change if the captive industry keeps growing: “We need to err on the side of caution globally, but in particular in African lion range states, to stop facilitating further emergence of commercial captive predator breeding and trade. This is particularly relevant when considering the increased wildlife trafficking opportunities between the African continent and Southeast Asia through, for example, the expansion of the Belt and Road Initiative, a global infrastructure development strategy by the Chinese government.” Welfare Concerns Continue The industry also has a long record of animal welfare violations. Some of the most recent cases include a successful conviction for animal cruelty after starved lions were discovered at a farm in May 2023. In another National Council of Societies for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (NSPCA) welfare case in 2025, horrific animal cruelty and neglect were uncovered at a notorious predator facility, where at least 80 tigers were kept for commercial purposes, one of whom had resorted to self-mutilation to relieve stress and pain from untreated injuries. Commercial captive-keeping conditions fail to provide adequate living conditions for sentient apex predators, including the ability to hunt and roam freely. © Blood Lions, used with permission. These aren’t isolated incidents. Douglas Wolhuter, national chief inspector and manager of the NSPCA Wildlife Protection Unit, reported that they had conducted 176 inspections of captive lion facilities across South Africa from 2022 to 2024. Wolhuter outlined that in most cases, captive predators were denied even the bare basics like access to clean drinking water, proper food, shelter, environmental enrichment, hygienic living conditions, and appropriate veterinary care, including treatment of parasitic infestations. Many of the captive predator- and lion-breeding facilities required repeat visits due to unaddressed noncompliances. Their inspections resulted in 64 warnings, 10 formal Animal Welfare Notices, and 21 warrants granted in 2022 alone. That year, as a result, 23 severely compromised lions had to be euthanized. Our research, combined with these on-the-ground realities, provides another catalyst for South Africa’s Minister of Forestry, Fisheries, and the Environment, Dr. Dion George, to take urgent action by implementing a moratorium on breeding and a time-bound phaseout plan. It also signals the serious need for caution: Lion farming in South Africa isn’t saving wild lions. It could even be accelerating their decline, particularly in already vulnerable lion range states across other African countries. Previously in The Revelator: In South Africa, Tigers and Other Captive Predators Are Still Exploited for Profit. Legislation Offers Pitiful Protection The post Study: Commercial Lion Farming in South Africa Could Be Harming, Not Helping, Wild Lions appeared first on The Revelator.

Saving Zimbabwe’s Vultures

From poisonings to collisions with power lines, these birds face many threats. But as they decline, so does their ability to control the spread of deadly diseases. The post Saving Zimbabwe’s Vultures appeared first on The Revelator.

A narrow road meanders through Zimbabwe’s Vumba Mountains, where sweet songs of various bird species fill the air on a sunny afternoon. The distant chatter of monkeys adds to this wildlife melody. But one sound, once common, no longer echoes over the mountains: the calls of soaring vultures. These majestic birds have disappeared from this part of Zimbabwe. Big game poachers despise vultures for circling over the carcasses of dead animals — a natural process that inadvertently “snitches” poachers’ illicit activities to game park rangers. Poachers have retaliated by lacing the bodies of their prey with deadly poison, which vultures consume, dramatically increasing the killers’ body counts. That’s not the only threat these birds face. Habitat loss is a big issue. In some cases vultures are killed for their parts, which are used in traditional “medicine” in some cultures of Zimbabwe. And to a lesser extent, power lines have also killed vultures, who die from electrocution or after collisions with the structures. The threats have all but wiped out the vultures, in this area known for its birds. “Birding in the Vumba as well as the Burma Valley area [in Zimbabwe] is considered a shining jewel in the Eastern Highlands, and tourists travel far and wide for the very special birds found here. However, vultures are no longer a presence,” says Sue Fenwick, a trustee of the Friends of the Vumba, an organization working to protect wildlife in the area. The group’s mission faces many challenges. In this part of Zimbabwe, illegal farming activities have decimated vast tracts of wildlife habitats. Benhildah Antonio, who manages the Preventing Extinctions Program at Birdlife Zimbabwe, says the twin threats of farming and poisons intersect. In addition to poachers’ poisons, Antonio says vultures are often poisoned unintentionally. This is prevalent in farming communities surrounding national parks, where lions prey on livestock. “Farmers put poison on carcasses to target lions or any other predators but unintentionally end up poisoning vultures,” Antonio says. “The vultures will die in large numbers because of their feeding habits. One carcass can have 50 or more vultures feeding on it.” A Loss That Echoes Vultures’ disappearance from Zimbabwe and other African countries comes with an environmental cost. “We call them the ‘clean-up crew,’” says Antonio. “When the vultures feed on dead carcasses, they help us with cleaning the environment; they help us with sanitation. That’s the main ecosystem service we get from vultures. They do this free service. They also reduce the spread of … rabies, anthrax, tuberculosis, and other diseases.” When vultures eat a carcass, they can digest pathogens without getting sick. At the same time, vultures reduce the available food sources for feral dogs and other scavengers, thereby suppressing diseases like rabies. Many Species, Similar Threats According to Birdlife Zimbabwe, Africa is home to 11 vulture species, six of which can be found in Zimbabwe. All but one of the species in Zimbabwe are threatened or endangered. The International Union of Conservation of Nature Red List, which assesses the conservation status of species around the world, classifies the white-backed vulture, white-headed vulture, and hooded vulture as critically endangered. The lappet-faced vulture and cape vulture are categorized as endangered and “vulnerable to extinction” respectively, while the palm-nut vulture is listed as “least concern” (although it was last assessed a decade ago). Regardless of their conservation status, all vultures in Zimbabwe have special protection under the Zimbabwe Parks and Wildlife Act, making it illegal to kill a vulture, even in cases of accidental harm.   View this post on Instagram   A post shared by Jeannee Sacken (@authorjeanneesacken) The six species have specific habitat niches, but many of their ranges overlap in Zimbabwe. The lappet-faced vulture breeds in Lowveld semi-arid areas like Gonarezhou National Park, while the white-headed vulture breeds in Hwange National Park and Gonarezhou. Cape vultures rely on cliffs for breeding and roosting, particularly in the central parts of the country. The hooded vulture breeds in low-lying areas of Tsholotsho and Gokwe. Palm-nut vultures, though considered rare in Zimbabwe, are seen mostly in the country’s Eastern Highlands. But no matter where they’re found, they face the same dangers — and vultures’ declines aren’t unique to Zimbabwe. A Worldwide Threat José Tavares, director of the Vulture Conservation Foundation, says the major threats to vultures in Africa and globally come from the ingestion of poison baits. “These [poison baits] are mostly put to deal with human-wildlife conflict, although in Southern Africa sentinel poisoning has also been significant,” Tavares says, referring to the poisoning to prevent circling vultures from giving away poachers’ locations. “The illegal poisoning of wildlife is a non-discriminatory measure that has a profound impact.” Zimbabwe presents a powerful illustration of the problem. According to the Zimbabwe Parks and Wildlife Management Authority (Zimparks) 2019-2022 Action Plan, the country experienced increased vulture poisoning incidents that are causing vulture populations to decline and harming other species. Mass poisoning events cited in the report include 191 vultures in Gonarezhou National Park in 2012, 40 at a farm in Fort Rixon in 2014, 22 in Sinamatella in 2015, 43 at Sentinel Ranch in 2016, 94 on the border of Gonarezhou National Park in 2017, 24 at Sengwa Wildlife Research Station in 2017, 28 in Main Camp in 2018, and 21 in Hwange National Park in 2019. There is no recent data from Zimparks covering the post-COVID period. According to former Zimparks director Fulton Mangwanya, a single vulture provides over US$11,000 worth of ecosystem services. “By halting the spread of disease, they are worth much more to society in saved health service costs, not to mention contributing significant revenue to the tourism sector as well,” Mangwanya wrote in the action plan. This poses direct threats to humans. In India, for example, one study reveals that between 2000 and 2005, the loss of vultures caused around 100,000 additional human deaths annually, resulting in more than £53 billion per year in mortality damages, or the economic costs associated with premature deaths. These deaths, experts say, were due to the spread of disease and bacteria that vultures could have otherwise removed from the environment. Has the decline in vultures caused similar problems in Zimbabwe? Kerri Wolter, chief executive officer of VulPro, a South African nonprofit organization devoted to safeguarding Africa’s vulture species, says it’s impossible to link the recent outbreak of anthrax in Gonarezhou National Park to the massive poisoning deaths of 280 vultures in the park in the past few years. The anthrax outbreak last year killed more than 120 animals, including four elephants, 75 buffaloes, and 38 kudus. However, more studies are needed on the possible link between the declining vulture population in Zimbabwe and rising cases of anthrax in the country’s national parks. But Wolter says the future of these birds is dire and the threat of vulture species’ extinctions is a very real possibility. “If we cannot get a grip on poisonings, I fear we will continue to see losses and some species disappearing,” she says. Saving Zimbabwe’s Vultures With an understanding of these threats, local and international groups have mobilized several efforts in Zimbabwe that aim to save the country’s last vultures. Birdlife Zimbabwe, for example, is working with communities to resolve human-wildlife conflict issues so they don’t end up causing vulture deaths as collateral damage. “We have created vulture support groups in [Zimbabwe’s] Gwayi area, where community members do vulture monitoring and educate other community members about vulture conservation,” Antonio says. “We are also educating and building capacity for law-enforcement agents so that they are conscious about vulture conservation and crimes against vultures. We also work with traditional healers because of belief-based use of vultures in traditional medicines.” And Tavares says the Vulture Conservation Foundation is fighting illegal poisoning through engaging with the competent authorities for the proper enforcement of the law and adequate investigation of illegal poisoning incidents to reduce impunity. Wolter says their work impacts the whole Southern Africa region. “We lead by example and have assisted, trained, and worked with Victoria Falls Wildlife Trust and Jabulani Safaris [in Zimbabwe] and continue to do so,” she says. Other efforts, including one funded by tourism, help vultures by giving them what they need most: safe food. The Victoria Falls Safari Collection, operated by the Africa Albida Tourism hospitality group, runs the Vulture Culture Experience at Victoria Falls Safari Lodge, where the birds are provided with food, typically animal carcasses, to support their survival and well-being.   View this post on Instagram   A post shared by Estnat Engsted (@ekewildphotography) “Our … conservation initiative has been highly successful in providing a safe food source for hundreds of vultures every day and reducing the risks of poisoning they face in the wild,” says Anald Musonza, head of sales and marketing at Victoria Falls Safari Collection. Musonza says the program has also become a powerful educational platform, where thousands of visitors learn about the plight of these highly endangered raptors and turn into ambassadors for vulture conservation. “Even when our hotels stood still during COVID, the Vulture Culture Experience never stopped — that’s how seriously we take conservation,” Musonza says. He says they work with VulPro as well as the Victoria Falls Wildlife Trust on this project. “While the activity is free of charge, guests may make donations towards vulture research, and $1 from selected dishes at our MaKuwa-Kuwa Restaurant is donated to vulture conservation programs,” he says. Musonza says their biggest challenges have been in constantly raising awareness of the threats vultures face and the significant role they play in the ecosystem. “The poisoning of these birds is also of great concern, which is why education plays a crucial role in this conservation initiative,” Musonza says. Previously in The Revelator: Newest Flock of Wild California Condors Faces an Old Threat: Lead Poisoning The post Saving Zimbabwe’s Vultures appeared first on The Revelator.

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