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The Wild Story of What Happened to Pablo Escobar’s Hungry, Hungry Hippos

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Thursday, July 11, 2024

Emily Lankiewicz Four decades ago, Pablo Escobar brought to his Medellín hideaway four hippopotamuses, the centerpieces of a menagerie that included llamas, cheetahs, lions, tigers, ostriches and other exotic fauna. After Colombian police shot Escobar dead in December 1993, veterinarians removed the animals—except the hippos, which were deemed too dangerous to approach. The hippos fled to the nearby Magdalena River and multiplied. Today, the descendants of Escobar’s hippos are believed to number nearly 200. Their uncontrolled growth threatens the region’s fragile waterways. Smithsonian contributor Joshua Hammer joins us to recount this strange history and explain why Colombian conservationists have embarked upon an unusual program to sterilize these hippos in the wild via “invasive surgical castration,” a procedure that is, as he has written for Smithsonian magazine, “medically complicated, expensive and sometimes dangerous for hippos as well as for the people performing it.” Then, ecologist Rebecca Lewison tells us how her long-term study of hippo populations in Africa offers hints of how these creatures will continue to alter the Colombian ecosystem—and what authorities can do about it. A transcript is below. To subscribe to “There’s More to That,” and to listen to past episodes on why we’re still counting calories even though that’s been largely discredited as a healthy eating tool, what the orcas tipping over yachts are really doing, and how the shocking crime perpetrated by wealthy teens Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb a century ago helped to turn true crime into a perennial subject of American public fascination, find us on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts. Joshua Hammer: I can’t remember where I first heard about them. I think I must’ve had some awareness of them for the last couple of years. Chris Klimek: Josh Hammer is a journalist and author, and he’s been following a surprising story for Smithsonian magazine, one that goes all the way back to the 1980s. Hammer: That’s when the drug lord Pablo Escobar began importing exotic animals for his hacienda in Antioquia province in northwestern Colombia. Klimek: This was at the height of Pablo Escobar’s wealth and power, and the narco-terrorist wanted to live in a place that fit his larger-than-life image. Hammer: He bought a big patch of property near the Magdalena River, which is the longest river in Colombia, a jungle-y area. He cleared the area and began transforming it into his private playground and began importing these animals, most of them, we believe, from zoos in the U.S. There were kangaroos, there were dolphins for his artificial lakes, elephants. Klimek: But there was one kind of animal that unexpectedly created a wildlife crisis in northern Colombia, one that persists today—a big one. Hammer: The facts are a little murky, but it looks like he imported four hippos, three females and one male, from a zoo or some sort of wildlife refuge, or an animal breeder in either Texas or California. Klimek: You know when you buy two gerbils and then it turns into three or four or five gerbils? Well, the same thing happened with these hippos. And while Escobar eventually had to flee the area, they stuck around. Hammer: After he was killed, fleeing the police in Medellín in 1993, basically the hacienda was abandoned, and the animals fended for themselves. Then the hippos started to expand. They started to move beyond the borders of the hacienda, and here we are 40 years later, and they’re dealing with a population of about, well, rough estimate is about 200 hippos right now—and growing, obviously. Klimek: On its face, this is a pretty ridiculous situation. A drug lord’s feral hippos, swimming in the waters, eating their way through the Colombian jungles, interacting with the local populations, animal and human. But when you start to dig deeper, there’s a lot to be learned here about both the consequences of human behavior and conservation crises across the globe. From Smithsonian magazine and PRX Productions, this is “There’s More to That,” the show where we’re hungry, hungry for stories about invasive hippos. In this episode, one of the most complicated wildlife puzzles in the world and what it means for both animals and humans. I’m Chris Klimek.Klimek: Hi, it’s Chris. I hope you’re enjoying “There’s More to That.” We hope that our episodes are giving you a sense of what the world of Smithsonian magazine is all about, and we’d love to hear from you what you think of this season. More importantly, we want to know what you’d like to hear more of. Your input is key. If you have the time to help us design our future episodes, please take this survey. You can find it at SmithsonianMag.com/podcastsurvey. We’ll also put a link in our show notes. It should take about five minutes. Thanks again and, as always, thanks for listening.Klimek: So since it’s been more than 30 years and not all our listeners may know, who was Pablo Escobar? Hammer: Well, Escobar was born in a working-class neighborhood of Medellín. When he was in his teens, however, he began essentially a life of crime doing things like stealing tombstones from graveyards and sanding off the names and reselling them, and just forging documents, all sorts of stuff. And then in his early 20s, he began running cocaine. I guess at the time, neighboring countries like Peru and Bolivia were producers, and he was bringing the cocaine in, processed and unprocessed, flying it up in a small plane to landing strips in the United States. And later he got involved with a couple of other Colombian dealers and formed what became known as the Medellín Cartel, which pretty much controlled all cocaine trafficking for years between Colombia and the United States. And so he grew extremely wealthy and bought his way into a seat in the Colombian parliament, and was living with total impunity and making billions of dollars until the mid-’80s, when it all caught up with him. Klimek: What was life like in Colombia during Pablo Escobar’s lifetime? Hammer: Very violent. The drug traffickers were carrying out their own terrible acts of violence in the mid-’80s. Escobar was carrying out assassinations. He had death squads killing his enemies, car bombings. In 1989, an unwitting courier carried a bomb onboard an Avianca jet, which blew up mid-flight, killed about 130 people. It was savage. On top of that, you had this escalating civil war going on between FARC, the communist, Marxist guerrilla movement in Colombia, and the Colombian government. And then on top of that, you had these, what they call the autodefensas, which were these right-wing vigilante death squads, which were often in league with drug lords. They were getting a cut of the action from the drug trade, and they were also involved in killing suspected Marxists. So there were three major violent actors all causing chaos during the ’80s and ’90s in Colombia. It was a very, very difficult time. Up to 30,000 people were being killed in a year at the peak of the violence in Colombia. Klimek: Escobar cultivated an image of power amidst the violence and turmoil. Josh says we can only speculate about how the hippos fit into that picture. Hammer: Apparently there were a couple of other drug lords in South America that he was emulating. There’s something about this kind of criminality and these menageries, there’s an association with power and prestige to have wild animals, to be the master of your own menagerie. This menagerie that he built up served another purpose, too, because he opened it up to the public. He allowed local Colombians to come onto his property and do a safari in electric vehicles around the grounds. So this, of course, helped to make him a very popular figure among a lot of Colombians when he was just spreading the money around and sponsoring soccer clubs. And then this was part of the same scheme to establish roots in the community, make him a popular figure. Klimek: Where is he keeping these animals? Hammer: He kept them on a property called Hacienda Nápoles. It’s about three hours east of Medellín. It’s a big area. He built artificial lakes and his mansion, his villa there, and he had 1,500 people working on the grounds, free-roaming menagerie of animals, helicopter pad, dinosaur theme park, just some other weird stuff. There was also a bull ring, et cetera, et cetera. Klimek: How did the hippos end up roaming freely outside of the grounds of the hacienda? Hammer: So there were never any real borders of this hacienda. It was carved out of the wilderness. So within a few days of his being killed, a lot of people stormed the grounds. They ripped everything apart looking for money, looking for weapons. The place was in chaos. The staff fled, and nobody came back to tend the animals. The animals for a while were living on their own. After it fell into disrepair, it was eventually taken over by a private corporation and reborn as a safari park. I understand from talking to an official in the local government who was a young man in those days that there were electric vehicles that would take you around and let you tour the savanna. Elephants would come over to the vehicles and stick their trunk, just like an imitation African safari. Finally, the government decided to do something about it, so this would’ve been about maybe ’98, ’99. They gathered up the animals, and they shipped most of them off to three zoos in Colombia. But nobody wanted to get near the hippos because they were frightened of them, and so the hippos were left to their own devices. By that time, there may have been 10, 12, I’m not sure, but, I mean, the females can produce a baby every year and a half, and they can be incredibly fertile. Klimek: Then an almost Shakespearean power struggle began to play out. Hammer: The oldest male born of these three female hippos wanted to be the alpha male and basically killed his own father and established a new hippo pod, and that’s the dynamic that happens. A male hippo will get in a fight with the alpha male and be exiled from the herd and then have to go off and find his own environment and wander off a few kilometers, get a female or two—boom, a new hippo herd is created. And this is what’s been happening slowly over the decades. Some of these hippos have been spotted like 50 miles outside of the boundaries of the Hacienda Nápoles. So they can really wander far. Klimek: How are the hippos in the region faring now? Hammer: I think they’re thriving. They don’t have any natural predators. They’re not hunted, and they have access to a lot of water and a lot of fruit and a lot of vegetables and a lot of vegetation, all the things that hippos need. So they’re doing very well. Klimek: And why does that present a threat to people and to the environment? Hammer: I think there is this exaggerated threat about just how dangerous hippos are. I mean, you often see media reports of them being the most dangerous animal. I don’t think that’s necessarily true. I think that they can be aggressive. I think generally they’re pretty gentle. It’s sort of like, you leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone. But from what I understand, if you get pretty dense human populations and pretty dense hippo populations competing for the same territory—fishermen on the rivers and people settling the land along the rivers—and so you get a lot of opportunities for hippo-human clashes. Last year in a schoolyard, one hippo just wandered in, and kids were scared, teachers running every which way. And if you’re on a boat, they can come up underneath and drown you. They’re not totally harmless animals. Klimek: The presence of hippos has also changed the Magdalena River itself. Hammer: Another reason that people are concerned is just because they produce an awful lot of excrement. They can really pollute water resources. They’re an invasive species. They don’t really belong there. So the local species that are there, like the capybaras, the tortoises, other animals, it’s rapidly changing the biome and possibly threatening these other animals. Algae, bacteriological contamination, there definitely seems to be something going on with the water in Colombia in these areas. Klimek: How have authorities tried to solve the problem of this exploding hippo population in Colombia? Hammer: The first thing they did was way back in the early 2000s, a professional hunter was hired, and he actually shot and killed a hippo that had wandered about 50 miles or so outside the hacienda and then posed with the corpse of his hippo, and it created a huge uproar in Colombia. I believe this was 2008, maybe 2009. Then there was a series of protests in Bogotá, and all across Colombia people were outraged and distraught. The minister of the environment had to resign, and they basically declared a moratorium on killing hippos. They started to try to dart hippos in the wild and do these castrations. That didn’t really work, because the tranquilizers take a while to have an effect, and it was dangerous to follow these hippos around, and so the hippos would generally disappear. They managed to do this once. They were able to track a hippo and castrate it after the tranquilizer knocked him out. And then they tried chemical castrations, where they would dart it with a chemical. But the problem with that method is that they would have to use a two-step process, and it was almost impossible to track the hippo to deliver the second dart two months later. So that didn’t work. They tried to cordon off the hacienda, but that didn’t work either, because first of all, many of the hippos had already left the hacienda, and second of all, the property was too large. They couldn’t really construct anything strong enough to keep the animals in, so that didn’t work. They tried getting international zoos to take the hippos, and that created a huge protest among environmental groups who didn’t believe that the resources should be spent with this translocation program. And most zoos didn’t want them anyway, so that didn’t work. Finally, last year, they began this aggressive surgical castration campaign using traps and corrals and trying to lure the animals into these corrals, keeping them trapped, and then sterilizing them on the spot, and that has had a certain amount of success. So they’ve done about ten so far. The project began in earnest in October, and from what I understand, they were forced to stop for a couple of months because of a contract renegotiation and budget disputes. But now they apparently have picked it up again. So it’s averaging one and a half a month or something. They say that they need to sterilize at least 40 a year to keep the population from growing. So they’re falling short, and it’s a really difficult procedure. They’re getting better at it, clearly, but it still doesn’t seem to be sufficient to deal with the numbers.Rebecca Lewison: I remember somebody telling me, and I thought, “What? That can’t be right. There’s no way. How would there be hippos in Colombia?” Klimek: Rebecca Lewison is an ecologist at San Diego State University. She’s also co-chair of the Hippo Specialist Group of IUCN, an international conservation organization. She mostly spends her time worrying about hippos in Africa, but at some point in the late ’90s or early 2000s, she started getting inquiries about the Colombian hippos. Lewison: I’ve never been to Colombia, but what it looks like is a paradise for hippos, water everywhere, grass everywhere. I mean, I can see why they are thriving. Klimek: We went to Rebecca for some more in-depth information about hippo biology, conservation, and some ideas for a potential solution in Colombia. But we began the conversation by asking: What’s it like to see a hippo up close in the wild? Lewison: It’s just like, “Oh, my God, they’re so big,” which is kind of dumb, since you know they’re this massive animal. But when you first see them in the water, you just see that the top surface of their heads and their backs, and then when they actually come out, it’s the iceberg, there’s a lot under there. Klimek: What makes it hard to study hippos in the wild? Lewison: The challenge with hippos in the wild is when you go to a place that has hippos, they’re seemingly everywhere, which is not, of course, really true, but you’ll see a lot of them. They all come together and bunch up in rivers or lakes, but they’re really tough to study. And so compared to even other big gray things like elephants and rhinos, we really know comparatively little about them, because they are essentially marine mammals. They’re in the water all day and they only come out at night to feed. So nighttime is a tough time to be doing fieldwork, not super safe, and most of the places where they’re in the water, you can’t get in there with them. It’s a hundred percent not safe either because of hippos or because of crocodiles, and the water is not clear, so we don’t really know what’s happening. Other things that make them really hard to study is they basically don’t have a neck. So most of the ways that we put collars on animals, it goes around their neck, and they don’t have a neck. They use their neck, and so collaring them doesn’t really work. And in another just crazy turn of events, they are very difficult to chemically immobilize or tranquilize. We don’t really understand it, but they tend to not do well with all the drugs that we use for elephants and rhinos. It’s just made it really hard to study them and learn really basic things like who’s related to who. Identifying individuals is really tough, because we don’t really see much of them. Counting hippos is really hard, and you’d say, “Well, why? They’re massive, 4,000, 5,000 pounds.” But they’re in the water, and counting things in the water is really tough. They submerge. They don’t just stay. It’s not like you can say, “OK, everybody out of the water. I have to count you.” We’re increasingly using drones, but even with that, that can cause disturbance, so maybe a hippo will go underwater. Klimek: What’s the biggest threat to hippos in their native habitat now? Lewison: The biggest threat is definitely habitat loss. They require freshwater, and that really puts them at the crosshairs of people who also really rely on freshwater. And that’s probably the most valuable and limited resource on Earth, is freshwater, and it really puts them in direct conflict with people. Right behind that is a threat that is here but is potentially intensifying, which is just the impacts of climate change, because we know that impacts water quality and quantity. But I think it really all of that boils down to they just are running out of places to be. Klimek: Where are global hippo populations now, generally? Lewison: We don’t have great, great counts of them, but we think there’s about 200,000 to 300,000, which is surprisingly few. That’s even less elephants than there are. From a conservation perspective, there’s certainly populations in countries where hippo populations seem to be stable—those are typically in eastern and southern Africa—and definitely countries where hippo populations are declining, which is absolutely in western African countries. And in large part that is actually driven by just large-scale habitat loss. So overall the conservation outlook is not great. They are listed on the IUCN Red List, which is our international way of keeping track of the conservation status of animals, and they are listed as vulnerable because of that. And just increasingly, we just have concerns about their viability going forward. Klimek: The hippo situation in Colombia is completely unprecedented, so Rebecca says she has to look to African hippos for answers about what’s going on. Lewison: Hippos in Africa really exhibit this sort of boom-bust cycle oftentimes, particularly in places where the water and grass resources vary a lot within a year, which is a lot of places in eastern, southern Africa that have a dry season and a wet season. When there’s a drought, hippo populations can crash, a lot of mortality, both of adults and absolutely of juveniles because of either not enough water or not enough resources. What we also see for hippo populations, which is what makes a lot of us optimistic for a future for hippos, is that they respond very well to good conditions. When there’s a lot of rain and a lot of water, we see hippo populations flourish and really grow and expand and increase very quickly, and that’s certainly what they seem to have in Colombia. One thing that I think is interesting in Colombia is I think they’re spending a lot more time out of the water than hippos do in Africa, in part because the climate, it’s humid, it’s much more forgiving for a hippo. They have pretty sensitive skin, which is funny to say because they also are known to have some of the thickest skin, but there’s some sensitivity around them. Without water, they will die, or moisture, but I think they have that. And so maybe that’s another reason that people are really connecting to them is they can see them so much more than you can in the African context. Klimek: Many places, non-native animal populations have been controlled by introducing predator species. Why would that not work here? Lewison: I just don’t know what you’d introduce. The largest predator to the hippo, the most pervasive threat from predation for hippos is people. It is true that in Africa, lions, they will hunt younger hippos, smaller hippos. I don’t think we want to introduce African lions to Colombia. They certainly have their own carnivores, but it’s just not going to happen. There just isn’t anything bigger. Dinosaurs? We’ve all seen that movie, so we know how that goes. We don’t have an option here of going up the food chain. Their skin is that thick. Save with a gun, they’re pretty hard to kill, and I don’t think there’s going to be a strategy to introduce anything that’s big enough to get them. And honestly, predation just doesn’t have a big impact even in African settings. It’s really the environment that controls hippo populations. Klimek: How do you feel about the possibility of culling these hippos? Should that be considered as a potential solution? Lewison: It’s a tough question, again, because of how I think folks in the area have really identified with the hippos, absolutely are concerned about animal welfare, and I obviously take all of that very seriously as well. I just don’t think at this point there’s any really good solutions. The good solution needed to come in 1993, and we’re way beyond that. So now the situation where we are, the fork in the road, I do think that this approach makes sense. I honestly do worry about the potential of hippo-human conflict. I’ve spent a lot of time with hippos. I don’t find them to be particularly aggressive, but in areas where they are constantly under pressure, the analogy I typically use, the first time someone, if they break into your house, you’re surprised. By time ten, if someone breaks into your house, you’re ready to attack. And I think that’s where we see a lot of hippo-human conflict that have led to human fatalities. Typically, I’m one of the people that when there is an attack that people call and say, “What can you tell us? What should we do?” And in the African settings, I think I wouldn’t get in a boat, in a canoe. I’m not interested in those trips because I am the person who hears about all of them that go south. I feel differently about being on land around hippos, but in the water in particular, there’s not much you can do. If a hippo is under threat and they’re coming for you, that’s not the time to be saying, “Well, what could I have done differently in this situation?” But yeah, there really aren’t any easy answers here in terms of protecting people, which I think is the most at the top of the list. Of course, protecting hippos, but I would put in front of that even protecting the native plants and animals. This is their national treasure and something that I know they want to protect. Klimek: So taking into account everything you’ve been saying about how this is a complex problem and none of the potential solutions are particularly good, what would be your recommendation as to how to balance human needs and wildlife needs? Lewison: I think we’re on the path. The folks that I’ve talked to and heard from are trying to be thoughtful to all of the sides, to the people who feel connected to the animals, obviously to the animals themselves and their welfare, but also to the native plants and animals. And I think we are now hopefully moving toward the place of making this somewhat more sustainable. Of course, I have those fears of potential conflict if the population does grow. You hear stories of people getting gored by bison in Yellowstone. That’s because people do dumb things around wild animals. And even though these are animals that are not from here, they are still wild. What I always want people to understand is the place where hippos are from is Africa, and the place where they really need desperate attention and support and conservation action is Africa, because while they’re thriving in Colombia, they are not thriving in the land where they have evolved. And that’s where I spend most of my time, is really trying to get organizations and governments and agencies to collaborate and coordinate so we can come up with sustainable conservation plans that absolutely protect people and their livelihoods and hippos and their ability to persist into the future. I love that there’s a whole new group of people who didn’t even know about hippos, had never even thought about them, and now care about them, and I just hope that that extends to caring about hippos where they’re from. Klimek: Rebecca Lewison is a conservation ecologist and professor at San Diego State University. She’s the director of SDSU’s Institute for Ecological Management and Monitoring. Thank you, Rebecca. This has been a fascinating talk. Lewison: Great to talk with you, Chris. Thanks so much.Klimek: To read Josh Hammer’s reporting about the Colombian hippos, go to SmithsonianMag.com. We’ll put a link to it in our show notes along with links to some of Lewison’s work. This week’s dinner party fact goes back to a time and place where hippos were presented as a potential solution to a problem rather than the cause of one—equally shocking, though. Donny Bajohr: Hey, everyone. I’m Donny Bajohr, one of three photo editors here at the magazine, and I have a tasty treat for you for this episode’s dinner party fact. In the early 20th century, America had a problem—actually, two problems. They had a meat shortage and they had an invasive species in the South, the hyacinth. So Congressman Robert Broussard brought a bill to the House to solve both problems with one animal: the hippo. He wanted to bring over the hippo to eat up some hyacinth and feed Americans. Congressman Broussard’s bill didn’t pass, but it’s too bad, because I would love to hang a fang in some hippo meat. Klimek (laughing): “Hang a fang!” Did you just come up with that? Bajohr: You never heard that phrase? Klimek: No. “Hang a fang.” I love it. Klimek: “There’s More to That” is a production of Smithsonian magazine and PRX Productions. From the magazine, our team is me, Debra Rosenberg and Brian Wolly. From PRX, our team is Jessica Miller, Genevieve Sponsler, Adriana Rozas Rivera, Ry Dorsey and Edwin Ochoa. The executive producer of PRX Productions is Jocelyn Gonzales. Our episode artwork is by Emily Lankiewicz. Fact-checking by Stephanie Abramson. Our music is from APM Music. I’m Chris Klimek. Thank you for listening. Get the latest Science stories in your inbox.

Ever since the demise of infamous drug kingpin, his pet hippos have flourished, wreaking havoc on the ecosystem and terrorizing local communities

Smithmag-Podcast-S02-Ep11-Hippo-article.jpg
Emily Lankiewicz

Four decades ago, Pablo Escobar brought to his Medellín hideaway four hippopotamuses, the centerpieces of a menagerie that included llamas, cheetahs, lions, tigers, ostriches and other exotic fauna. After Colombian police shot Escobar dead in December 1993, veterinarians removed the animals—except the hippos, which were deemed too dangerous to approach. The hippos fled to the nearby Magdalena River and multiplied.

Today, the descendants of Escobar’s hippos are believed to number nearly 200. Their uncontrolled growth threatens the region’s fragile waterways. Smithsonian contributor Joshua Hammer joins us to recount this strange history and explain why Colombian conservationists have embarked upon an unusual program to sterilize these hippos in the wild via “invasive surgical castration,” a procedure that is, as he has written for Smithsonian magazine, “medically complicated, expensive and sometimes dangerous for hippos as well as for the people performing it.” Then, ecologist Rebecca Lewison tells us how her long-term study of hippo populations in Africa offers hints of how these creatures will continue to alter the Colombian ecosystem—and what authorities can do about it.

A transcript is below. To subscribe to “There’s More to That,” and to listen to past episodes on why we’re still counting calories even though that’s been largely discredited as a healthy eating tool, what the orcas tipping over yachts are really doing, and how the shocking crime perpetrated by wealthy teens Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb a century ago helped to turn true crime into a perennial subject of American public fascination, find us on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts.


Joshua Hammer: I can’t remember where I first heard about them. I think I must’ve had some awareness of them for the last couple of years.

Chris Klimek: Josh Hammer is a journalist and author, and he’s been following a surprising story for Smithsonian magazine, one that goes all the way back to the 1980s.

Hammer: That’s when the drug lord Pablo Escobar began importing exotic animals for his hacienda in Antioquia province in northwestern Colombia.

Klimek: This was at the height of Pablo Escobar’s wealth and power, and the narco-terrorist wanted to live in a place that fit his larger-than-life image.

Hammer: He bought a big patch of property near the Magdalena River, which is the longest river in Colombia, a jungle-y area. He cleared the area and began transforming it into his private playground and began importing these animals, most of them, we believe, from zoos in the U.S. There were kangaroos, there were dolphins for his artificial lakes, elephants.

Klimek: But there was one kind of animal that unexpectedly created a wildlife crisis in northern Colombia, one that persists today—a big one.

Hammer: The facts are a little murky, but it looks like he imported four hippos, three females and one male, from a zoo or some sort of wildlife refuge, or an animal breeder in either Texas or California.

Klimek: You know when you buy two gerbils and then it turns into three or four or five gerbils? Well, the same thing happened with these hippos. And while Escobar eventually had to flee the area, they stuck around.

Hammer: After he was killed, fleeing the police in Medellín in 1993, basically the hacienda was abandoned, and the animals fended for themselves. Then the hippos started to expand. They started to move beyond the borders of the hacienda, and here we are 40 years later, and they’re dealing with a population of about, well, rough estimate is about 200 hippos right now—and growing, obviously.

Klimek: On its face, this is a pretty ridiculous situation. A drug lord’s feral hippos, swimming in the waters, eating their way through the Colombian jungles, interacting with the local populations, animal and human. But when you start to dig deeper, there’s a lot to be learned here about both the consequences of human behavior and conservation crises across the globe.

From Smithsonian magazine and PRX Productions, this is “There’s More to That,” the show where we’re hungry, hungry for stories about invasive hippos. In this episode, one of the most complicated wildlife puzzles in the world and what it means for both animals and humans. I’m Chris Klimek.


Klimek: Hi, it’s Chris. I hope you’re enjoying “There’s More to That.” We hope that our episodes are giving you a sense of what the world of Smithsonian magazine is all about, and we’d love to hear from you what you think of this season. More importantly, we want to know what you’d like to hear more of. Your input is key. If you have the time to help us design our future episodes, please take this survey. You can find it at SmithsonianMag.com/podcastsurvey. We’ll also put a link in our show notes. It should take about five minutes. Thanks again and, as always, thanks for listening.


Klimek: So since it’s been more than 30 years and not all our listeners may know, who was Pablo Escobar?

Hammer: Well, Escobar was born in a working-class neighborhood of Medellín. When he was in his teens, however, he began essentially a life of crime doing things like stealing tombstones from graveyards and sanding off the names and reselling them, and just forging documents, all sorts of stuff. And then in his early 20s, he began running cocaine.

I guess at the time, neighboring countries like Peru and Bolivia were producers, and he was bringing the cocaine in, processed and unprocessed, flying it up in a small plane to landing strips in the United States. And later he got involved with a couple of other Colombian dealers and formed what became known as the Medellín Cartel, which pretty much controlled all cocaine trafficking for years between Colombia and the United States. And so he grew extremely wealthy and bought his way into a seat in the Colombian parliament, and was living with total impunity and making billions of dollars until the mid-’80s, when it all caught up with him.

Klimek: What was life like in Colombia during Pablo Escobar’s lifetime?

Hammer: Very violent. The drug traffickers were carrying out their own terrible acts of violence in the mid-’80s. Escobar was carrying out assassinations. He had death squads killing his enemies, car bombings. In 1989, an unwitting courier carried a bomb onboard an Avianca jet, which blew up mid-flight, killed about 130 people. It was savage.

On top of that, you had this escalating civil war going on between FARC, the communist, Marxist guerrilla movement in Colombia, and the Colombian government. And then on top of that, you had these, what they call the autodefensas, which were these right-wing vigilante death squads, which were often in league with drug lords. They were getting a cut of the action from the drug trade, and they were also involved in killing suspected Marxists. So there were three major violent actors all causing chaos during the ’80s and ’90s in Colombia. It was a very, very difficult time. Up to 30,000 people were being killed in a year at the peak of the violence in Colombia.

Klimek: Escobar cultivated an image of power amidst the violence and turmoil. Josh says we can only speculate about how the hippos fit into that picture.

Hammer: Apparently there were a couple of other drug lords in South America that he was emulating. There’s something about this kind of criminality and these menageries, there’s an association with power and prestige to have wild animals, to be the master of your own menagerie. This menagerie that he built up served another purpose, too, because he opened it up to the public.

He allowed local Colombians to come onto his property and do a safari in electric vehicles around the grounds. So this, of course, helped to make him a very popular figure among a lot of Colombians when he was just spreading the money around and sponsoring soccer clubs. And then this was part of the same scheme to establish roots in the community, make him a popular figure.

Klimek: Where is he keeping these animals?

Hammer: He kept them on a property called Hacienda Nápoles. It’s about three hours east of Medellín. It’s a big area. He built artificial lakes and his mansion, his villa there, and he had 1,500 people working on the grounds, free-roaming menagerie of animals, helicopter pad, dinosaur theme park, just some other weird stuff. There was also a bull ring, et cetera, et cetera.

Klimek: How did the hippos end up roaming freely outside of the grounds of the hacienda?

Hammer: So there were never any real borders of this hacienda. It was carved out of the wilderness. So within a few days of his being killed, a lot of people stormed the grounds. They ripped everything apart looking for money, looking for weapons. The place was in chaos. The staff fled, and nobody came back to tend the animals.

The animals for a while were living on their own. After it fell into disrepair, it was eventually taken over by a private corporation and reborn as a safari park. I understand from talking to an official in the local government who was a young man in those days that there were electric vehicles that would take you around and let you tour the savanna. Elephants would come over to the vehicles and stick their trunk, just like an imitation African safari.

Finally, the government decided to do something about it, so this would’ve been about maybe ’98, ’99. They gathered up the animals, and they shipped most of them off to three zoos in Colombia. But nobody wanted to get near the hippos because they were frightened of them, and so the hippos were left to their own devices. By that time, there may have been 10, 12, I’m not sure, but, I mean, the females can produce a baby every year and a half, and they can be incredibly fertile.

Klimek: Then an almost Shakespearean power struggle began to play out.

Hammer: The oldest male born of these three female hippos wanted to be the alpha male and basically killed his own father and established a new hippo pod, and that’s the dynamic that happens. A male hippo will get in a fight with the alpha male and be exiled from the herd and then have to go off and find his own environment and wander off a few kilometers, get a female or two—boom, a new hippo herd is created. And this is what’s been happening slowly over the decades. Some of these hippos have been spotted like 50 miles outside of the boundaries of the Hacienda Nápoles. So they can really wander far.

Klimek: How are the hippos in the region faring now?

Hammer: I think they’re thriving. They don’t have any natural predators. They’re not hunted, and they have access to a lot of water and a lot of fruit and a lot of vegetables and a lot of vegetation, all the things that hippos need. So they’re doing very well.

Klimek: And why does that present a threat to people and to the environment?

Hammer: I think there is this exaggerated threat about just how dangerous hippos are. I mean, you often see media reports of them being the most dangerous animal. I don’t think that’s necessarily true. I think that they can be aggressive. I think generally they’re pretty gentle. It’s sort of like, you leave me alone, I’ll leave you alone.

But from what I understand, if you get pretty dense human populations and pretty dense hippo populations competing for the same territory—fishermen on the rivers and people settling the land along the rivers—and so you get a lot of opportunities for hippo-human clashes. Last year in a schoolyard, one hippo just wandered in, and kids were scared, teachers running every which way. And if you’re on a boat, they can come up underneath and drown you. They’re not totally harmless animals.

Klimek: The presence of hippos has also changed the Magdalena River itself.

Hammer: Another reason that people are concerned is just because they produce an awful lot of excrement. They can really pollute water resources. They’re an invasive species. They don’t really belong there. So the local species that are there, like the capybaras, the tortoises, other animals, it’s rapidly changing the biome and possibly threatening these other animals. Algae, bacteriological contamination, there definitely seems to be something going on with the water in Colombia in these areas.

Klimek: How have authorities tried to solve the problem of this exploding hippo population in Colombia?

Hammer: The first thing they did was way back in the early 2000s, a professional hunter was hired, and he actually shot and killed a hippo that had wandered about 50 miles or so outside the hacienda and then posed with the corpse of his hippo, and it created a huge uproar in Colombia. I believe this was 2008, maybe 2009. Then there was a series of protests in Bogotá, and all across Colombia people were outraged and distraught. The minister of the environment had to resign, and they basically declared a moratorium on killing hippos.

They started to try to dart hippos in the wild and do these castrations. That didn’t really work, because the tranquilizers take a while to have an effect, and it was dangerous to follow these hippos around, and so the hippos would generally disappear. They managed to do this once. They were able to track a hippo and castrate it after the tranquilizer knocked him out.

And then they tried chemical castrations, where they would dart it with a chemical. But the problem with that method is that they would have to use a two-step process, and it was almost impossible to track the hippo to deliver the second dart two months later. So that didn’t work.

They tried to cordon off the hacienda, but that didn’t work either, because first of all, many of the hippos had already left the hacienda, and second of all, the property was too large. They couldn’t really construct anything strong enough to keep the animals in, so that didn’t work.

They tried getting international zoos to take the hippos, and that created a huge protest among environmental groups who didn’t believe that the resources should be spent with this translocation program. And most zoos didn’t want them anyway, so that didn’t work.

Finally, last year, they began this aggressive surgical castration campaign using traps and corrals and trying to lure the animals into these corrals, keeping them trapped, and then sterilizing them on the spot, and that has had a certain amount of success. So they’ve done about ten so far. The project began in earnest in October, and from what I understand, they were forced to stop for a couple of months because of a contract renegotiation and budget disputes.

But now they apparently have picked it up again. So it’s averaging one and a half a month or something. They say that they need to sterilize at least 40 a year to keep the population from growing. So they’re falling short, and it’s a really difficult procedure. They’re getting better at it, clearly, but it still doesn’t seem to be sufficient to deal with the numbers.


Rebecca Lewison: I remember somebody telling me, and I thought, “What? That can’t be right. There’s no way. How would there be hippos in Colombia?”

Klimek: Rebecca Lewison is an ecologist at San Diego State University. She’s also co-chair of the Hippo Specialist Group of IUCN, an international conservation organization. She mostly spends her time worrying about hippos in Africa, but at some point in the late ’90s or early 2000s, she started getting inquiries about the Colombian hippos.

Lewison: I’ve never been to Colombia, but what it looks like is a paradise for hippos, water everywhere, grass everywhere. I mean, I can see why they are thriving.

Klimek: We went to Rebecca for some more in-depth information about hippo biology, conservation, and some ideas for a potential solution in Colombia. But we began the conversation by asking: What’s it like to see a hippo up close in the wild?

Lewison: It’s just like, “Oh, my God, they’re so big,” which is kind of dumb, since you know they’re this massive animal. But when you first see them in the water, you just see that the top surface of their heads and their backs, and then when they actually come out, it’s the iceberg, there’s a lot under there.

Klimek: What makes it hard to study hippos in the wild?

Lewison: The challenge with hippos in the wild is when you go to a place that has hippos, they’re seemingly everywhere, which is not, of course, really true, but you’ll see a lot of them. They all come together and bunch up in rivers or lakes, but they’re really tough to study. And so compared to even other big gray things like elephants and rhinos, we really know comparatively little about them, because they are essentially marine mammals. They’re in the water all day and they only come out at night to feed.

So nighttime is a tough time to be doing fieldwork, not super safe, and most of the places where they’re in the water, you can’t get in there with them. It’s a hundred percent not safe either because of hippos or because of crocodiles, and the water is not clear, so we don’t really know what’s happening.

Other things that make them really hard to study is they basically don’t have a neck. So most of the ways that we put collars on animals, it goes around their neck, and they don’t have a neck. They use their neck, and so collaring them doesn’t really work.

And in another just crazy turn of events, they are very difficult to chemically immobilize or tranquilize. We don’t really understand it, but they tend to not do well with all the drugs that we use for elephants and rhinos. It’s just made it really hard to study them and learn really basic things like who’s related to who.

Identifying individuals is really tough, because we don’t really see much of them. Counting hippos is really hard, and you’d say, “Well, why? They’re massive, 4,000, 5,000 pounds.” But they’re in the water, and counting things in the water is really tough. They submerge. They don’t just stay. It’s not like you can say, “OK, everybody out of the water. I have to count you.” We’re increasingly using drones, but even with that, that can cause disturbance, so maybe a hippo will go underwater.

Klimek: What’s the biggest threat to hippos in their native habitat now?

Lewison: The biggest threat is definitely habitat loss. They require freshwater, and that really puts them at the crosshairs of people who also really rely on freshwater. And that’s probably the most valuable and limited resource on Earth, is freshwater, and it really puts them in direct conflict with people.

Right behind that is a threat that is here but is potentially intensifying, which is just the impacts of climate change, because we know that impacts water quality and quantity. But I think it really all of that boils down to they just are running out of places to be.

Klimek: Where are global hippo populations now, generally?

Lewison: We don’t have great, great counts of them, but we think there’s about 200,000 to 300,000, which is surprisingly few. That’s even less elephants than there are. From a conservation perspective, there’s certainly populations in countries where hippo populations seem to be stable—those are typically in eastern and southern Africa—and definitely countries where hippo populations are declining, which is absolutely in western African countries. And in large part that is actually driven by just large-scale habitat loss.

So overall the conservation outlook is not great. They are listed on the IUCN Red List, which is our international way of keeping track of the conservation status of animals, and they are listed as vulnerable because of that. And just increasingly, we just have concerns about their viability going forward.

Klimek: The hippo situation in Colombia is completely unprecedented, so Rebecca says she has to look to African hippos for answers about what’s going on.

Lewison: Hippos in Africa really exhibit this sort of boom-bust cycle oftentimes, particularly in places where the water and grass resources vary a lot within a year, which is a lot of places in eastern, southern Africa that have a dry season and a wet season. When there’s a drought, hippo populations can crash, a lot of mortality, both of adults and absolutely of juveniles because of either not enough water or not enough resources.

What we also see for hippo populations, which is what makes a lot of us optimistic for a future for hippos, is that they respond very well to good conditions. When there’s a lot of rain and a lot of water, we see hippo populations flourish and really grow and expand and increase very quickly, and that’s certainly what they seem to have in Colombia.

One thing that I think is interesting in Colombia is I think they’re spending a lot more time out of the water than hippos do in Africa, in part because the climate, it’s humid, it’s much more forgiving for a hippo. They have pretty sensitive skin, which is funny to say because they also are known to have some of the thickest skin, but there’s some sensitivity around them. Without water, they will die, or moisture, but I think they have that. And so maybe that’s another reason that people are really connecting to them is they can see them so much more than you can in the African context.

Klimek: Many places, non-native animal populations have been controlled by introducing predator species. Why would that not work here?

Lewison: I just don’t know what you’d introduce. The largest predator to the hippo, the most pervasive threat from predation for hippos is people. It is true that in Africa, lions, they will hunt younger hippos, smaller hippos. I don’t think we want to introduce African lions to Colombia. They certainly have their own carnivores, but it’s just not going to happen. There just isn’t anything bigger. Dinosaurs? We’ve all seen that movie, so we know how that goes.

We don’t have an option here of going up the food chain. Their skin is that thick. Save with a gun, they’re pretty hard to kill, and I don’t think there’s going to be a strategy to introduce anything that’s big enough to get them. And honestly, predation just doesn’t have a big impact even in African settings. It’s really the environment that controls hippo populations.

Klimek: How do you feel about the possibility of culling these hippos? Should that be considered as a potential solution?

Lewison: It’s a tough question, again, because of how I think folks in the area have really identified with the hippos, absolutely are concerned about animal welfare, and I obviously take all of that very seriously as well. I just don’t think at this point there’s any really good solutions. The good solution needed to come in 1993, and we’re way beyond that. So now the situation where we are, the fork in the road, I do think that this approach makes sense.

I honestly do worry about the potential of hippo-human conflict. I’ve spent a lot of time with hippos. I don’t find them to be particularly aggressive, but in areas where they are constantly under pressure, the analogy I typically use, the first time someone, if they break into your house, you’re surprised. By time ten, if someone breaks into your house, you’re ready to attack. And I think that’s where we see a lot of hippo-human conflict that have led to human fatalities.

Typically, I’m one of the people that when there is an attack that people call and say, “What can you tell us? What should we do?” And in the African settings, I think I wouldn’t get in a boat, in a canoe. I’m not interested in those trips because I am the person who hears about all of them that go south. I feel differently about being on land around hippos, but in the water in particular, there’s not much you can do. If a hippo is under threat and they’re coming for you, that’s not the time to be saying, “Well, what could I have done differently in this situation?”

But yeah, there really aren’t any easy answers here in terms of protecting people, which I think is the most at the top of the list. Of course, protecting hippos, but I would put in front of that even protecting the native plants and animals. This is their national treasure and something that I know they want to protect.

Klimek: So taking into account everything you’ve been saying about how this is a complex problem and none of the potential solutions are particularly good, what would be your recommendation as to how to balance human needs and wildlife needs?

Lewison: I think we’re on the path. The folks that I’ve talked to and heard from are trying to be thoughtful to all of the sides, to the people who feel connected to the animals, obviously to the animals themselves and their welfare, but also to the native plants and animals. And I think we are now hopefully moving toward the place of making this somewhat more sustainable. Of course, I have those fears of potential conflict if the population does grow. You hear stories of people getting gored by bison in Yellowstone. That’s because people do dumb things around wild animals. And even though these are animals that are not from here, they are still wild.

What I always want people to understand is the place where hippos are from is Africa, and the place where they really need desperate attention and support and conservation action is Africa, because while they’re thriving in Colombia, they are not thriving in the land where they have evolved. And that’s where I spend most of my time, is really trying to get organizations and governments and agencies to collaborate and coordinate so we can come up with sustainable conservation plans that absolutely protect people and their livelihoods and hippos and their ability to persist into the future.

I love that there’s a whole new group of people who didn’t even know about hippos, had never even thought about them, and now care about them, and I just hope that that extends to caring about hippos where they’re from.

Klimek: Rebecca Lewison is a conservation ecologist and professor at San Diego State University. She’s the director of SDSU’s Institute for Ecological Management and Monitoring. Thank you, Rebecca. This has been a fascinating talk.

Lewison: Great to talk with you, Chris. Thanks so much.


Klimek: To read Josh Hammer’s reporting about the Colombian hippos, go to SmithsonianMag.com. We’ll put a link to it in our show notes along with links to some of Lewison’s work. This week’s dinner party fact goes back to a time and place where hippos were presented as a potential solution to a problem rather than the cause of one—equally shocking, though.

Donny Bajohr: Hey, everyone. I’m Donny Bajohr, one of three photo editors here at the magazine, and I have a tasty treat for you for this episode’s dinner party fact. In the early 20th century, America had a problem—actually, two problems. They had a meat shortage and they had an invasive species in the South, the hyacinth. So Congressman Robert Broussard brought a bill to the House to solve both problems with one animal: the hippo. He wanted to bring over the hippo to eat up some hyacinth and feed Americans. Congressman Broussard’s bill didn’t pass, but it’s too bad, because I would love to hang a fang in some hippo meat.

Klimek (laughing): “Hang a fang!” Did you just come up with that?

Bajohr: You never heard that phrase?

Klimek: No. “Hang a fang.” I love it.

Klimek: “There’s More to That” is a production of Smithsonian magazine and PRX Productions. From the magazine, our team is me, Debra Rosenberg and Brian Wolly. From PRX, our team is Jessica Miller, Genevieve Sponsler, Adriana Rozas Rivera, Ry Dorsey and Edwin Ochoa. The executive producer of PRX Productions is Jocelyn Gonzales. Our episode artwork is by Emily Lankiewicz. Fact-checking by Stephanie Abramson. Our music is from APM Music.

I’m Chris Klimek. Thank you for listening.

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With thousands of feral horses gone, Kosciuszko’s fragile ecosystems are slowly recovering

With feral horses gone, fragile alpine areas are no longer being trampled by hard hooves. But Kosciuszko’s landscapes will take decades to recover.

Author supplied , CC BY-NDIn Kosciuszko National Park in Australia’s alpine region, the landscape is slowly changing. Patches of native vegetation cropped bald by horses are regrowing. Some long-eroded creek banks look less compacted along the edges. Visitors come across fewer horses standing on the roads, a real traffic hazard. In 2023, New South Wales authorised the aerial shooting of feral horses in Kosciuszko National Park. And in late November, the government passed a bill to repeal the law that recognised feral horses as having “heritage status” in the park. This change removed the legal protections on horses in Kosciuszko that had set them apart from other introduced species such as deer, pigs, foxes and rabbits. Now horses will be treated the same way as other invasive species across Australia, restoring consistency to managing their impact on the landscape. The latest survey estimates around 3,000 horses remain in Kosciuszko National Park, down from roughly 17,000 a year ago. More than 9,000 horses have been culled since 2021. The current management plan is designed to retain 3,000 horses – a compromise between ecological protection and perceived heritage values. It will remain in place until mid-2027. So what are the environmental effects of having fewer horses in Kosciuszko? And what could the park look like in the future? Stallion standing in an alpine sphagnum bog. Author supplied, CC BY-ND The damage For decades, feral horses have been a major source of ecological damage in Kosciuszko’s alpine landscapes. Their impacts have been especially pronounced in the past decade, as horse numbers within the fragile high country grew largely unchecked. Empirical studies and analyses of satellite imagery show horses reduce vegetation cover, break down soil structure, and damage streambanks, peat beds and alpine bogs – carbon-rich soils built over tens of thousands of years. Some of this damage results from their feeding on slow-growing alpine grasses and herbs. Horses typically eat 2% of their body mass daily, which equates to about 8 kilograms each day. Compare this to the largest native herbivore in the high country, the Eastern Grey Kangaroo, which eats roughly 600 grams per day, a 13-fold difference. But the real damage is done by their feet. Feral horses walk up to 50 kilometres a day, and their hard hooves collapse the sphagnum moss layers and compact the deep peat soils. This plants and soils normally act like slow-release water sponges, storing snowmelt and feeding streams throughout summer. And unlike wombats, kangaroos and other native wildlife, feral horses follow each other in single file, making deep walking paths that crisscross alpine meadows, draining them dry. Read more: Feral horses in Australia's high country are damaging peatlands, decreasing carbon stores Those changes affect the whole ecosystem. Alpine skinks, broad-toothed rats, corroboree frogs, mountain pygmy possums, and native fish all depend on dense vegetation, intact moss beds or sediment-free streams — the very features horses degrade. A mob of feral horses crossing a river in Kosciuszko National Park. Author supplied, CC BY-ND Waterways have been hit especially hard. The Australian Alps supply nearly a third of the surface water that enters the Murray–Darling Basin, yet horse trampling around waterways muddies clear streams and destabilises the slow, steady inflows on which these catchments rely. These impacts aren’t confined to the park. In recent years, large numbers of horses have moved into adjoining areas, including state forests, where their disturbance compounds the effects of commercial logging and endangers visitors and overnight campers. Although most attention about horse impacts have focused on Kosciuszko and alpine ecosystems more generally, almost half a million feral horses affect landscapes Australia-wide, with tropical woodlands and semi-arid rangelands hardest hit. An alpine creek bank, its peaty soil eroded from horse tracks. Author supplied, CC BY-ND What we’ve seen so far We have spent a lot of time working in the park over the past year. And we’ve begun to notice small shifts in the high country that align with what we’d expect from feral animal control. We’ve spotted fewer horses during our days in the field. In areas that were repeatedly trampled, tiny pockets of vegetation are creeping into bare patches. Even some long-eroded banks look softer at the edges. These impressions are strictly anecdotal, not formal evidence. But they hint at a landscape starting to breathe again as the pressure eases. And there’s a safety element too. Anyone who drives the alpine roads knows the shock of rounding a bend among the snowgums to find a horse, or an entire mob, standing on the bitumen. Fewer horses mean fewer of those dangerous encounters for researchers, National Parks staff, and visitors alike. The slow return With far fewer horses in the high country, these pressures are beginning to ease. As trampling declines, bogs and fens are expected to start recovering and hold water for longer. Moss beds will start to regrow and other peat-forming plants will be able to regain a foothold in soils that aren’t constantly compacted and overgrazed. Less grazing means alpine herbs, sedges and snow-grass have room to return. Bare ground stabilises. Stream edges settle. Creeklines begin to clear. A rocky alpine stream beneath the main range in Kosciusko National Park. Author supplied, CC BY-ND Those improvements flow upwards: more stable soils and denser vegetation creates better habitat for the frogs, skinks, small mammals and invertebrates that rely on cool, wet, structured alpine environments. Recovery will take time – decades, not months. Long-term empirical studies will be essential to show what is changing and identify parts of the park where targeted restoration efforts will be needed to hasten recovery. Finally, a real chance None of this will happen quickly. Alpine ecosystems heal slowly, and decades of damage can’t be undone overnight. Short growing seasons mean plants return gradually, not in sudden flushes. Many slopes and creeklines still show the scars of cattle grazing more than 60 years after livestock were removed. Disturbance lingers here for generations. Lower horse numbers are only a beginning, but they’re the essential first step. And now — with fewer horses on the ground and the legal barriers removed — Kosciuszko finally has a realistic path to recovery. The coming decade will determine how much of its fragile alpine heritage can be restored. The delicate alpine ecosystem of Kosciuszko National Park. Author Supplied, CC BY-ND David M Watson receives research funding from the Federal Government (through ARC, DAFF, DCCEEW), and is on the board of the Holbrook Landcare Network and the Great Eastern Ranges. He served two terms on the NSW Threatened Species Scientific Committee, prior to resigning when the Wild Horse Heritage Act became law in June 2018.Patrick Finnerty is the current director for early career ecology at the Ecological Society of Australia, the Early Career Coordinator at the Australasian Wildlife Management Society, and a council member for the Royal Zoological Society of NSW. He receives funding from the Australian Research Council.

Louisiana town fights for relief after a billion-dollar oil disaster

Federal and state officials have sued the company behind the blast, but Roseland, Louisiana, residents say the case won’t bring relief to their town.

Four months have passed since a Louisiana oil facility burst apart, spewing a dense black sludge that drifted across homes, farms, and waterways as far as 50 miles away.  Since then, the U.S. Department of Justice and Louisiana environmental regulators have filed a sweeping lawsuit against Smitty’s Supply, the company that ran the facility storing oil and vehicle lubricants. But residents in the majority-Black town are skeptical that they’ll benefit from the $1 billion federal lawsuit.  Much of that belief stems from the fact that despite repeated calls for help, the black goo still clings to walls, roofs, and soil of more than half of the town’s properties, according to Van Showers, the mayor of Roseland, Louisiana.  “People want to know when they’re going to receive help, and there is nothing to make them think that this process would lead to that,” said Showers, who works at a local chicken processing plant and has struggled financially through the clean-up process.  That skepticism is rooted in hard experience — and in a broader history of environmental racism that has left Black communities shouldering disproportionate burdens. The gap has left residents in a state of prolonged uncertainty about their water, their health, and whether the legal action unfolding in distant courtrooms will ever reach their homes. It is a familiar pattern, particularly in Louisiana, where environmental disasters have consistently hit Black and low-income communities hardest while leaving them last in line for recovery. Read Next How government shutdowns give polluters a free pass Naveena Sadasivam Initially, residents in the town, where the average person earns just $17,000 per year, were told to clean up the mess themselves.  The explosion had sprayed the community of 1,100 residents with dozens of chemicals, including cancer-causing ones known as PFAS, or “forever chemicals.” One resident living on a fixed income told Capital B that in the weeks after the event she went over $1,000 in credit card debt to replace the stained panels on her trailer.  However, in October, after sustained pressure from residents, the tide seemed to turn. Federal and state agencies ramped up their presence in the disaster zone, canvassed the community, brought the lawsuit, and began testing wildlife — including fish and deer — for contamination. But even with the increased governmental response, attorneys, residents, and local officials warn that it is not nearly enough. The lawsuit compensation, if ever paid out, will most likely not trickle down to residents, Showers and local lawyers said. Civil penalties collected from federal lawsuits are generally deposited into the U.S. Treasury’s general fund and are often used exclusively to fund environmental cleanup costs, not to support residents.  “As far as the lawsuit, I don’t think it’s going to benefit the community,” Showers said. Read Next They survived the hurricane. Their insurance company didn’t. Zoya Teirstein The government’s suit alleges that for years, Smitty’s knowingly violated safety rules and pollution permits. The company failed to maintain basic spill-prevention and emergency response plans, regulators said.  The complaint says millions of gallons of contaminated firefighting water, oil, and chemicals flowed off-site into ditches, and seeks more than $1 billion in fines and penalties tied to the explosion and spill. In response to the lawsuit, a representative of Smitty’s wrote, “Smitty’s has been and remains committed to following all applicable laws and regulations, and to operating as a responsible member of the Tangipahoa Parish community.” The disaster was the “result of an unforeseen industrial fire,” the representative added, and the company is “implementing measures to help prevent future incidents and protect our waterways and neighbors.” Yet even since the lawsuit was brought, according to state documents, Smitty’s was caught pumping unpermitted “oily liquids” into local waterways.  Meanwhile, a recent Louisiana Department of Environmental Quality report shows a state contractor has recovered at least 74 live wild animals from the disaster zone and 59 of them had either digested the oily substance or were covered in it. At least eight animals were found dead, including four turtles and an alligator. Dozens more pets and livestock, including cattle and horses, have been coated in the residue. Many residents, including Showers, have seen their animals die. Those findings, combined with reports of stillborn calves, underscore how deeply the contamination has seeped into daily life, residents said.  The explosion has not only unleashed lasting environmental and health threats — the kind that, as Showers worries, “can lay dormant for years and then all of a sudden … you start getting a lot of folks with cancer” — it has also shuttered Roseland’s largest employer, Smitty’s Supply, indefinitely. Millie Simmons lives less than a mile from the explosion site. She has felt lingering health effects from the disaster. Adam Mahoney / Capital B For weeks after the explosion, Millie Simmons, a 58-year-old child care worker, had difficulty being outside in Roseland for longer than 10 minutes without respiratory irritation. Even when inside her home, she felt “drained” and “sluggish” for weeks.  Showers said she is not alone. The biggest complaints he is still receiving are that “people are still sick” and “want to know when they’re going to receive help as far as getting their property cleaned.” “Most definitely, we deserve something,” Simmons said.  A nation’s environmental divide In October, the federal government delegated the cleanup process entirely to the state and Smitty’s. Some residents say they have seen Smitty’s contractors cleaning a few properties, but others, including the mayor, say their claims have gone unanswered. Showers said the company reimbursed him for just one night in a hotel when he was forced to leave the town after the explosion and never responded to his request for compensation after a litter of his dogs fell ill and died in the weeks after.  Advocates with the Louisiana Environmental Action Network, or LEAN, who have notified Smitty’s and federal and state environmental regulators of their intent to sue, said residents continue to approach them about contaminated crops and water wells. They’re unsure if their water is safe, even months later.  “There’s so many unanswered questions that bring such huge anxiety to the communities,” said Marylee Orr, LEAN’s executive director. “People don’t feel safe in their homes.”​​ A litter of dogs owned by Roseland’s mayor, Van Showers, in 2023. His most recent litter died after the explosion, he said. Courtesy of Van Showers Orr said she is especially worried that the courtroom path now unfolding will repeat familiar patterns from other environmental disasters.  In places like Grand Bois in south Louisiana and in Flint, Michigan, she noted, residents waited years for historic settlements to turn into actual checks they could cash — only to see large portions of the money eaten up by legal fees. In Flint, residents have waited over a decade for compensation for the country’s most notorious water crisis that caused clusters of neurological and developmental issues among children. When it is all said and done, only a portion of the impacted residents will receive checks for about $1,000. In Roseland, Showers has found himself operating in an information vacuum. He is relying more on outside news reports than official briefings to learn the full extent of contamination in his own town. In fact, he did not know about the state report showing the harms to local animals until Capital B shared it with him.  “No one from the government has ever told me anything,” he said. “It’s aggravating.” That lack of transparency makes it harder, he added, to answer the basic questions residents bring to him at the grocery store, at church, and outside town hall: “Is my water safe? What’s happening to the animals? Am I going to be OK?” In October, Showers and residents of Roseland organized a town cleanup. Courtesy of the City of Roseland This is a dynamic that reflects both the long-standing political dynamics of Louisiana and deepening uncertainty under the Trump administration.  His position as a Black Democrat leading a majority-Black town in a state dominated by white, conservative leadership has only intensified that isolation, he told Capital B in September.  Historically Black communities have received less recovery aid than white areas with comparable damage during environmental disasters. Now, experts warn that federal support for environmental disasters in Black and Democratic areas is poised to weaken even further under the Trump administration, which has slashed EPA and DOJ enforcement to historic lows. During the first 11 months of Trump’s second term, the EPA and DOJ have filed just 20 enforcement actions against polluters, imposing $15.1 million in penalties. During the final 19 days of the Biden administration last January, the EPA and DOJ imposed $590 million in penalties.  The current administration has also instructed EPA officials not to consider whether affected communities are “minority or low-income populations” when prioritizing enforcement actions. Showers estimates that fewer than three-quarters of properties have been cleaned and that many residents who dutifully called the claims hotline are still living with stained roofs, sticky yards, and lingering health problems. “There’s just not enough information being put out or work being done to make people feel at ease about what’s going on.” This story was originally published by Grist with the headline Louisiana town fights for relief after a billion-dollar oil disaster on Jan 3, 2026.

Are you a hellraiser mite or a knobbled weevil? Take the quiz and vote for NZ’s Bug of the Year

Take the personality quiz to match with one of NZ’s larger-than-life little creatures, then cast your vote.

The black tunnelweb spider. Samuel Purdie, CC BY-NCThe New Zealand velvet worm’s reign as Bug of the Year is coming to an end, with voting now open for the 2026 competition. This year, 21 nominees are vying for the crown in the competition’s fourth year. Nearly 100 bugs have so far featured, representing an incredible range of rich invertebrate diversity – from insects and arachnids to crustaceans, worms and molluscs. The term “bug” was chosen deliberately. While not scientifically precise, it acts as an easily understood umbrella definition of Aotearoa New Zealand’s sometimes overlooked littlest animals. As relatively large organisms ourselves, we humans tend to notice and celebrate larger and more charismatic fauna and flora, such as birds and trees. But they comprise only about 5% of New Zealand’s estimated 70,000 native land species. The rest are small and often unseen, but absolutely vital. Aotearoa is home to over 20,000 insect species – and those are just the ones we’ve identified. Around 6,000 beetle species alone crawl, burrow and fly across our landscape. Bugs are the tiny critters that run the world. Forming the base of many food webs and ecological interactions, they underpin much of our freshwater and terrestrial biodiversity. They pollinate food crops, decompose waste and recycle nutrients. Owing to their fast response to environmental changes, they also serve as key indicators of environmental health. Master of camouflage: the double-spined stick insect. Dougal Townsend, CC BY-NC And the nominees are … This year’s nominees are the most diverse in the competition’s history. There are repeat candidates, such as the endangered Canterbury knobbled weevil (Hadramphus tuberculatus), as well as new contenders such as the tadpole shrimp (Lepidurus apus viridis) which reproduces without males, or the double-spined stick insect (Micrarchus hystriculeus), which is an incredible master of camouflage. Some nominees, such as the sapphire spider fly (Apsona muscaria) – a fly that eats spiders – are relatively unknown. And there are more familiar species such as the impressively large black tunnelweb spider (Porrhothele antipodiana). Others are known for their outstanding features or behaviour, including the hellraiser mite (Neotrichozetes spinulosa), which looks like a walking pin-cushion, and a critically threatened avatar moth (Arctesthes avatar), named for the movie series with its themes of environmental destruction. We even have the ancient and gigantic glow-in-the-dark North Auckland worm, and the Otago alpine cockroach (Celatoblatta quinquemaculata) that can survive being frozen solid. There is also one of the world’s only marine insects, the intertidal caddisfly (Philanisus plebeius), whose nymph lives on the rocky shore. Like a walking pin-cushion: the hellraiser mite. Shou Saito, CC BY-NC Many are endemic and found only here. But like bugs and insect populations around the planet, they face mounting threats – described in one study as “death by a thousand cuts” – from climate change, agrichemical use and habitat loss or modification. Aotearoa is not exempt from these threats, but many of our bugs are data-deficient, understudied, underappreciated and often out-competed for attention by other wildlife. This summer, keep an eye out for the tiny things around you: the bugs that soar in our skies, scamper in our forests, settle in our rivers and lakes or even hide underground. As humans continue to expand urban landscapes into natural ones, the Entomological Society of New Zealand hopes its Bug of the Year contest will help build public support and appreciation for more research into these unsung heroes of the natural world. How to vote Not sure what to vote for? Take the personality quiz to see which bug you most align with. Voting closes on February 16 2026, with results announced on February 18. Nominees are suggested by the public, so if your top pick isn’t featured this year, you can make recommendations by July 1 for the 2027 contest and beyond. Connal McLean is affiliated with The Entomological Society of New Zealand and The Moths and Butterflies of New Zealand Trust. Jacqueline Theis receives funding from the Ministry of Business, Innovation and Employment (grant number UOWX2101). She is affiliated with the Entomological Society of New Zealand.

The Top Human Evolution Discoveries of 2025, From the Intriguing Neanderthal Diet to the Oldest Western European Face Fossil

Smithsonian paleoanthropologists examine the year’s most fascinating revelations

The Top Human Evolution Discoveries of 2025, From the Intriguing Neanderthal Diet to the Oldest Western European Face Fossil Smithsonian paleoanthropologists examine the year’s most fascinating revelations Paranthropus boisei composite hand Courtesy of Carrie Mongle This has been quite the wild year in human evolution stories. Our relatives, living and extinct, got a lot of attention—from new developments in ape cognition to an expanded perspective of a big-toothed hominin cousin. A new view on a famous foot also revealed more about a lesser-known hominin species, Australopithecus deyiremeda. New tool and technology finds, coupled with dietary studies, showed us more than ever about the behavior of our ancestors and ourselves. New fossils gave us a glimpse at the earliest Europeans, predating both our own species and the Neanderthals. Finally, we dove deeper into the blockbuster story of the year, looking at some of the biggest Denisovan studies which give us a clearer than ever picture of these enigmatic human relatives.Human traits of chimps and bonobos Portrait of a bonobo Fiona Rogers / Getty Images A February study investigated theory of mind, or the uniquely human trait of recognizing the cognitive sapience of others, which allows modern humans to communicate and coordinate to an extent not seen in other animals. Study co-author Luke Townrow and colleagues set up an experiment where bonobos would receive a food reward hidden under cups, but only if they cooperated with their human partner and showed them where the food was first. Sometimes the bonobo could tell the human knew where the food was, and sometimes the animal could tell the human didn’t know where the food was. Bonobos pointed to the location of the hidden food more frequently and quicker when they knew the human was ignorant of the food’s location, indicating that they could interpret the human’s mental state and act accordingly, a hallmark of theory of mind. In addition to cooperating, an April study shows that apes also share, especially when it comes to fermented fruit. Anna Bowland and colleagues documented the first recorded instance of fermented food sharing in chimpanzees, observed in Cantanhez National Park, Guinea-Bissau. At least 17 chimps of all ages shared fermented breadfruits, ranging between 0.01 percent and 0.61 percent alcohol by volume. While this may not be enough ethanol to result in the sort of intoxication levels desired by many humans, this demonstrates that food sharing, and fermented food consumption, have deep evolutionary roots, supported by the evolution of ethanol metabolism among all African apes. On top of all that monkey business, an October study shows that chimps even have complex decision-making processes. Hanna Schleihauf and colleagues presented to chimps two boxes, one that contained food and one that was either empty or contained a non-food item. The chimps were allowed to choose a box twice, after receiving either weak or strong evidence about which box contains the food. The team found that chimps were able to revise their beliefs about the food’s location in response to more convincing evidence: When they picked the wrong box after the weak hint, they switched to the correct box after the following strong hint. Also, when they picked the correct box after a strong hint, they kept their selection after a weak hint. The study highlights the chimpanzees’ ability to make rational decisions, and even change decisions, in response to learning new information. Fun fact: Chimps may use medicinal herbs In a study last year, researchers collected extracts of plants that they saw chimpanzees eating outside of their normal diets in Uganda’s Budongo Central Forest Reserve. The researchers discovered that “88 percent of the plant extracts inhibited bacterial growth, while 33 percent had anti-inflammatory properties.” A holistic picture of Paranthropus The reconstructed left hand of the Paranthropus boisei Mongle, Carrie et al., Nature, 2025 Besides learning more about our ape relatives, we also learned a lot more about some of our hominin cousins this year. Paranthropus is a genus of hominins consisting of three species, mostly known for their large teeth and massive chewing muscles that they likely used to break down tough plant fibers. However, not much was known about them outside of their mouths and skulls. A Paranthropus study from April helps to close this gap, describing an articulated lower limb from the Swartkrans site in South Africa. Travis Pickering and colleagues described a partial pelvis, femur and tibia of an adult Paranthropus robustus dating back 2.3 million to 1.7 million years ago. The anatomy of the hip, femur and knee indicate that this individual was fully bipedal. This hominin would probably have been only about three feet tall, one of the tiniest hominins on record. Due to a lack of other fossil material for comparison and the pelvis fossil being very incomplete, estimating the sex of this individual is more difficult. However, another study from May pioneered the use of different methods to estimate the sex of Paranthropus fossils. Analyzing proteins preserved in fossil tooth enamel, Palesa Madupe and colleagues were able to determine sex and begin to investigate genetic variability in Paranthropus fossils from South Africa. Using these proteins, the team was able to identify two male and two female individuals, allowing for more accurate hypotheses about sexual dimorphism (sex-based body size and shape differences). The team also found that one of the individuals appeared to be more distantly related, hinting at microevolution within this species. Lastly, a study published in October described a Paranthropus boisei hand from the Koobi Fora site in Kenya, which allowed scientists to learn if Paranthropus could have made stone tools. Carrie Mongle and colleagues looked at the nearly complete Paranthropus hand, which reveals a mostly hominin-looking morphology. Yet with strong musculature and wide bones, the grasping capabilities of Paranthropus seem to converge with that of gorillas, although they likely used this powerful grip to strip vegetation and process food rather than for climbing. Additionally, with a long thumb and precision grasping capabilities, the authors hypothesize that nothing in their hand morphology would have prevented Paranthropus boisei from making and using stone tools. This builds on other recent finds suggesting that the ability to make and use complex tools was not limited to the genus Homo.The family of a famous footThe Burtele foot, a fossil from Ethiopia that was described in 2012 and originally not given a species designation, dates to about 3.4 million years ago. Despite being contemporaneous with Australopithecus afarensis, Lucy’s species, the fossil looked almost nothing like it. The locomotor adaptations were completely different, and the foot still had an opposable big toe, like modern apes and the earlier genus Ardipithecus. In November, Yohannes Haile-Selassie and colleagues published research on other fossils from the same site where the Burtele foot was found. A new mandible with teeth links the hominin fossils at Burtele to a less well-known species, Australopithecus deyiremeda. This species had primitive teeth and grasping feet, with isotopic evidence pointing to a plant-based diet more similar to that of earlier species like Ardipithecus ramidus and Australopithecus anamensis. These new finds show that primitive traits persisted more recently into the timeline of human evolution and that our family tree is even bushier than previously thought.Ancient tool technologies An ancient ochre fragment that shows signs of re-use  d’Errico, Francesco et al., Science Advances, 2025 Archaeological sites, by definition, are evidence of past human behavior. But it’s not often a find is unearthed that turns out to be evidence of just one past human’s behavior. A study in August by Dominik Chlachula and colleagues reports on a small cluster of 29 stone artifacts from the Milovice IV site in the Czech Republic that were probably bundled together in a container or pouch made of perishable material: basically, a Stone Age hunter-gatherer’s personal toolkit. The 30,000-year-old blade and bladelet tools were made from different kinds of stone (flint, radiolarite, chert and opal). Use-wear analysis showed they were used for cutting, scraping and drilling, and the kit also included projectiles used for hunting. Now we move farther back in time, to when some of the earliest members of our lineage were making tools. In November, David Braun and colleagues reported on stone toolmaking in the Turkana Basin of Kenya that started about 2.75 million years ago at the new site of Namorotukunan, which contains one of the oldest and longest intervals of the making of Oldowan tools. This simple core-and-flake technology was, as revealed by this new evidence, nevertheless undertaken with enough skill—and the tools useful enough for various activities—to be made consistently for almost 300,000 years, through dramatic environmental changes, highlighting our ancestors’ resilience. However, not all ancient tools were made for practical purposes. In October, Francesco d’Errico and colleagues described three pieces of ochre, an iron-rich mineral pigment, from archaeological sites in Crimea, Ukraine. These artifacts were deliberately collected, shaped, engraved, polished, resharpened and deposited there by Neanderthals up to 70,000 years ago. Although it’s impossible to know what the Neanderthals did with these yellow and red pigments, the fact that they seemed to be kept sharpened suggests that their tips were used to produce linear marks. This suggests that they had a symbolic or artistic function, rather than a utilitarian one, perhaps playing a role in identity expression, communication and transmitting knowledge across generations.Neanderthal eating habitsWhen they weren’t busy coloring with paleo-crayons, our Neanderthal cousins are known for being skilled hunters of large animals, and two studies in July shed new light on their diets. First, Lutz Kindler and colleagues documented that 125,000 years ago, at the site of Neumark-Nord in Germany, Neanderthals processed at least 172 animals at the edge of a lake, most likely to extract bone grease. This “fat factory,” as the researchers called it, is much older than previously documented grease extraction sites, and this extreme bone-bashing behavior had not been seen before at Neanderthal sites. The team documented how Neanderthals transported the bones of these animals, mostly antelope, deer and horses, but even some forest elephants, to the site to crush, chop up and boil to get at the nutritious, calorie-rich fat inside. (Speaking of Neanderthals cooking things, a December study by Rob Davis, Nick Ashton and colleagues documented the earliest evidence of deliberate fire-making from the 400,000-year-old site of Barnham in England, where they found heated sediments, fire-cracked flint handaxes and fragments of iron pyrite—a mineral used to strike sparks with flint—likely brought to the site from far away.) Later in July, Melanie Beasley and colleagues made an intriguing suggestion about the Neanderthal diet. Humans and our earlier relatives can only eat a certain proportion of protein in our diets without getting protein poisoning, but chemical signatures (specifically, nitrogen isotope values) in Neanderthal bones indicate that they ate as much protein as other ancient hyper-carnivores. So, what was causing this? Maybe it was maggots, fat-rich fly larvae. When an animal dies, maggots feed on the decaying flesh, which has higher nitrogen values as it decomposes. Many Indigenous forager groups regard putrid meat as a tasty treat. If Neanderthals were eating nitrogen-enriched maggots feeding on rotting muscle tissue in dried, frozen or cached (deliberately stored) dead animals, that might at least partly explain their unusually high nitrogen values. While our later evolutionary cousins may have munched on maggots, a study in January by Tina Lüdecke and colleagues looked at carbon and nitrogen isotopes in the teeth of Australopithecus and other animal species dating back more than three million years ago from South Africa’s Sterkfontein site. The isotope ratios of the seven Australopithecus teeth were variable but consistently low, and more similar to the contemporaneous herbivores than the carnivores, suggesting they were not consuming much meat. This follows with other recent studies suggesting, contrary to common belief, that carnivory was not a major factor shaping our evolution.The earliest EuropeansTwo studies this year focused on early evidence for hominins in Europe. In January, Sabrina Curran and colleagues reported cut marks on several animal bones from the Graunceanu site in Romania, dating to at least 1.95 million years ago—now among the earliest evidence that hominins had spread to Eurasia by that time. To verify that these were cut marks made by stone tools, they compared 3D shape data from impressions of the marks to a reference set of almost 900 modern marks made by stone tool butchery, carnivore feeding and sedimentary abrasion. They concluded that the marks on eight Graunceanu fossils, mainly hoofed animals like deer, were stone tool cut marks. In March, Rosa Huguet and colleagues reported on the earliest hominin face fossil from Western Europe, dated to 1.4 million-1.1 million years ago, found in Spain. The shape of the left half of the face fossil is more similar to Homo erectus (which had not been documented in Europe), rather than resembling later and more modern looking Homo antecessor fossils found almost 1,000 feet away and dated to between 900,000-800,000 years ago. The scientific name of the new fossil is ATE7-1, but its nickname is “Pink.” This is a nod to Pink Floyd’s album The Dark Side of the Moon, which in Spanish is La cara oculta de la luna (cara oculta means hidden face). Also, Huguet’s first name, Rosa, is Spanish for pink.New Denisovan discoveries A reconstruction of the Harbin cranium by paleoartist John Gurche Courtesy of John Gurche Denisovan fossils have been found in Siberia and throughout East Asia, although they are few and far between. Denisovans may be our most enigmatic cousins, because we’ve learned more about them through DNA, including DNA we got from interbreeding with them, than from their fossils. Until this year, that is. A study from April described a new Denisovan mandible. Takumi Tsutaya and colleagues analyzed the Penghu 1 mandible, dredged up from the coast of Taiwan, and discovered that the morphology and protein sequences both matched it with Denisovans. Proteomics also allowed the team to determine this was a male individual, and this find expands the known range of Denisovans into warmer, wetter regions of Asia. Next, two stories from this summer took a second look at the Harbin cranium, termed “Dragon Man” and given the species name Homo longi in 2021. The first study, in June, looked at the proteome of the Harbin cranium, while the second study, in July, looked at the mitochondrial DNA; both studies were led by Qiaomei Fu. While no DNA was able to be retrieved from the fossil itself, proteomics and the DNA from dental calculus both suggested that this fossil was part of the Denisovan group. Together, these studies give the first look at the face of a Denisovan, lining up morphology with molecules. While more work needs to be done to build the body of evidence and give scientists a more complete view of Denisovan anatomy, habitat and behavior, being able to link complete fossils with the molecular evidence is a huge step forward. While it is unclear what this means for the name “Denisovan” itself, we hypothesize that it will persist as a popular or common name, much like how we call Homo neanderthalensis “Neanderthals” today. Lastly, in September, Xiaobo Feng and colleagues reconstructed and described the Yunxian 2 cranium from China, dating to one million years ago. The skull was meticulously reconstructed from crushed and warped fragments and appears to have a mix of primitive and derived traits, and it is also closely aligned with the Homo longi group. The phylogenetic analysis conducted by the team changes the perspective of late hominin divergence, with Homo longi and Homo sapiens being sister taxa to the exclusion of Neanderthals, and all three groups having evolutionary origins two to three times older than previously thought: at least 1.2 million years ago. While more finds will support or refute these phylogenetic claims, new fossil evidence continues to help refine our understanding of our lineage—and never stops surprising us.This story originally appeared in PLOS SciComm, a blog from PLOS, a nonprofit that publishes open-access scientific studies. Get the latest on what's happening At the Smithsonian in your inbox.

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