Blogging the big birthday: Darwin’s last hurrah

Jacob van Etten’s contribution to the birthday celebrations…

“Darwin must die,” writes Carl Safina on the occasion of the man’s 200th birthday. Darwin shouldn’t take it personally. Safina means to say that Darwinism stands in the way of fully appreciating the value of modern biology.

“Darwinism” implies an ideology adhering to one man’s dictates, like Marxism. Charles Darwin didn’t invent a belief system. He had an idea, not an ideology. Our understanding of how life works since Darwin won’t swim in the public pool of ideas until we kill the cult of Darwinism.

I agree. And there is more.

Darwin’s biographer, Janet Browne, illuminates another aspect of Darwinian science. ((Janet Browne. 2002. Charles Darwin. The Power of Place. pp. 11-12.)) Darwin collected much of his data by writing letters, many letters. He requested information from all kinds of people, fellow naturalists, but also farmers, breeders, civil servants and army officers. Some 14,000 of the letters Darwin wrote or received have been stored in libraries, and many more may have been lost. What Browne describes is something that verges on systematic exploitation.

The flow of information [Darwin] initiated was almost always one-way. Darwin regarded his correspondence primarily as a supply system, designed to answer his own wants. There was no doubt the legitimacy of this one-way arrangement. After all, he occupied an assured place in the intellectual elite, at the heart of an expanding scientific and social meritocracy that in turn lay at the hub of one of the most powerful and systematically organised empires known to history.

Darwin’s 200th birthday is a good occasion not only to do away with Darwin, but also with the whole idea of Big Man science. So, kill Darwin, and Vavilov, too. Make science a collaborative, reciprocal learning effort. Welcome Science 2.0. Each farm is an evolutionary biology lab. Everybody is a scientist.

Carciofo alla Etrusca?

Last Sunday’s outing to Cerveteri and its Etruscan necropolis included a visit to the town’s small museum. Where we saw the following terracotta figurine:
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The piece wasn’t labeled, and I had to take the photograph at a weird angle through glass, so the quality is not great. But that looks like an artichoke to me, or maybe a cardoon. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to find much on the internet about the Etruscans and the artichoke, but they definitely had it. And it is still a big crop in the region. But I’m just not entirely certain. What do you think?

Agrobiodiversity everywhere, if you look

My weekend reading included two pieces that I felt sure would prove well written and engaging, but which I frankly did not think would yield much in the way of agrobiodiversity fodder. Turns out I was wrong, at least on the latter point.

Felipe Fernandez-Armesto’s review of the Encyclopedia of Exploration 1850 to 1940 by Raymond John Howgego is indeed a model of its type: informative, stimulating and charming. It also includes a reference to the late nineteenth-century Swiss ethnobotanist of Paraguay Moisés Bertoni, who described Stevia rebaudiana, a controversial sugar substitute. And another to the Société Impériale Zoologique d’Acclimatation, which had a famous birthday boy as a loyal member in its early days. ((It’s now the Société nationale de protection de la nature.)) A Colonel Henry Wayne apparently won the society’s gold medal for his efforts to introduce camels to the US.

The second piece that intrigued me over the weekend was an article by Matt Jenkins in the Smithsonian Magazine about the elite pilots who guide ships through the treacherous, sand-barred mouth of the Columbia River in Oregon. What’s the agrobiodiversity angle? Well, Portland and other upriver ports are the the main gateway in the US for its wheat and barley exports. The river pilots can shut down the entrance to the river if conditions are too bad, but, to quote one of them:

“When we shut down the bar for two days, trains are backed up all the way into the Midwest. And just like a traffic jam on the freeway, once you clear the wreck, it takes a long time for it to smooth out again.”

It’s a great image. The world’s interdependence for agricultural products ((And coincidentally I came across a great graphical representation of that yesterday, thanks to blogging machine Tom Barnett.)) resting on the judgement of a dozen or so salty sea dogs in the Pacific Northwest.