How to rescue a sunflower wild relative

A paper by Jennifer R. Ellis and David E. McCauley of Vanderbilt University, just out in Biological Conservation, tries to answer a couple of quite controversial questions for conservationists: ((Ellis, J., & McCauley, D. (2009). Phenotypic differentiation in fitness related traits between populations of an extremely rare sunflower: Conservation management of isolated populations. Biological Conservation. DOI: 10.1016/j.biocon.2009.03.029)) How do you prioritize populations for conservation? And when does genetic pollution become genetic rescue? Both answers depend on something most gene-jockeys don’t do much of: growing plants and seeing how they perform.

To add piquancy, the paper deals with a crop wild relative, and a very rare one at that: Helianthus verticillatus, which is known from only four sites in the southeastern United States. The authors worked on populations from two of these, in Tennessee (fewer than 100 individuals) and Alabama (several hundred individuals). They collected seeds from sixteen of what they had previously identified as genetically distinct individuals from each population, and then made a whole bunch of crosses, both within populations and also between the two populations, for two generations. They grew the progeny of these crosses in the same environment and measured how well they did in terms of fruit viability, germination, survival and pollen quality.

So, first, to the prioritization question. Genetic markers are now routinely used to identify populations that are particularly low in diversity and thus in need of immediate in situ protection or collecting for ex situ conservation. Often, genetic diversity is positively correlated with fitness, but this is not always the case. For H. verticillatus, in fact, it was known from previous marker studies that the two populations had comparable levels of genetic diversity and only moderate genetic differentiation. However, the results of the common environment study on the offspring of the intra-population crosses showed that they different significantly in their overall “fitness,” with the Tennessee material having lower germination rates and fruit viability. In other words, molecular markers on their own would not have raised a particular concern about the long-term viability of the Tennessee population. In the words of the authors, “contrary to genetic marker information, these populations are not interchangeable with regard to quantitative fitness characters.”

Next, the genetic rescue question. The conventional wisdom of course is that conservation should strive to maintain the genetic integrity of populations. Bringing in material from elsewhere constitutes genetic pollution and is BAD. The introduction of new genetic material into relatively homogeneous populations with low fitness can of course result in heterosis and increased fitness. But it can also lead to lower fitness — inoutbreeding depression — “owing to the dilution of local adaptations or disruption of co-adapted gene combinations.” Enter the inter-population crosses. Crossing Tennessee individuals with those from Alabama resulted in offspring that were more fit, with no sign of outbreeding depression, at least for the two generations of the study. This “offers great promise” as an active conservation strategy for the Tennessee population, the authors say.

Given people’s sqeamishness about messing around with rare species, I wonder if such activism will be given a chance.

Nibbles: Sheep, Yams, Satellites, Payment for ecosystem services, Museum

Language and the spread of agriculture

Whatever you think about the link between the spread of languages and that of farming — and the correspondence between the two postulated by Bellwood is controversial — there is no denying the similarities between a map of language diversity in a recent paper

languages
and that of the places where agriculture originated.

origin
At least in Africa, Near East and New Guinea. The dissimilarities, in particular in South and East Asia, are just as striking.

In praise of Granny Smith

Our regular readers ((And indeed Danny’s at Rurality.)) will know that there’s been a regular deluge — windfall? — of apple stories in the past few months, in particular about the imminent demise of the British orchard. The latest surfaced today. In such stories, aspersions are often cast on the qualities of such commercial favourites as the Granny Smith. ((Thanks to Dr Nelson for getting me onto this kick today, and also for a nice website about apples.)) I guess the unspoken implication is that this and similarly successful varieties are the evil spawn of some sinister multinational, and probably contain, to boot, genes cruelly extracted from some Arctic fish without its prior or informed consent and unnaturally inserted into the pristine apple genome by soulless pointy-headed boffins with Nazi sympathies.

Nothing could be further from the truth, it turns out, at least in the case of the Granny Smith, which was, in fact, spotted as a seedling and first grown by Maria Ann Smith on her farm in Ryde, New South Wales around 1868. ((As a short article in FreshPlaza alerted me, also today.)) It started life as the kind of backyard variety that would later become known as a heirloom. So, I ask myself, what obscure pome, currently languishing in some forgotten British orchard, soon to be rescued by the imminent influx of National Trust money, will eventually knock old Granny from her pedestal? And when will we be complaining about that one?

A little little barley goes a long way

Like I say, not a day goes by. Yesterday, ramie. Today, little barley. As in:

They likely ate sunflower, marsh elder, two types of chenopod—a family that includes spinach and beets—and possibly squash and little barley, according to the findings. The people also grew bottle gourd to make into containers.

That would be the Riverton people living three thousand years ago along the Wabash River in present-day Illinois.

The Riverton crops may have “added to what was [already] a successful life” for the ancient Americans, said Brian Redmond, curator and head of archaeology at the Cleveland Museum of Natural History in Ohio.

Yes, because…

…[b]efore they began farming, the Riverton people lived among bountiful river valleys and lakes, apparently eating a healthy and diverse diet of nuts, white-tailed deer, fish, and shellfish, the study says.

So the Riverton people were not reacting to some environmental stress as a matter of survival when they became agriculturalists, but rather “engaging in a bit of gastronomic innovation.” Good for them.