Some people don’t want to register their traditional knowledge

The ingratitude! Apparently villagers in the Uttar Kannada district of the Western Ghats in India have not been entirely truthful with the folks collecting information for the local Biodiversity Register. These registers have been promoted as a way of collecting local traditional knoweldge in order to protect against biopiracy and give local people some sort of intellectual property rights. But, like jealous cooks at a bake-off, some seem to withholding information.

“People have not given details of prescriptions, compositions and the methods used to cure ailments the traditional way using plants with medicinal properties. The information we have might be incomplete. In some cases, people have just mentioned plants but haven’t revealed how they use them for treatment.”

That’s according to G M Bhatt, president of the Biodiversity Management Committee of Heggarni. Villagers say they fear that they will lose control of their knowledge and their resources, even if it is “protected” in a biodiversity register.

They may have a point. According to the report, when it was discovered that a local plant, Malabar tamarind (Garcinia gummigutta), contained a compound that could “cure obesity” it was rapidly overharvested and is now in short supply. (That could well be true; the GEF Small Grants Programme funds a project on the conservation and domestication of G. gummigutta.)

What I wonder is, where did villagers ever get the idea that their local resources might be open to overexploitation?

Cacao and maize tell similar stories

Playing catch-up, I note from Cacaolab an article in the New York Times, saying that archaeologists reckon that people first used the pulp in cacao pods as the basis for a fermented beverage, only later figuring out that the seeds might be good to eat too. Cacaolab says this makes sense. I’ll take their word for it.

I like the idea of one thing leading to another because it gives weight to my favourite theory on the domestication of maize. All the evidence suggests that the original mutation that turned teosinte into maize happened only once. So how come somebody noticed it? Because people were cultivating teosinte. But why? They weren’t using the seeds, as far as we know. Hugh Iltis advanced the idea that people were growing teosinte as a source of sugar, chewing on the stalks rather like sugarcane. And they were also harvesting corn smut, Ustilago maydis, a fungus that grows on the seeds and that is known locally as huitlacoche (which, by the way, is absolutely delicious). So they had every reason to pay attention to teosinte’s miserable ears of grain, and to notice the changes that created maize.

Speaking of which … geneticists have recreated the rare events that gave rise to wheat, giving us synthetic wheat (incredibly useful for breeding) in the process. They know all about the mutations that make maize. But as far as I know they have not yet made synthetic maize. Why not?