Bees? We don’t need no stinkin’ bees

It’s obvious really. If you have a problem in a billion-dollar industry — almonds — because your workforce — bees — are dying like flies, what do you do? Forget the bees. Breed almonds that don’t need pollinators!

Which is exactly what breeders at the USDA are doing. Actually, self-pollinating almonds are apparently nothing new. There’s a Spanish variety, Tuono, ((Don’t Google it unless you’re a motorcycle freak.)) that “has been around for centuries”. But it doesn’t suit the almond industry of California. Even before Colony Collapse Disorder became a problem the USDA geneticists were busy using Tuono as the pollen parent in a series of crosses, because in addition to dispensing with bees it has other good properties. And now eight new, self-pollinating varieties have been evaluated. In time, they may replace the standard, bee-demanding variety Nonpareil, which apparently accounts for 37% of California’s almond trees. ((Down from 45%, according to an undated FAO document.))

Oh, and if you’re really into almonds, you probably already know about The Almond Doctor.

Measuring diversity in Tibetan walnuts

You collect leaves from 220 walnut trees of two morphologically very distinct species (Juglans regia and J. sigillata) from two unrelated groups of families of villagers in each of six different villages in Tibet. You get the gene-jockeys to do their microsatellite stuff on the leaves. You calculate the contribution of species, of the kin relationship of the growers and of village to genetic diversity. You expect the biggest genetic differences to be between species.

You are wrong.

Yes, the “species,” which look totally different, are in fact indistinguishable genetically. But there were significant differences among villages, and smaller but still significant differences between unrelated families of farmers within villages. So, you might be particularly interested in certain traits, for improvement say (and so are the farmers: walnut landraces in this part of Tibet are often named after fruit phenotypes). But — in this case — morphology is not a great guide to the totality of the underlying genetic diversity. So you can’t use it alone for conservation.

Which is also the conclusion researchers in Benin arrived at in their study of another tree, akee (Blighia sapida), also just out. A conservation and use (domestication, in this case) strategy “should target not only the morphotypes recognized by local populations but should also integrate the population genetics information.”

Does this amount to a general rule?