Part 1: Jane Goodall

Jane Goodall is an incredible woman. A force to be reckoned with. She has a rare tenacity and a fierce sense of personal responsibility for her impact on the planet. In her own words:

“What you do makes a difference, and you have to decide what kind of difference you want to make.”

This year, Think Inc. delivered an Australia wide tour in collaboration with the Jane Goodall Institute; a ‘fire side’ chat with the woman herself, fronted up by a casual talk from Jane. I attended the Melbourne event at the Plenary on June 16th, where Jane Goodall told of her childhood fascinations with animals, the unfolding of her dream to work with animals in Africa, and spoke on her now long history of global activism.

This is a woman who worked crappy secretarial and hospitality jobs to scrape together enough pennies for the boat ride from England, around the Cape of Africa, on to Nairobi. A woman who essentially pioneered the field of animal behavioural science, in spite of being badly ridiculed by much of the scientific community. And a passionate activist that admits she has not been in the same place for more than two or three consecutive weeks for some 30 years.

Jane Goodall’s personal story brings together true anthropological discovery, which is still unfolding today (see Part 3: First Humans)–but which had more of a wild west-type twang through the course of the C20th (see Part 2: The Leakey Legacy)–with pressing modern day issues: environmental degradation, overconsumption and human desperation in the developing world.

In writing this three-piece blog series I came to realise that, in truth, there is little I can say to elucidate Jane Goodall’s work, insight and ferocity that she does not immediately demonstrate herself. Just watch her.

 

 

To end on a moral note as Goodall did herself, the crux of Jane’s fear for the world seems to be this; in spite of the undeniable evidence for human-induced climate change, in spite of the devastating degradation of natural habitats carried out by our species, so many of us continue to do nothing. And as she emphasises, our time to make a difference is already on the clock.

“The greatest danger to our future is apathy,” she says.

Since attending Jane’s Think Inc. talk, I have started to realise how often the children and teenagers I meet through my education and science communication work have already adopted, at their fledgling age, a wholly hopeless outlook on our planets future.

I, myself, am wholeheartedly committed to realism but, as Jane clearly indicates herself, we need, absolutely, to remain optimistic. In fact, our future depends on it.

“You would be amazed at what inspired children can do.” – Goodall

 

Information on the Roots & Shoots program referred to at the end of this video can be found here, with some 23 schools participating in Victoria alone at the time of writing.

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Fungus suckers

The plant family Burmanniaceae is a long-standing botanical heartthrob (#Botanicalheartthrob) of mine. Ghost-like obligate parasites, bound by their evolutionary heritage to a strange existence amongst the fallen debris that litters a forest floor, the Burmaniaceae feed on fungus.

 

 

The condition of this odd plant variety is called mycoheterotrophism. It’s a parasitic relationship between certain plants and fungi, where the plant derives some, if not all, of it’s food by parasitising the fungus.

That’s right. Instead of feeding on sunlight like good old regular plants, mycoheterotrophs feed on fungus. Cheaters.

Amazingly, many of the Burmanniaceae have completely lost their ability to photosynthesise. They are achlorophyllous (pronounced ‘ay-cloro-fi-lus’), meaning they have no chlorophyll; the cellular centres for converting harvested sunlight into sugars that feed the plant.

No chlorophyll at all folks. That’s like being an animal without a stomach. Oh wait…

 

 

The habit of plants deriving nutrition from fungus has evolved several times independently, including in both monocots and eudicots, and is most prolifically represented in each clade amongst the Orchidaceae (orchids) and Ericaceae (e.g. Epacris impressa, the stunning floral emblem of Victoria). Similarly, it is likely that the extreme, obligate fungus-sucking habit–necessitated by a complete evolutionary loss of chlorophyll–has arisen several times independently within the Burmanniaceae family alone (Merckx et al. 2008). Burmanniaceae’s mycoheterotrophism is, therefore, considered an adaptation to deal with dank, dark, low light conditions that persist on the forest floor (Bidartondo et al. 2004).

Unaware of this diversity, and being the first fungus-sucking plants I had encountered, Burmaniaceae instantly captured my imagination. Too many zombie films, perhaps, but also a novel insight into the oddities of natural selection.

 

 

There is considerable conflicting information available on the number of genera and species within the family Burmanniaceae. Listings range from between seven and seventeen genera, and 95 to 159 species (see also Merckx et al. 2006). It is unclear whether this issue is due to conflicting opinions on synonymous species (where some botanists believe two differently named species constitute one and the same), synonymy of the families Burmanniaceae and Thismiaceae, or outdated information on a number of online databases and in the literature.

“…eking out what appears a rather diminished and utterly fragile existence for a traditionally photosynethic organism…”

According to the APG IV system (Angiosperm Phylogeny Group: APG IV 2016), a modern, mostly molecular-based system of classifying flowering plants, there are eight genera in the Burmanniaceae family, comprising some 96 species of fungus-sucking plants.

The biggest of these genera, Burmannia, includes roughly two thirds of these species, and is spread across tropical and subtropical parts of Africa, Oceania and the Western Hemisphere. The next largest genus is Gymnosiphon, comprising 24 species across the Old and New World tropics, but the remaining genera are far less speciated; Apteria (3 species, tropical and subtropical America), Dictyostega (1 species, Mexico and Brazil), Marthella (1 species, Trinidad), and four genera native to tropical S. America, including Campylosiphon (1 species), Cymbocarpa (2 species), Hexapterella (2 species) and Miersiella (1 species).

 

 

In Australia, Burmanniaceae is represented by just two native speciesBurmannia juncea (above left), native to Northern Australia (swampy areas, streamsides and wetlands), and Burmannia disticha, native to the east coast of NSW and QLD (swamps and wetlands in coastal regions). According to the Atlas of Living Australia, a community science database on the continent’s flora and fauna, the southeast Asian B. coelestis (Zhang & Saunders 2000) also occurs across far northern Australia.

Despite eking out what appears a rather diminished and utterly fragile existence for a traditionally photosynethic organism, these little creeps, at least in Australia, are considered not threatened and of least conservation concern.

Good job zombie herbs. Keep on keeping on.

 

References

Online references are linked to via in-text hyperlinks.

APG IV (2016) An update of the Angiosperm Phylogeny Group classification for the orders and families of flowering plants: APG IV. Botanical Journal of the Linnean Society 181 (1): 1–20. doi:10.1111/boj.12385.

Bidartondo M. I., Burghardt B., Gebauer G., Bruns T. D. & Read D. J. (2004) Changing partners in the dark: isotopic and molecular evidence of ectomycorrhizal liaisons between forest orchids and trees. Proceedings of the Royal Society of London B 271: 1799–1806.

Merckx V., Chatrou L., Lemaire B., Sainge M., Huysmans S. & Smets E. (2008) Diversification of myco-heterotrophic angio- sperms: evidence from Burmanniaceae. BMC Evolutionary Biology 8: 178.

Merckx V., Schols P., Kamer H. M.-V. D., Maas P., Huysmans S. & Smets E. (2006) Phylogeny and evolution of Burmanniaceae (Dioscoreales) based on nuclear and mitochondrial data. American Journal of Botany 93: 1684–1698.

Morton, J.B., Walker, C. (1984) Glomus diaphanum: A new species in the Endogonaceae common in West Virginia. Mycotaxon 21: 431-440.Zhang D. & Saunders R. M. K. (2000) Systematics of the Burmannia coelestis complex (Burmanniaceae). Nordic Journal of Botany 20: 385–394.

Images are presented unaltered from the original source and were: freely available under creative commons, or; were free for non-commercial sharing with appropriate attribution given (e.g. see here, but links to the originals are provided in each case, wherein the licensing particulars for each image can be found), or; were provided with direct permission from the author (Mac H. Alford Nodding-nixie photograph). Details of authorship can be found in each picture caption. 

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Pooter power !

 

 

Extra-happy happy snaps of the fossil conservation process.

Each photograph is captioned with a brief description of the technique featured, but for a romanticised description and more detail of the ‘how’s’ and ‘why’s’ see the rockdoc article Patients.

In the Formula 1 spirit

 

Pre-public robot fun enabled by public outreach and science engagement with VSSEC, late March this year. Our team of VSSEC educators made the most of our quiet morning time; before the onset of waves of school kids flushing through the Formula 1 Australian Grand Prix’s Innovation Precinct.

And later in the day, when the flood gates opened and the kids found their way to fun…

 

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