Iraq resents American drones that monitor outside the U.S. embassy in Baghdad. Iran is delighted to capture a high-tech U.S. drone. And the United States plans more drone purchases even amid slowing growth of the military budget.

As remote-control airplanes get cheaper and better, drones seem to be everywhere:

And it turns out that drones are ideal for watching wildlife: rabbits, sea lions, gulls and a range of elusive or inaccessible species.

Counting the mini-bunnies

Researchers in Idaho have used drones to track the pygmy rabbit, a hand-size mammal that eats sagebrush. The rabbit, a “species of concern” in Idaho, is already extinct in neighboring Washington State.

Pygmy rabbits are reclusive, spending much of their time inside burrows, says Jennifer Forbey, an assistant professor of biology at Boise State University. Forbey, along with Janet Rachlow at the University of Idaho, the U.S. Geological Survey, and Washington State University, is using used military drones called Ravens to explore how habitat factors like cover, forage quality and temperature affect rabbit populations.

The Ravens are small, and able to carry only one of these instruments at a time:

The drone can cover the entire two-kilometer square site in about three hours, but its gadgetry sees neither rabbits nor their burrows. Because the drone noise would scare the rabbits back into their burrows, the plane does not work when the bunnies are likely to be active.

To find the animals, Forbey says, “We have to walk for days and days, to identify where the rabbits are. We hike around, looking for fresh fecal pellets, fresh digging, fresh clipping on plants.”

But the data on forage quality, combined with tried-and true shoe-leather counting, shows that the rabbits are discriminating eaters. “They are specialized to sagebrush, but not all [sagebrush] plants are created equal, some types are more palatable, and also provide better cover for them,” Forbey says.

It’s possible that in winter drones could get a better picture of rabbit activity by looking for tracks in the snow.

To actually see rabbits from the air without frightening them, Forbey suggests a back-to-the-future approach — perhaps lighter than air craft.

“We are trying to develop some other platforms, maybe blimps, that could stay static over burrows to get infra-red video of rabbits without making noise.”

Although airborne surveys have begun, they are a help but not a panacea, says Forbey. “Not much is known about pygmy rabbits. They are cryptic. You have to spend the time walking the habitat.”

Gulls in Spain

Black-headed gulls nest in large colonies, and like many colonial birds, monitoring from the ground is difficult, and viewing from conventional aircraft can be expensive and confusing.

Pick up a battery-powered, radio-controlled model airplane, and the picture changes, says Francesc Sarda, at the Center for Forestry Technology of Catalunya, in Spain. When the drone flies over at an altitude of 30 to 40 meters, “The gulls hear it, but they don’t identify it as predator, don’t know what kind of element it is, and so they do not care about it.”

In a 2010 study,¹ Sarda equipped the plane with a still camera, pointing straight down. A video camera in the “cockpit” broadcast a live feed to a laptop on the ground, where the “pilot” operated controls.

The plane is “easy to fly, many people do it for hobby,” says Sarda, and it’s affordable — at just 1,400 Euros for the plane and the equipment. Depending on wind, the plane can stay aloft for 15 to 20 minutes, but batteries are cheap, and easily replaced before the next flight.

Water birds often nest in dense colonies, and can be difficult to study. Those that nest on cliffs can be observed from the side. On flat land, wildlife biologists may have to walk through the colony, but “If there are thousands of birds, it’s very difficult to count,” Sarda says.

Encounters with human counters can also annoy the birds, he adds. “In our case, they will fly away, even if there are chicks or eggs on the nest. You have to be very careful.”

The drone sidesteps this problem, he says. “You can do your count, and repeat your sampling” after a week or a month, to assess changes.

Laws about low-level flight are much less stringent in Spain than in the United States, Sarda says, and the system is “very cheap, compared with manned aircraft. You can use it yourself, whenever you want.”

See the sea lion

Sea lions and the fishing industry are squaring off in the Gulf of Alaska, where a rapid population decline of Stellar sea lions has been blamed on a scarcity of the fish they eat. But studying these fearsome and elusive creatures is difficult and data are sketchy, says Greg Walker, who manages the unmanned aircraft program at the University of Alaska. “The sea lion is an endangered species, and it’s affecting the fishery, but the science behind it is pretty spotty. The sea lions that have been monitored are healthy, not starving.”

Fishing restrictions are costly to the industry, and Walker observes that boats are catching more fish in the same amount of time, which suggests no scarcity of prey. “Their technology is no better than it was five years ago, and if they are catching more fish, maybe there are more fish” in the Gulf, he says.

Currently, sea lions are counted by looking at “haulouts,” rocky locations along the shore where these mammals mate and give birth, but the Aleutian Islands are hardly an ideal place to fly, Walker says. Airports can be hundreds of miles apart, and weather predictions cannot accurately say if clouds will block the view, wasting time and money.

Last June, Walker and his colleagues launched a drone from a fishing boat standing offshore. After a 12-mile flight, the drone flew over the colony, without causing obvious disturbance, and obtained video and photos clearly showing the sea lions.

Ironically, the same restrictions on fishing that were enacted to protect the sea lion have made fishing boats scarce. “We started working with a fishing cooperative; would fly off their boat while they were fishing, since they were going to be in the area anyway,” says Walker. “But closing the fishery has meant fewer fishing boats in the area,” and the lack of convenient launch pads could raise the price of drone-based monitoring.

If cost can be contained, larger surveys are possible, Walker says. “We will try to survey more of the island coastline, not just the historic haulouts. We want to know, is this a real population decline, or are they just in another part of the habitat? If you are always looking at the same street address, when someone moves down the street,” you may think they are dead, he notes. “Maybe a more consistent survey would find more of the sea lions.”

Eventually, if he can round up a bigger drone, Walker would like to use synthetic aperture radar, which can see through clouds, and could sidestep, finally, the cloud problem. But he also hopes the drones can fly at 500 feet, beneath many clouds. Flying that low is dangerous for manned aircraft, but that concern does not apply to disposable drones.

Having proved the concept of drone-powered surveillance of the sea lions, Walker and associates are planning to begin a three-week campaign in March.

Stop us from droning on!

Drones have a broad range of advantages compared to other ways of studying the environment. We’ve already mentioned how they can get access to awkward locations without bugging the animals.

Flying low and slow, drones can also identify and measure invasive weeds or many other types of ecological dislocation.

H. Franklin Percival, program leader for unmanned airplane research at the University of Florida, says safety is a critical motivation for using drones. “Low-level manned aircraft is the leading cause of workplace mortality for wildlife biologists. Wildlife biologists do this kind of thing all the time, studying salmon nesting, alligators in Florida, seals in Alaska, there’s a lot of low-level stuff.”

In 2010, a pilot and two biologists died in a helicopter crash while studying salmon nesting on the Selway River in Idaho. “That drives the interest [in drones] now,” says Percival. Before nesting, salmon fan away sand and gravel on the river bottom, “and we can see these from the air.”

FAA blues

In the United States, a major limitation on scientific use of drones comes from the Federal Aviation Administration, which is, rightly, worried about collisions between piloted planes and drones. Currently, the FAA requires that the pilot or a spotter be a licensed pilot, and limits a drone’s range and altitude to avoid danger. Those restrictions raise both the cost and bureaucratic rigmarole, and ecologists and the unmanned airplane industry are hoping for a change.

On Feb. 6, the Senate sent legislation to the President requiring FAA action on the issue within three years, USA Today reports.

If the concern is safety, new, more relaxed standards seem most appropriate to drones that fly short distances at low altitude.

If the FAA redrafts regulations to maintain safety while allowing more civilian use of drones, Forbey of Boise State expects ecologists to be lining up for unmanned aircraft. “This integration of technology with ecology and conservation is really exciting. I think what these planes provide is a spatial level that you can’t get from satellite, and can’t get from being on the ground. Both in terms of the area they can cover, and the type of data they offer, they fill a gap.”

Let a thousand drones bloom

Robot planes and the associated technology of cameras, communications and GPS-based recording of location are moving ahead even as the FAA promulgates regulations. At the University of Florida, Percival, who has directed the development of five generations of a robot plane called Nova, says drones should be designed according to the scientific goal. “What are the data required? Can it deliver that kind of data, and can you do the appropriate statistics to give reliable information? The airplane should be built around your question.”

As drones with ever more sophisticated sensors return a growing quantity of data, Percival favors automating data-processing to spit out reliable data that can be manipulated statistically. “To estimate the number of nesting birds in a pelican colony, we want to differentiate the components in the imagery with a computer as opposed to some guy’s eyeballs.”

Photos show a lot, but they do not automatically reflect reality, Percival says. “Just because we can see well does not mean the numbers are as precise, as accurate, as we’d like.”

2010 marked the completion of a bizarre telescope composed mainly of ancient ice. One billion tons of ice.

Buried a mile deep in the ice at the South Pole, IceCube is the world’s strangest telescope. Composed of water, it’s looking for the neutrino, nature’s most unusual particle. Eighty years after the neutrino was “invented” to balance a physics equation, it remains ultra-difficult to detect, measure and understand.

IceCube is focused mainly on particles that come all the way through the Earth. In other words, this telescope looks down.

Scientists say neutrinos can pass unscathed through a long bar of lead. How long? Say, one light year long — about 10 trillion kilometers. Because neutrinos can slip through everything in their path, including stars, galaxies and vast clouds of dust, they are unrivaled tattle-tales of ancient explosions in the deep universe.

The bad news is that the same property makes neutrinos extremely difficult to see.

But if you can somehow observe the neutrino’s insanely rare interaction with matter, you could learn something about the universe, and the gargantuan energy released by exploding stars.

Roots of a frozen telescope

That is the promise and the premise of IceCube, a $271-million project intended to solve a problem posed in 1930, when physicist Wolfgang Pauli proposed a new and rather odd particle. Tiny, energetic, with no electric charge and not necessarily any mass, it would be virtually undetectable.

Pauli himself admitted “I have done a terrible thing. I have postulated a particle that cannot be detected.”¹

The “now-you-don’t-see-it-and-you-never-will” neutrino was tailor-made for controversy; scientists detest what they can’t detect. Pauli’s idea was mocked² as “simply wrong” or “crazy.”

Today, scientists are sure nature is full of these shadowy characters: Rough calculations say a hundred trillion neutrinos whistle through your body every second.

Why make a big deal about neutrinos, which are, after all, less offensive than campaign ads? Because that ability to pass through all manner of interstellar crud allows neutrinos to carry messages from the far reaches of the universe.

Moreover, some neutrinos carry more punch than the wildest gamma ray. And just as you can’t pull a hot coal from a cold fire, you shouldn’t get “hot” neutrinos from “cool” sources like ordinary stars. These neutrinos, in other words, may deliver signals of some hip, blazingly hot stuff — neutron stars, active galactic centers, and exploding stars.

Finally, according to some scenarios, lower-energy neutrinos may comprise a small proportion of the mass — the stuff — of the universe, but they played a key role in the evolution of the universe.

In astronomy, as in love and antiques, “hard-to-get” translates into “most-wanted.” “The hope is that the particle that is almost nothing will tell us almost everything about the universe,” says Francis Halzen, a theoretical physicist at University of Wisconsin-Madison. Halzen directs IceCube, and did the same at IceCube’s predecessor, AMANDA, the Antarctic Muon and Neutrino Detector Array.

Search strategy for an elusive character

Neutrinos may be shy, but once in a great while, they actually hit an atom and produce a subatomic particle called a muon, which is easier to see.

Because the odds of a neutrino hitting anything are so dismal, physicists require bigger targets. It’s the same principle that lottery players use to “beat” the tiny odds of winning by buying hundreds of tickets.

Previous neutrino targets have included tubs of oil or dry-cleaning fluid and 5,000 tons of steel plates salvaged from battleships. To block spurious signals due to cosmic rays rather than neutrinos, these detectors have been sunk in the ocean or placed inside deep mines.

IceCube relies on a two-step detection sequence: First, the tiny percentage of neutrinos that interact with atomic nuclei in the ice produce muons. Second, these muons create Cherenkov light when they interact with matter.

When the detectors see Cherenkov light, they digitize the data and send it through electric cables to the surface for analysis. The detectors are housed inside 5,160 crush-proof glass spheres placed in holes drilled through the ice, and located 1450 to 2450 meters deep.

Another 324 detectors at the surface detect muons made by cosmic rays arriving from the Southern sky.

The Antarctic ice also has little radiation, and the detectors are so deep that air bubbles have been squeezed out, ensuring great optical clarity. Yet while the detectors are shielded from damage, they are under crushing pressure, and if they go bad, they will be busted forever.

IceCube will only look at muons that trigger at least eight detectors, says Halzen, and is most interested in muons moving upward — coming from the Northern Hemisphere. Downward signals can be confusing, as most of them are due to cosmic rays or lower-energy neutrinos, which Earth blocks.

Data from IceCube should suggest where the neutrinos originated and what sort of cosmic engine started them on their journey.

This desire to concentrate on neutrinos rather than cosmic rays explains why this frozen telescope, oddly but logically, looks downward.

What can these neutrinos tell us?

Neutrinos, “invented” to balance a physics equation, have grown to fascinate astrophysicists, galactic voyeurs seeking signals from astonishingly energetic structures and events in the deep universe. The direction and energy of neutrinos from each source should offer clues about the origin:

Image: NASA/JPL-Caltech/STScI/CXC/SAO

Located 10,000 light-years away in the constellation Cassiopeia, Cassiopeia A is the remnant of a massive star that died in a violent supernova 325 years ago. The dead star (turquoise dot in center) became a neutron star surrounded by a shell of junk blasted away in the explosion. Image is a composite from three orbital telescopes: Infrared data from the Spitzer Space Telescope is red; Visible light from the Hubble Space Telescope is yellow; Chandra X-ray Observatory data is green and blue.

Although supernova neutrinos have low energy and are hard to detect, a nearby supernova could light up IceCube enough to overwhelm the system. To prep for a supernova, Reina Maruyama, an assistant professor of physics at University of Wisconsin-Madison, is working to ensure that IceCube can handle this once-in-a-lifetime chance to get good data on a stellar explosion.

If something like the 1987 supernova exploded nearby in our galaxy, Maruyama says, “there would be so many neutrinos, the whole ice would glow. We expect that a few supernovas will occur each century in the galaxy, if one goes off, IceCube has to be ready. We stand to learn a whole lot about how they explode, and about the particle nature of neutrinos.”

Dark matters

Even weirder than neutrinos, IceCube may explore dark matter, a type of, well, something, that comprises 23 percent of the overall universe. A measly 4 percent of matter, including the galaxies, stars and planets, is visible. The balance is an even stranger quantity called dark energy.

The first inkling that some matter is invisible came in the 1930s, when a physicist noticed that galaxies rotate too fast: their visible mass would create too little gravity, and thus they should spin themselves into oblivion.

The explanation for that increased gravity is now called dark matter, and the race is on to detect it.

Since dark matter affects gravity, Maruyama says it must gather in the sun and the galaxies. When dark matter particles collide, they are expected to release a type of neutrino called muon neutrinos. But IceCube found no muon neutrinos coming from the sun and the Milky Way, using a technique that was 1,000 times more sensitive than previous ones.

Does absence make the heart grow fonder?

It depends on your perspective whether that’s good or bad, says Halzen. “There was a big celebration when we published, because we placed limits on that particular type of dark matter, but I looked at it another way: We had gone 1,000 times deeper, and it was very disappointing not to see dark matter.”

However, an experiment in Italy may have seen dark matter interacting with a hunk of sodium iodide, based on an annual variation in the signal. If Earth indeed orbits through a cloud of dark matter, the detector would register alternating downstream and upstream motions that could account for that annual cycle.

The cycle could, however, be due to something unrelated to dark matter.

To answer that riddle, Maruyama wants to place a similar detector deep in the Antarctic ice, and has already piggybacked two prototypes onto IceCube strings. The prototypes are working well enough to justify a larger, more expensive detector, Maruyama says.

If and when the experiment is replicated in Antarctic Ice, Maruyama says, “A positive result would be interesting, and a negative result would be interesting. If we can see a signal with the same timing, that confirms the [Italian] results. If we don’t see a signal, the source must be something aside from dark matter.”

Lurking behind the IceCube project is the tantalizing prospect of learning more about the bizarre particle it detects — the neutrino. We already know that neutrinos have a tiny amount of mass, and that they range in energy through at least 30 orders of magnitude — an unimaginable range of energies. There have been recent — and controversial — reports that neutrinos can travel faster than light — breaking a basic law of physics.

Why so weird?

That’s another indication that neutrinos exist at the edge of the standard model that attempts to explain everything by gravity, electromagnetism, and two nuclear forces, Halzen says. “We are measuring the properties of neutrinos any way we can, and extrapolating to see what the standard model predicts, and looking for variations. The simple way to describe the experiment is that we collect muons and neutrinos, and everything you don’t understand is a discovery, either it’s physics beyond the standard model, or it’s new astrophysics.”

Halzen anticipates spotting an extremely high-energy particle called the GZK neutrino. “These are predicted by theory, and if one hits the detector, we won’t have to do any analysis, we will be able to look at the event display and know that we have made the discovery.” GZK neutrinos are, according to theory, made by cosmic rays that strike photons in the microwave background, Halzen says, and thus could finally reveal the origin of the cosmic rays, one century after their discovery.

Neutrinos are slippery characters; shy, coming in incomprehensible numbers, being emitted by sources we cannot pinpoint. Maruyama notes that neutrinos seemingly change to a different “flavor” without any apparent cause, and says this “oscillation” from one state to another is the strangest part of the neutrino story. “Oscillation could have implications on how the universe evolved to have matter, and not anti-matter,” she says. “These tiny particles could have such an influence on the universe.”

So what?

Why should non-scientists worry about neutrinos? Halzen, who has answered this question many times, says “I have a personal answer. The reason we know our place in the universe is not because of French philosophers, it’s because of physicists. With dark matter and dark energy, we know most of the universe is not made of the same material we are made of. … Is that important to know? I think so.”

IceCube is not intended to produce technology or solve today’s problems, Halzen acknowledges. “This is total curiosity-driven science, and you are allowed not to care. But if you don’t do fundamental research, we’re going to be a developing country, that is clear.”

Particle physics proves that theoretical pursuits can have results that are unpredictable, yet practical and profitable, Halzen says. “My previous job was at CERN [the European particle-physics lab], where people discovered the Web in 1989, to enable collaboration among remote scientists. I think we have paid for all theoretical physics with that one discovery.”

Robots are great at what they do — if the job is dull and predictable. Throw in the unexpected, and robots can do the unpredictable.

The task of programming a robot’s brain for the real world can be gnarly, says Josh Bongard, an assistant professor in the University of Vermont College of Engineering and Mathematical Sciences. “It turns out that building a robot, and programming it to do something interesting is a very non-intuitive process, and it’s a difficult one for humans to do well.”

The real world, he says, “is quite messy.”

Robots, in the jargon, need “adaptive behavior” to accommodate changing circumstances, says Bongard. When programming a free-roaming robot, “We are not likely to factor in a lighting change or people moving in and out of the field of view.”

It’s not clear how animals or people make adaptations, Bongard says, “and so it’s difficult to program a robot to do them.”

Robots: Are they alive?

Bongard, like a number of roboticists, is turning to biology for answers. But he does not want to emulate living structures. Instead, he wants to use evolution to craft robot control.

The process is akin to the “artificial selection” that helped lay the foundation for the science of evolution. Darwin, after all, wrote about how animal breeders had changed their livestock by repeatedly breeding the best animals and eating the rest.

In January, 2011, Bongard reported that he had taught four-legged, digital robots to stand and run toward a light source, by grading their control software on its ability to meet those goals.

Adaptive behavior was necessary, he says, because the light source could appear anywhere, or even take evasive action, “so the robot can’t just move its legs blindly every time.”

The robots had five seconds to do or die, and their first movements were grotesque because the control software initially moved their body parts at random. After every attempt, the control programs were graded by their ability to walk, stay upright and approach the light.

It’s brutal. More than 100 million failed programs went to the virtual graveyard in the name of science, Bongard says. The programs that showed some promise were retained, randomly varied and re-tested.

The same process is found in nature, where successful genes that face random mutation are re-tested by tomorrow’s environment.

Like the average biological mutation, the mutated robot software usually failed. But over a year of supercomputer time — equivalent to 1,000 years on a desktop computer — the winning programs evolved the ability to walk toward the light.

Weird winners

Considering the amount of trial and error, that was a satisfying but not necessarily surprising result. But here’s something to chew on. Bongard found that robots “born” with four legs had a handicap. During repeated simulations, the robots that started as snakes and developed legs during the five-second experiment were much quicker to learn the task.

You might guess — we would have — that the quick learning would have occurred in robots with full-time four-leg drive, given their longer experience with legged locomotion, but Bongard says the leg-free starters benefited by chunking the challenge: a) learn to approach the light, and b) learn to walk.

These robots “could evolve the ability to go from point A to point B while they still look like a snake, they don’t have to worry about balance, because they are already on the ground,” Bongard says. “Once evolution has figured out how to move toward the light, the ability to move on four legs could evolve.”

Meanwhile, the four-legged counterparts may still be flipping, flopping and floundering (Note to self: sell soul as political hit-man if science-writing gig crash-burns?) “The robots that had to stand upright would fall over, and it took evolution a long time to master balance,” Bongard says.

The approach — take the winners and vary them for a retest — resembles directed chemical evolution, which aims to create a better antibiotic by modifying and retesting molecules that show some ability to kill bacteria. “It’s basically the same idea,” says Bongard, “but instead of a candidate drug, we have virtual robots, and instead of selecting for … resistance to disease, they are selected for the ability to get to the light.”

Robots resemble rodents?

As a final exam for the digital robots, Bongard tested their balance with a blast of air. Although the leg-less robots “had evolved into legged robots that looked exactly like the other species, they were better able to run around under simulated windy conditions,” Bongard reports.

Bongard is first to acknowledge that he is “stealing from biology to help us build better robots,” but says, “the more interesting question is what this tells us about biological evolution. This recent work suggests that robots that change their bodies gain an adaptive advantage … and you see the same radical changes in body plan in nature: in insects, reptiles and in humans as they develop from infant to adult.”

If you’ve hung around a big-city park, you may think that pigeons are countless — or uncountable. But according to scientists from New Zealand, pigeons now join the short list of animals that can count — or at least, can places images containing two countable items in numerical order.

It’s blue news for those who think only humans deserve human capacities. From empathy and altruism to murder and war, animals seem to have caught on to some of our best — and worst — tricks.

Now Damian Scarf, a post-doctoral researcher at the University of Otago, with his colleagues, has taught three pigeons to order pairs of numbers in the range from one through nine.

This is not exactly counting, but it certainly is a sign of numerical awareness in birds.

More important, the researchers have taught these retired racing pigeons the concept of smaller-to-larger, Scarf says. “Previously, this number abstraction was only known in primates, and now we have shown that it is not unique to primates.”

Serious screen-time serves science

The experiment began with a year-long training period, during which the birds were shown pairs of images, each containing one, two or three countable items. If the birds pecked at both images, smaller number first, they were rewarded with some wheat. (Although the images never contained a numeral, we refer to the “number” they contain for brevity.)

To prevent the birds from focusing on color, shape or other non-numerical details, the images showed a range of items, so that the only correct answer would reflect their number rather than other distinctions.

“The training time reflects how difficult it is for them to abstract,” Scarf says. “It’s such a foreign situation, number is not the first port of call when presented with a stimulus to discriminate. That’s why we had so many shapes, colors, surface areas.”

Even if the birds originally made their judgments based on color, “we pushed them to use a different strategy, to break away from that. Number is not the default discrimination mechanism” for pigeons, says Scarf, who worked under advisor Michael Colombo of Otago.

A genius for abstraction?

This does not mean that the birds are counting, says Scarf. “It’s more a fuzzy representation in the brain of what ‘three’ is. We can apply this verbal label to three, but they cannot. Pigeons, and animals in general, don’t have a definite idea of a number, that’s why they don’t perform perfectly, and why we see the distance effect.”

When the numbers on the test pair are further apart, Scarf found, “the fuzziness overlaps a little less.”

A greater distance between the numbers produced a quicker response and greater accuracy. For adjacent numbers, like four and five, the birds scored about 66 percent accuracy, compared to more than 95 percent for numbers separated by at least six. Once the difference rose to at least three, the pigeons did as well as monkeys in a path-breaking 1998 study that opened the field of numerical “thinking” in animals.

Scarf stresses that the birds were not just regurgitating what they had learned, but were learning numerical rules. “The goal was to find out whether they could acquire an abstract rule. We were just training for one through three, but they learned some flexibility, an abstract, ascending rule for ordering numbers” that would apply to other numbers on the screen.

Rooted in evolution, but where?

Being able to recognize that one thing is more numerous than another could help an animal survive, Scarf says. “When food is available in multiple places, an animal has to develop an optimal strategy for figuring out where the most food is, and I think we have subverted that capacity for this task.”

Where this capacity arose is anybody’s guess at this point. The evolutionary lineage of mammals and birds divided about 300 million year ago, Scarf says. “If this derived from a common ancestor, it’s very old. It’s also possible that primates and birds have evolved this independently.”

“I do think it’s important, just as our study of mirror self-recognition in monkeys, from the fundamental standpoint of how these abilities come about,” says Luis Populin, a professor of anatomy at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, who has found that, under certain conditions, monkeys can recognize themselves in a mirror. “It’s very nice and is yet another step toward understanding how our cognitive functions develop.”

You have to hand it to these birds, which have set a new standard for avian aptitude. “The new part is the idea that this abstraction of numbers is not tied to training,” says Scarf. “Most numerical tests with animals involve training and testing with the same numbers, but we were training with a limited set of numbers and testing them with numbers outside the range. They learned an abstract rule, and that’s what makes this study unique.”

Interested in waterfront property in Southern California? A new study of a continental schism running east of Los Angeles offers a clear “buy” signal for the long-term investor: The North American continent is splitting apart along a rift, and if you got the patience, we have the real-estate-appreciation potential!

In just a few million years, as the North American continent sunders in a weak zone called the Salton Trough, the Gulf of California will stretch further north.

On our unstable Earth, not even the continents are rock solid. Instead, they shift around like blocks of sea ice that join, fissure and separate once again — over millions of years.

Geologists know the process is occurring in the Southern California desert, and we’ve just read a sophisticated analysis that finds an ominous thinning of the strong crustal layer in the Salton Trough.

Ominous, that is, unless you are planning a waterfront resort here, with a grand opening in, say, 2,002,011.

The study helps to fill a gap in our understanding of the earth, says first author Vedran Lekic, a National Science Foundation post-doctoral fellow at Brown University. “The main question is, how do continents come to break apart? This process is really fundamental to shaping how the Earth looks; if not for rifting, once Pangaea formed, it would never have broken apart and we would have only one continent.”

Pangaea is a giant agglomeration of continents that broke up about 150 million years ago, creating our current collection of continents.

Scoping out the Earth

The lithosphere, Earth’s crust and the rigid rock beneath it, essentially floats on the asthenosphere, the soft and hot outer layer of the mantle that is located tens of kilometers belowground.

As a continental rift grows, one would expect to find a thinned lithosphere at the Salton Trough. But Lekic says the actual thinning was more dramatic than expected — as much as a 50 percent reduction compared to adjacent areas.

By studying earthquake waves passing through Earth, Lekic and colleagues measured the thickness of the lithosphere by locating its lower border. They knew that one type of wave converts to a faster wave type as it passes up from the asthenosphere into the lithosphere, so the conversion could be used to mark the base of the lithosphere.

It turned out that the lithosphere measured about 40 kilometers thick beneath the Salton Trough, compared to 60 to 80 kilometers on nearby areas. That thinning translates into a weakening that will eventually allow open water into the Trough, and myriad real-estate opportunities along the new shoreline.

Previous efforts to estimate the lithosphere’s depth have relied mainly on surface data, says Lekic, and that limited our knowledge of how the continental splitsville takes place. From relying on “surface observations of faults, topography, heat flow, and some studies of the crustal structure, we have not been able to image the detailed topography of the base of the tectonic plate, as it looks during rifting.”

Rift terrific

Although the study relied on the interest in Southern California seismology that is a response to extreme seismic activity, the finding says little about earthquake probabilities.

But earthquakes are not the only tectonic game in town, says Eugene Humphreys, a professor of geophysics at the University of Oregon. “While most people know southern California is being sheared by the San Andreas and related faults, most people are not aware that the region also is being pulled apart as the Pacific plate also moves slowly away from North America. These researchers have imaged the deep structure of the plate where it is being torn apart by this process, and contrary to what many have thought, the tears go through the entire plate right where the surface expression of this rifting is seen. It’s exciting work.”

The study provides insight into deep structure and processes of fluid migration up into the plate, says Humphreys. “These lower-plate interfaces were not expected to exist at all, and the scientific community is excited but struggling to determine what could create relatively sharp interfaces.”

Although Earth warms with depth, that is unlikely to explain the weakness, Humphreys says, “so the search for other causes is on. By associating the position and shape of these interfaces with a specific deformation history, this study provides important information on the origin of these interfaces.”

Lekic, who worked with co-author Karen Fischer of Brown, on the study, says that “Even at great depth, we see the same stretching and deformation that we see near the surface. At the bottom of the lithosphere, there is this persistent weakness, in a zone that runs more or less vertically, and that’s surprising.”

But as scientists wrestle with the geological goulash that is Southern California, we suggest you send a down payment to Rift ‘n Grift Realty on the ocean-front lot of your dreams – and wait a few million years!

— David J. Tenenbaum

How did galaxies form? It’s a cardinal mystery of the early universe. Microwave radiation created 380,000 years after the Big Bang shows a smooth array of molecules, spread out like a fog. The contrast to the situation one billion years later is complete: by then, matter was concentrated in stars and galaxies, separated by empty space.

Nowadays, most galaxies hide at least one super-dense black hole, whose gravitation prevents even light from escaping. Until now, nobody knew about black holes in the earliest galaxies.

Yesterday, Ezequiel Treister of the University of Hawaii and colleagues reported that most or all of the earliest galaxies also had black holes.

A problem of roots

The data illuminates the ultimate roots question – how our universe formed its present structure, and in particular, what happened during the billion years after the Big Bang banged about 13.7 billion years ago.

For 380,000 years, “During the embryonic universe, the fluctuations in density were about one-one thousandths of a percent, but over a billion years, structures developed,” Alexey Vikhlinin, author of a commentary in Nature, told The Why Files. “These galaxies are essentially the same type of objects in the present universe,” says Vikhlinin, an expert in X-ray astronomy at the Harvard-Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics.

How did we go from the primordial fog to a universe with ultra-dense galaxies, neutron stars and black holes separated by a vast nothingness where each cubic centimeter has about one lonely atom?

The vast epoch of ignorance, Vikhlinin says, “is called the dark age because little has been observed, and one of the major questions in astrophysics is how this transformation took place.” The new observations show that roughly the same proportion of matter (excluding the enigmatic dark matter and dark energy) was concentrated in galaxies and black holes then as now.

“These results show that pretty much every galaxy must have contained a substantial black hole, similar to today,” says Vikhlinin, “but this is the first observation that the relationship between galaxies and black holes that exists today, existed 1 billion years after the Big Bang.”

An extraordinary step

In the study, Treister and colleagues correlated long exposures from

Hubble Space Telescope, which can see extraordinarily distant (and ancient) galaxies, and

Chandra X-ray observatory, which picked up X-rays from distant, unidentifiable sources.

By pinpointing the source of Chandra’s X-rays on Hubble’s galactic snapshots, the scientists located ancient black holes inside some of the first galaxies.

The study benefited from three features, says Vikhlinin. “The necessary Chandra and Hubble data were taken only recently, and the observations were immediately made available to every interested scientist,” along with some money for their interpretation.

Treister also looked at the highest energy range that Chandra can detect, Vikhlinin adds. Because Chandra’s mirrors are more sensitive to lower-energy X-rays, “most people work in this region.”

The newly detected black holes produced a surprising result – that the basic structure of the universe has not changed terribly much in the 12.7 billion years since that ancient light embarked toward a planet that did not yet exist.

The “so-what?” part

Although the study shines some light on the presence of black holes and galaxies during the dark age, it does not provide a complete answer, says Vikhlinin. “It definitely seems as if galaxies and black holes have evolved in parallel. The growth of one controls the growth of the other, and vice versa, but the nature of the process and why they evolve in parallel is not entirely clear.”

Logically, a black hole would require a galaxy to provide the cold gas that it inhales. (This gas heats up as it enters the hole, creating the black hole’s X-ray signature; it also supplies material for the stars in the galaxy.)

But why a galaxy would need a black hole is less clear, Vikhlinin says. “We don’t know if galaxies can form in regions that initially don’t have the right conditions for the growth of a black hole. Maybe whenever a galaxy starts to grow actively, it makes a black hole in the center.”

Although the new evidence for an unchanging relationship between galaxies and black holes narrows the possible explanations, the formation of the first galaxies and black holes “remains one of the biggest unsolved problems in astrophysics,” Vikhlinin says.

– David J. Tenenbaum

Fish in the Gulf of Mexico: How safe?

The fire and deadly explosion of the Deepwater Horizon drilling rig on April 20, 2010 spewed a gusher of crude oil — about 4.4 million barrels — into the Gulf of Mexico.

The blowout flooded all levels of the Gulf with oil. And that oil, combined with millions of gallons of an oil-degrading chemical, raised questions about the health of Gulf seafood, both shellfish and finfish.

Fishing is major in the Gulf of Mexico, which in 2008 produced 15 percent of total weight of U.S. commercial fishing, and which has more sport fishers than any other American region.

Within two weeks, as a precaution to prevent the sale of contaminated fish, the government began closing parts of the Gulf to commercial fishing.

A report published today in Environmental Health Perspectives reviews the aftermath: How big was the threat? Did the closures harm the fishing industry by giving, in effect, official endorsement to the idea that the fish were contaminated? Were there any gaps in protection?

Not very filthy

The report came to an optimistic conclusion: government-sponsored studies of Gulf fish since the blowout found no significant contamination with heavy, persistent compounds called polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons. “I don’t know that we have any evidence that the fish were contaminated, ever,” says study first author Julia Gohlke, an assistant professor of environmental health science at the University of Alabama-Birmingham.

PAHs can cause cancer and are often used as a measure of hydrocarbon contamination. According to the new study, “Federal seafood testing results released to date” show PAH levels at roughly 1 percent of the “level of concern” that the Food and Drug Administration established for assessing food safety after the Deepwater blowout.

Other results, she says, have focused on total hydrocarbons derived from oil, rather than PAHs. “My analysis looked at what the government has done,” she says. “There are independent reports of contamination that I tried to include, but they did not measure PAHs, only total petroleum hydrocarbons.”

Large oil spills are so ominous that people can overreact, says Gohlke. “People see an oil spill and fisheries closures and assume everything must be contaminated, and nobody wants to eat anything. There is a misunderstanding of what is considered contamination. There is now a large dataset, at this point, to show there hasn’t been significant hydrocarbon contamination to date.”

Gohlke and colleagues looked at data on the BP blowout, and previous oil spills from around the world, to compare toxicity levels and evaluate the procedures used to close and open fisheries. The project was funded by a grant from the Walton Family Foundation to the Environmental Defense Fund.

Looking at samples taken during and after the blowout, no results suggested that eating fish – whether with shells or fins – would contain elevated levels of PAHs, says Gohlke, who cautions that monitoring should continue for years because buried oil may re-enter the water and contaminate fish.

After the BP spill, fishing was banned in as much as 37 percent of the Exclusive Economic Zone in the Gulf of Mexico, which extends 200 nautical miles from the coast. These bans were precautionary, since they were made in advance of contamination tests, says Gohlke.

Although “safe, not sorry” can be justified, closures can also have unintended consequences, or even backfire, she says. “Part of me thinks the precautionary approach is appropriate, but I don’t know how it has contributed to consumer confidence. Without sufficient risk communication, precautionary closures may create an expectation that the fish is contaminated. The last survey I saw, from February, suggested people were still considering Gulf seafood to be contaminated.”

“I think they make some pretty good recommendations to continue monitoring for PAHs,” says Ron Kendall, director of the Institute of Environmental and Human Health at Texas Tech University. “There is a lot of debate about underwater oil mats that are still floating, and how much oil may still be on the seafloor or in coastal marshes. With hurricane season approaching, we don’t know what kind of remobilizing of suspended oil and the mats will take place.”

To date, Kendall says, the data show that seafood has safe levels of PAHs, but “You’ve got to understand that all this oil is not gone. This story is still unfolding.”

All in all, the period since the ice age abated about 15,000 years ago has been pretty interesting. Melting ice raised the oceans, flooding the Bering Strait land bridge across which the Americas were populated. Temperatures rose around the globe, leading to the invention of cities, armies, writing and bacon.

Here’s an enduring question. Why were the giant mammals that made the Americas more zoologically diverse than Africa all exterminated within a few thousand years after the big melt-down? Bye-bye beavers as big as black bears, giant sloths, saber-toothed cats, and the elephant-like mastodon.

[svgallery name="mastadon"]

As Australian paleontologist Christopher Johnson wrote in Science this week, all 10 species of mammals weighing more than a ton had gone extinct in North America by 10,000 years ago.

Why?

Many theories are proposed for the sudden disappearance: An impact of a comet or asteroid around 12,900 years ago. Rapid ecological changes that accompanied the warming. Widespread wildfires. And hunting – the “overkill” hypothesis. Although similar disappearances roughly coincided with the arrival of people in Europe, Eurasia and Australia, and hunger is certainly the ultimate motivation, did people actually lay waste to entire groups of large mammals?

The debate may seem academic, and it has been one of the most brutal and tenacious debates in academia.

Reading the dung calendar

Now we get some solid evidence that the extinction of the mastodon and other large herbivores closely followed the arrival of humans in North America, and that it preceded a pervasive change in type and prevalence of trees.

The new evidence, contained in research by Jacquelyn Gill and Jack Williams of the University of Wisconsin-Madison, and colleagues, was published in Science this week, and although it does not prove the overkill hypothesis, it does usher a new type of evidence into the debate: spores of fungi that grow in herbivore dung.

Between 14,800 and approximately 13,700 years ago, fungal spores of the genus Sporormiella declined by up to 98 percent in sediments found in lakes in Indiana and New York State.

Mastodons eat black ash trees as the last ice age begins to abate. Image courtesy Barry Roal Carlsen, University of Wisconsin-Madison.

For decades, students of ancient ecology have been poking through pollen in sediments to see what plants were alive when the sediment was deposited. Pollen are durable structures, but it turns out that Sporormeilla spores are equally tough, and if you have the patience (Why Filers immediately excuse ourselves at this point!) counting spores provides a good gauge of the number of herbivores.

Because the same sample also contains pollen and charcoal, it’s also possible to document the co-existing plant community, and get an idea of the extent of wildfires.

Fungi are a new addition to the paleoecologist’s toolkit, says Gill, first author of the paper, and a graduate student in Williams’s lab. “Only recently have fungal spores been getting any attention; we used to basically ignore them if we counted them at all, but now we realize they are a good source of information about early conditions.”

Being skeptics, we asked whether the decline could simply represent a change in conditions that was less conducive to preservation, but Gill says not. “If so, you would expect other proxies to show similar transitions. Since the same sediment that contains the spores also contains pollen, we’d expect to see pollen disappear, but we don’t.”

The dating game

Having a firm date for the decline of mastodons and other large herbivores is mainly helpful for eliminating some possible explanations, says Gill. The decline started almost 2,000 years before the putative impact of a comet or asteroid. And a change in climate apparently did not cause a broad habitat loss, Gill adds. “The extinction started before the habitat changed; the vegetation is relatively stable until after the extinctions began. We do have evidence of warming taking place, but if climate change is causing the extinctions, it’s not through a loss of food.”

A major ecological change did follow the elimination of large mammals, however, as documented by pollen representing a new assembly of trees, including ash and ironwood, which had probably been held in check by hungry herbivores, growing along with less nutritious conifers like spruce and larch. Once the grazers left, these trees began to dominate the landscape — and then became fuel for wildfires that burdened younger sediment with charcoal.

Graduate student Jacquelyn Gill holds a sediment jar with a scrap of charcoal being prepared for carbon dating. Photo: The Why Files

Although the sexy “overhunting” hypothesis is sure to get a boost from the Science paper, Gill says one study hardly proves the case. And as Johnson notes in his commentary in Science, the Clovis people who spread across much of North America arrived more than 1,000 years after the decline began. Evidence for earlier North American populations is sketchy and scarce, but it is arising, Johnson added.

A second focus of the Gill paper may be equally important: the effect, rather than the cause, of the extinctions. “What happens when half of the species larger than a German shepherd go extinct in North America?” Gill asks. “Elephants eat 300 pounds of food a day, and when animals like the mastodon are rapidly taken out, you would think the landscape would notice, but that has been absent from the discussion. People were underestimating the power of these fungal spores to tell about the local presence of animals and vegetation.”

– David J. Tenenbaum