A 43 million-year-old transitional form: an amphibious whale

April 7, 2019 • 9:45 am

The evolution of whales from a small, deer-like artiodactyl took about ten million years: from about 50 million to about 40 million years ago. That’s remarkably fast evolution, especially when you consider the amount of morphological and physiological change that occurred, and the fact that the divergence between chimps and modern humans from their common ancestor, which (I think) took far less morphological and physiological change, took more than 6 million years.

Fortunately, we have a good fossil record of whales from Egypt, Pakistan and intervening areas, and so we can document this rapid change. Although the closest living relative of whales are hippos, the ancestor of modern cetaceans might have looked something like the first photo below, a reconstruction of the fossil Indohyus,  a terrestrial, raccoon-sized artiodactyl (note hooves) similar to the modern chevrotain (“mouse deer”), which is known to stay underwater for long periods to escape predators.

Indohyus (reconstruction)

Here’s a living chevrotain, the Lesser mouse-deer (Tragulus kanchil). It’s hard to imagine that something like this could evolve into the mighty whale!

At any rate, a new paper in Current Biology by Oliver Lambert et al. documents a transitional form between ancient and modern whales, a species they name Peregocetus  pacificus, dating from about 43 million years ago. It was found not in the Middle East but in Peru, and so also provides information about how whales colonized the Atlantic Ocean after their presumed origin off Southeast Asia. You can read the paper for free by clicking on the screenshot below, or by getting the pdf here. If somehow your access is blocked, judicious inquiry will get you a pdf.

This “whale” (if it can be called that) was dug up on the southern coast of Peru, with a large proportion of its skeleton remaining (see below; solid lines are recovered bones). From this skeleton we can conjecture that it was amphibious—it could swim and also walk on the land. Here’s the tally of found bones, and a reconstruction of how they were used to both swim and walk. As you can see from the scale, it was about 4 meters long:

(From paper): Schematic drawings of the articulated skeleton of MUSM 3580 showing the main preserved bones, in a hypothetical swimming and terrestrial posture. For paired bones, the best-preserved side was illustrated (sometimes reversed), or both sides were combined (e.g., mandible). Stippled lines indicate reconstructed parts and missing sections of the vertebral column; cranium, cervical vertebrae, and ribs based on Maiacetus inuus.

Some questions:

Why do we think it could swim? Peregocetus had a well-formed pelvis, attached to the rest of the skeleton, and well formed legs that would have stuck well outside the body.  It had a long tail, and the configuration of the tail vertebrae, compared to those of other swimming mammals like otters and beavers, suggest that the tail was somewhat paddle-like, powerful, and thus could be used for swimming. (This is seen in the reconstruction at the bottom.). It’s not known if the tail ended with a boneless “fluke” (as in modern whales), as that would not have been preserved.

The rear feet were long, as were the rear digits, and those digits were flattened with flanges on the side, indicative of webbed rear feet. Based on the foot anatomy, the authors suggest that “Propulsive movements were either alternate or simultaneous hind-limb paddling or body and tail undulations, as observed in modern river and sea otters, alternating between lift-based propulsion via pelvic undulations, including tail and hind limbs, and drag-based propulsion via independent strokes of the hind limbs.”

Here’s the distal part of the front leg:

Here’s the rear foot with flattened digits (I believe “3” are the hooflets):

Why do we think it could walk? I’ll quote the authors here: “The fore- and hind-limb proportions roughly similar to geologically older quadrupedal whales from India and Pakistan, the pelvis being firmly attached to the sacrum, an insertion fossa for the round ligament on the femur, and the retention of small hooves with a flat anteroventral tip at fingers and toes indicate that Peregocetus was still capable of standing and even walking on land.”

What else is interesting about this fossil? It had sharp and robust teeth, some shearing teeth, and a long snout, indicating that it probably ate large bony fish. Here is a mandible with teeth:

Further, this fossil suggests to the author a route for migration of ancestral whales from their origin in the Pacific to the Atlantic Oceans and into the New World.

Based on recent finds of whale fossils in West Africa, as well as this find from Peru, the authors suggest that whales made their way through the Tethys sea (the Mediterranean, which was contiguous with the Indian Ocean then), south along the West African coast, then hopped over the South Atlantic (much narrower at that time due to continental drift) along the coast of South America and then south through the Isthmus of Panama (open to the sea then) to get back to the eastern Pacific. It also is thought to have spread north along the east coast of North America. Below you can see the route of migration, with the authors’ hypothesis denoted by the black arrows below. (A trans-Pacific route can’t be ruled out, but the Pacific was much wider then and there are no early whale fossils on the Pacific coasts.)


Finally, here’s a reconstruction of the beast on land and see from the paper’s Supplemental Information:

(From paper): Figure S4. Artistic reconstruction of the middle Eocene (about 42.6 Ma) protocetid whale Peregocetus pacificus gen. et sp. nov., Related to Figure 2 and Data S2. Life reconstruction of two individuals of P. pacificus, one standing on the rocky shore and the other hunting sparid fish, along the coast of nowadays Peru. The presence of a caudal fluke in P. pacificus remains hypothetical and should be tested with the discovery of a more complete specimen, including posteriormost caudal vertebrae. Reconstruction by A. Gennari.

 

Here we have a true intermediate form, a transitional species which occurs when it’s supposed to: after the earliest whales but before the appearance of modern whales. Given this find, as well as the panoply of other fossil whales showing progression from ancestral to modern forms, creationists will be hard pressed to explain this.

h/t: Kevin

 

 

The recurrent laryngeal nerve as evidence for evolution

March 2, 2019 • 12:00 pm

On pages 82-84 of Why Evolution is True I discuss the recurrent laryngeal nerve of humans (and other tetrapods) as an example of evolution. It’s evidence via “retrodiction”, which is what I call the situation when a previously unexplained and puzzling phenomenon can be understood only in light of a theory, thus supporting that theory—in this case, evolution.

Rather than describe it again, here are two videos showing it and explaining how the configuration of that nerve supports evolution.

Creationists have an explanation for it, too (there’s nothing they can’t explain via God’s will, except perhaps the peculiar species composition of oceanic islands), but the goddy story is unconvincing and less parsimonious. Whereas the evolutionary explanation tells us why only one of the twinned cranial nerves does its crazy loop, and why it’s completely comprehensible via the known evolution of tetrapods, the creationist explanation is based solely on how the nerve works: a post facto “functional” explanation of why the creator would create the nerve’s tortuous path. But it doesn’t explain why the creator made that big loop to enervate the larynx when he could have sent a branch directly to the larynx without the loop.

Here Dr. Rohin Francis, a cardiologist and researcher in London, uses his expertise to show how the nerve supports the “tinkering” aspect of evolution:

Below Richard Dawkins attends the dissection of a giraffe, which has an extraordinarily long (5 meter) recurrent laryngeal nerve. Rohin, however, notes above that some long-necked sauropod dinosaurs certainly had a recurrent laryngeal nerve about 28 meters (92 feet) long! I believe I’ve posted this video before, but it goes well with the video above:

In my only visit ever to a human anatomy lab (I get freaked out by corpses), I myself watched the dissection of this nerve by an anatomy professor. And it’s just like the one above, only shorter.

h/t: Scott

You have vestigial muscles that moved the whiskers of your ancestors

June 19, 2017 • 9:30 am

This is the kind of post I envisioned writing—once every few weeks or so—when I started this website. My intention was to use the site to publicize new evidence for evolution. Not that we need any to show that that well evidenced theory is true, of course, but to support the book and alert people to cool new findings. But, as I’ve said, things got out of hand, and so we have cats, food, travels, religion, and so on. So let’s go back to our roots today. . .

Matthew, on the job as always, sent me this tw**t and asked me if I’d mentioned this in the “vestigial structures” section of Why Evolution is True.

I told him I hadn’t even heard of this, but, sure enough, I found the following in the “Human vestigiality” article in Wikipedia (worth looking at):

In many non-human mammals, the upper lip and sinus area is associated with whiskers or vibrissae which serve a sensory function. In humans, these whiskers do not exist but there are still sporadic cases where elements of the associated vibrissal capsular muscles or sinus hair muscles can be found. Based on histological studies of the upper lips of 20 cadavers, Tamatsu et al. found that structures resembling such muscles were present in 35% (7/20) of their specimens.[50]

Naturally I went to the cited source: a short paper by Yuichi Tamatsu et al. in Clinical Anatomy in 2007 (reference and link below; free access if you have the legal Unpaywall application). That paper shows what to me (and I’m not an anatomist) looks like vestigial muscles that are the remnants of muscles that move the whiskers in our mammalian relatives—and in our whiskered ancestors.

Mammalian whiskers are called “vibrissae” and most are are movable (their function is at least partly tactile–touch–though they may have other functions). As for how and why they move, here’s the Wikipedia entry:

The follicles of some groups of vibrissae in some species are motile. Generally, the supraorbital, genal and macrovibrissae are motile, whereas the microvibrissae are not. This is reflected in anatomical reports that have identified musculature associated with the macrovibrissae that is absent for the microvibrissae. A small muscle ‘sling’ is attached to each macrovibrissa and can move it more-or-less independently of the others, whilst larger muscles in the surrounding tissue move many or all of the macrovibrissae together.

Amongst those species with motile macrovibrissae, some (rats, mice, flying squirrels, gerbils, chincillas [sic], hamsters, shrews, porcupines, opossums) move them back and forth periodically in a movement known as whisking, while other species (cats, dogs, racoons, pandas) do not appear to. The distribution of mechanoreceptor types in the whisker follicle differs between rats and cats, which may correspond to this difference in the way they are used. Whisking movements are amongst the fastest produced by mammals. In all whisking animals in which it has so far been measured, these whisking movements are rapidly controlled in response to behavioural and environmental conditions. The whisking movements occur in bouts of variable duration, and at rates between 3 and 25 whisks/second. Movements of the whiskers are closely co-ordinated with those of the head and body.

You might remember that we evolved from a shrewlike ancestor, and thus probably an ancestor that could move its whiskers.

In their paper, Tamatsu et al contrast the whisker muscles (muscles of the “sinus hairs”, another name for vibrissae) with those of regular body hairs. The latter have smooth “arrector pili” muscles that can erect each hair involuntarily during times of cold or fear, giving us goose bumps. As I note in WEIT, these are probably vestigial in humans, as we have no need to look bigger by erecting our hairs (versus cats, who bush out when they’re threatened), and erecting our body hair in the cold doesn’t provide much thermal insulation since we’re “naked apes”. Arrector pili appear to be remnants from mammalian ancestors who could really use these muscles adaptively, and thus they give testimony to our evolution.

Here’s a drawing showing the arrector pilus, the orange-red band affixed to the hair follicle at center left:In contrast, whiskers are attached to special “capsular muscles” and can be moved voluntarily; unlike the smooth arrector pili, they are striated, or “striped”, as voluntary muscles are.

Tamatsu et al. looked for these capsular muscles by dissecting 20 cadavers (11 males and 9 females) and doing scanning electron microscopy of sections of the upper lip.  They found what looked like capsular “whisker muscles” in 4 males and 3 females, or 35% of the sample. I won’t go into detail, but will just show a few of the photos they present as evidence, along with their captions (indented). Note the striated muscle in (b), which you can see better two pictures down:

Sections through the upper lip. a: Light micrograph of a section of the upper lip region of a 76-yearold female. The right side of the figure is medial and the left side is lateral. Arrows indicate the location and direction of muscle fascicles. The fascicles diverge from the orbicularis oris layer and course to the dermis (D). SC, subcutaneous tissue; ML, muscle layer. Azan-Mallory stain. b: Magnified light micrograph of the rectangular, outlined area shown in (a). The arrows indicate the course of a muscle fiber having a striated pattern and collagen fibers. This bundle courses to a hair follicle (HF). [Scale: bar = 1 mm in (a) and 0.5 mm in (b)]

Higher magnification light micrograph (c) and SEM micrograph (d) of the rectangular, outlined area shown in (b). Arrows indicate an attachment area between the hair follicle and collagen fibers continued from the muscle fiber located in the subcutaneous tissue. [Scale bars: 250 microns in both photos]

Here the striated muscle is seen clearly:

High magnification light micrograph of the small rectangular outlined area shown in (b). A striated pattern can be seen in the muscle fiber. Scale bar = 25 microns

The authors conclude that these muscles are similar to those that move the whiskers in mammals that have them:

. . . in the sections that displayed vertical sections of hair follicles it was observed that these muscle and collagen fascicles surrounded the outer half of a hair follicle. This configuration is different from arrector pili muscles of body hairs that attach to the follicle at a single point, but shows similarity to muscle slings of mystacial vibrissae reported by Dorf (1982). According to his report, muscle slings of mystacial vibrissae embraced the follicles. Furthermore, we found many blood vessels containing blood cells near these follicles. Because of their thin walls and large diameter, these blood vessels were assumed to be veins, which are known to be associated with sinus hair follicles. Our findings of the structural characteristics of these muscles and follicles, which bear similarities to those of sinus hairs, led us to conclude that the observed muscle fascicles are a vestigial muscle of sinus hair. A 35% incidence supports this conclusion, given that regressive organs do not exist in all individuals.

Vestigial structures like wisdom teeth and ear-moving muscles often are missing in many individuals—one of the signs that the feature is of no or little use.  Now you’re probably asking yourself, if you’re a man, “If I had a mustache, could I move it if I were one of the individuals that had these muscles?” Or, if you have a mustache, you’ve probably already tried to move it as you read this. But no dice, for a mustache is not the equivalent of mammalian whiskers. A ‘stache is made of regular body hair and thus, while it could be moved by arrector pili, its hairs cannot be moved voluntarily.

Let’s take the finding of Tamatsu et al. as tentative but very suggestive, as the authors knew what kind of muscle to look for and found it. And we have no vibrissae. And the muscle is present in only a fraction of individuals, and in females, too. This looks to be an anatomical remnant of our whiskery ancestry: a vestigial trait that testifies to the fact of evolution.

____________

Tamatsu, Y.; K. Tsukahara, Kazue; M. Hotta and K. Shimada. 2007. “Vestiges of vibrissal capsular muscles exist in the human upper lip“. Clinical Anatomy. 20(6): 628–31.

Texas blind salamander has optic nerves but no real eyes

September 22, 2016 • 1:30 pm

This is the kind of post I originally intended to go on this site. When I started this website, I thought that every few weeks I’d publish a bit of new (or old) evidence for evolution, supporting Why Evolution Is True, which was a new book in 2009. Well, as you see, things kind of got out of hand. . .

But here is some information and links imparted by reader Charleen about the famous Texas blind salamanderEurycea rathbuni. As you might suspect from its name, it lives in dark underground abysses, caves, and artisian wells, and has retained into adulthood its juvenile gills. It’s also lost pigmentation, as is the case for many cave-dwellers. Finally, it’s endangered, its distribution limited to the Balcones Escarpment near San Marcos, Hays County, Texas You can find this animal only in the green area below; it’s been listed as endangered since 1967. As the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service (USFWS) notes:

The Texas blind salamander has been listed as endangered since 1967. It remains vulnerable, says San Marcos ARC director, Dr. Ken Ostrand. “They are impossible for scientists to sample underground, so we collect them in nets when they pop out in wells and springs, young ones, too small to fight currents,” said Ostrand. The young go into captivity at San Marcos ARC where they are held in refugia as a guard against potential harm that could come in the wild. Ostrand says their habitats, which he describes as a ‘limestone honey-combed sponge,’ are quick to recharge with surface precipitation, which could be accidentally laden with unwanted chemicals or spills. Preserving Texas blind salamanders in captivity is a security measure.

txmap-typhlomolge

Here’s what they looks like:

01

02

Behold it in its habitat; the first salamander shows up at 3:44. What weird creatures they are!

The USFWS has just put out an information sheet about the species, first discovered in the 1890s, giving notes about its morphology, behavior, and adding that 135 of these beasts are being kept at the San Marcos Aquatic Resources Center.

What’s relevant for our purposes is the salamander’s vestigial eyes, which appear to be small black dots of pigment below the skin, accompanied by a vestigial optic nerve that doesn’t appear to carry any impulses to the brain. As the USFWS notes:

Recent research on the salamander has yielded other useful information. San Marcos ARC scientists collaborated with Texas State University faculty on a study of eye development in the Texas blind salamander and two other salamander species that live in the Guadalupe watershed: the San Marcos salamander and Barton Springs salamander, both of which are sighted animals that live near sunlight.  Both are held in refugium at the ARC as well.

The research revealed that the blind salamanders retained a vestigial optic nerve with no eyes while the other species had well-developed eyes with structures for focus and variable light adaptation. The findings will be published in a peer-reviewed scientific journal, and have already yielded a master’s thesis.

It’s hard to imagine anything but evolution that would explain the presence of these vestigial eyes and nerves. Here are three photos I found of the pigment-spot “eyes,” which, like many vestigial traits, vary in their degree of development (e.g., human wisdom teeth and ear muscles).

tx-blind-salamander-picture-1

txblindsalamandersm807cu

texas-blind-salamander-head-detail

The last one has no visible eyespots at all.  Now I could write some more about eye loss and how it gives evidence for evolution, but I’ll ask you, the readers, to answer two questions:

  1. If you were a creationist trying to show that the vestigial eyes were not evidence for evolution, what would you say? I can think of at least three responses.
  2. Assuming, as is certainly the case, that the eyes have become vestigial via evolutionary processes, how do you think it happened? We don’t know for sure, of course, but I can think of at least three ways.

Put your answers below; there is no prize save the joy of thinking.

Is the appendix a vestigial organ?

May 15, 2016 • 1:00 pm

One of the main mistakes creationists make is arguing that if a vestigial trait is actually used for something, then it is neither vestigial nor gives us evidence for evolution. (Such features testify to common ancestry.)  Both creationist claims are wrong. They rest on the false argument that if the appendix, for instance, actually has some useful function, then it can no longer be claimed as evidence for evolution—as a now-useless remnant of a much larger part of the intestine that was useful in our ancestors.

Why is that argument false? Because if a feature is an evolutionary modification of an obviously ancestral feature, like the flippers of penguins (which clearly evolved from wings), then it can be both useful and vestigial, and therefore testimony of evolution. It’s important that readers remember this, because creationists conveniently forget it.

One feature that can be both vestigial and useful is the human appendix. Once thought to be not only useless, but positively detrimental (our ancestors died from its inflammation), we’re now finding that it has some use, as it contains immune-system cells that may serve as a refuge for useful bacteria, bacteria that can repopulate our gut if it’s wiped clean by diseases like cholera. A February article on the science site Cosmos—unfortunately called “The Appendix—Darwin’s Mistake“—points out increasing evidence that the appendix has a function.

Author and physician Norman Swan writes this in Cosmos:

. . . over the last few years the thinking has changed. The appendix turns out not to be an evolutionary curiosity but a handy little organ with the potential to resuscitate the bowel. Back in 2007, researchers at Duke University in North Carolina proposed that the appendix was actually a “safe house” for normal gut bacteria that could be put to use when the bowel had been devastated by, say, an infection such as cholera and needed to be repopulated by healthy bacteria.

The Duke group had found colonies of protective microbes known as biofilms were disproportionately produced by the appendix. Ironically, the immune cells found in the gooey mucous lining of the appendix and bowel actually help these biofilms to form.

If this theory were true then people without an appendix might be more vulnerable to dangerous gut infections. A study a few years later found evidence for this. People who’d had their appendix removed were significantly more likely to suffer recurrently from the serious and potentially life-threatening recurrent Clostridium difficile infection.

. . . the lining of the appendix contains a newly discovered class of immune cells known as innate lymphoid cells. Other lymphoid cells must be specifically tuned to attack the latest strains of bacteria or viruses, but these cells come ready wired to respond to the wide range of biological insults that flow down the intestines from our daily diet.

Experimenting in mice, the researchers found that these innate lymphoid cells were critical to maintaining the tissue around the caecum. If the cells were removed, the caecum shrank, suggesting they played a vital role for the integrity of the tissue. They also found that mice without these innate lymphoid cells were more vulnerable to a pathological
gut infection. This supports the study I mentioned earlier where patients without their appendix were more likely to suffer from recurrent C. difficile infections.

Darwin mentioned in The Descent of Man that the appendix is “useless” and “a rudiment”, as well as being variable, so that humans have really different sizes of their appendixes, and some have none at all.

Was he wrong about the appendix being evidence for evolution? No. Yes, he was wrong about its being “useless”, but not about its variability or its status as a rudiment of the larger appendixes in our herbivorous relatives.

Granted, the data above might be true, but that doesn’t detract from the appendix’s use as evidence for evolution. Yet creationists love finding that rudimentary organs may still be useful for something, as they think (not very clearly, as usual) that if something has a use, it can’t possibly be vestigial.

In fact one  creationist website takes this quote from Why Evolution is True to show that the evidence for evolution is weak:

We humans have many vestigial features proving that we evolved. The most popular is the appendix… our appendix is simply the remnant of an organ that was critically important to our leaf-eating ancestors, but is of no real value to us.

But the whole section, appearing on pages 60 and 61, notes that the appendix may have a function:

We humans have many vestigial features showing that we evolved. The most famous is the appendix.  Let’s look at it closely. Known medically as the vermiform (“worm shaped”) appendix, it’s a thin, pencil-sized cylinder of tissue that forms the end of the pouch, or caecum, that sits at the junction of our large and small intestines.  Like many vestigial features, its size and degree of development are highly variable: in humans, its length varies from about an inch to over a foot. A few people are even born without one.

In herbivorous animals like koalas, rabbits, and kangaroos, the caecum and its appendix tip are much larger than ours. This is also true of leaf-eating primates like lemurs, lorises, and spider monkeys. The enlarged pouch serves as a fermenting vessel (like the “extra stomachs” of cows), containing bacteria that help the animal break down cellulose into usable sugars. In primates whose diet includes fewer leaves, like orangutans and macaques, the caecum and appendix are reduced.  In humans, who don’t eat leaves and can’t digest cellulose, the appendix is nearly gone. Obviously the less herbivorous the animal, the smaller the caecum and appendix.  In other words, our appendix is simply the remnant of an organ that was critically important to our leaf-eating ancestors, but of no real value to us.

Does an appendix do us any good at all?  If so, it’s certainly not obvious.  Removing it doesn’t produce any bad side effects or increase mortality (in fact, removal seems to reduce the incidence of colitis).  Discussing the appendix in his famous textbook  The Vertebrate Body,  the paleontologist Alfred Romer remarked dryly, “Its major importance would appear to be financial support of the surgical profession.”  But to be fair, it may be of some small use.  The appendix contains patches of tissue that may function as part of the immune system.  It has also been suggested that it provides a refuge for useful gut bacteria when an infection removes them from the rest of our digestive system.

But these minor benefits are surely outweighed by the severe problems that come with the human appendix.  Its narrowness makes it easily clogged, which can lead to its infection and inflammation, otherwise known as appendicitis.  If not treated, a ruptured appendix can kill you. You have about one chance in 15 of getting appendicitis in your lifetime. Fortunately, thanks to the evolutionarily recent practice of surgery, the chance of dying when you get appendicitis is only 1%.  But before doctors began to remove inflamed appendixes in the late 18th century, mortality probably exceeded 20%. In other words, before the days of surgical removal, more than one person in a hundred died of appendicitis. That’s pretty strong natural selection.

So yes, the appendix may have a function, but it’s still a vestigial organ, and evidence for evolution. The only remaining question is this: is it a detrimental  feature? Well, because of doctors it isn’t now, but it may well have been over the bulk of human evolution, as I note above. And that may be the reason it’s not only small but variable among people. Features that are crucial for our survival and reproduction don’t vary nearly that much. Perhaps its marginal use as a refuge for bacteria wasn’t useful enough to overcome the disadvantage of its being prone to infection.

Saying that there is a “function” to the appendix isn’t enough. To show that its presence is (or was) adaptive compared to its non-presence, you have to show that the benefits of having a bacterial refuge (in terms of future reproduction) outweighed the problems of having an infection-prone organ.  And nobody has showed that. So, it’s still possible that the appendix, while vestigial and rudimentary (and highly variable: the sign of a feature, like wisdom teeth, that’s disappearing over time), may have been detrimental in our ancestors and is detrimental now.

Nevertheless, creationists continue to harp on a functionality of the appendix as disproving evolution. If there is a lesson from this post, just remember: THAT IS NOT TRUE.

But let us for the moment grant the creationists their argument: that the appendix is not a remnant of a useful feature, but a feature that evolved, or is maintained, by a net reproductive benefit to its carrier. Does that disprove evolution? Hardly, given the massive evidence for evolution from a gazillion other areas.

And there are features that don’t seem, even under scrutiny, to have any positive effect on your reproduction. If you want a feature that is almost certainly does not enhance fitness, try our vestigial ear muscles (also variable among people), or, better yet, the hundreds of “dead genes” that we harbor in our genome: genes that had a function in our ancestors but have been silenced. (Olfactory-receptor genes and yolk-protein genes in humans are two examples.) Let the creationists explain why the creator put nonfunctional “dead” genes in our DNA, and just those genes that are active and adaptive in our ancestors.

And seriously, Dr. Swan: “Darwin’s mistake?” What are you implying by that? As I said, it may well be true that, over the bulk of human evolution, having an appendix was, on net, detrimental. “Detrimental” is “worse than useless,” so Darwin might not have been so wrong after all.

h/t: Barry

Don McLeroy responds to the evidence for whale evolution

April 27, 2016 • 10:45 am

The other day I put up a post showing a video by Jon Peters about the evidence for the evolution of whales. That’s one of the great stories of evolution, and is copiously documented with evidence from many areas: the fossil record, genetics, embryology, vestigial organs, and so on. (The reptile—>mammal transition is equally well documented.) Readers added other evidence, including Gabriel McNett’s presentation on whale evolution at the NCSE website (free download) and a BBC show on the same topic with three scientists.

At the end of my post, I added this coda:

Given that the lecture’s being used in Texas, I look forward to creationist Don McLeroy’s response explaining how these data really comport better with the creation story of Genesis.

Well, McLeroy, once head of the Texas Board of Education, and a man who’s done more to damage science education in this country than anyone I can think of, has responded on his site To My Listening Ear. (What a misnomer! The man listens only to refute; he’s completely close-minded.) Here’s the entirety of McLeroy’s post, called “The Evolutionist’ Conceptual Lock” (there’s apparently a missing “s”):

Considering Carl Sagan’s “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence,” Jon Peter’s video fails Sagan’s test for whale evolution; he doesn’t realize he has not presented very much evidence. If he would only look at all of the whale as he looks at a hind limb atavism, he would realize his mistake. For example, when discussing hind limb atavisms, Peter’s observes: “Think about that. Remember, if it is a leg, think of the DNA it takes to produce a leg—bones, muscles, nerves, skin cartilage. That’s a lot of DNA.” I agree. But now consider the amount of genetic instructions and rewired DNA it takes for the transformation of an ancient land mammal into a whale. Now this is a lot of DNA! I do not know if he really has thought about the amount needed.

Yes, a creationist has a hard time explaining the atavism [JAC: what’s your explanation, Mr. McLeroy?], but the evolutionist has a multiple orders of magnitude problem explaining a whale. Especially, when all this supposedly happened “remarkably fast: most of the action took place within only 10 million years.” (Coyne, Why Evolution is True, 51)

This short critique highlights what I believe is the evolutionist’ greatest blind spot: thinking he has massive overwhelming evidence when he doesn’t. Stephen Gould warned “The greatest impediment to scientific innovation is usually a conceptual lock.” (Wonderful Life,276) I see the evolutionist’ “conceptual lock” as claiming “What’s not a problem is the lack of evidence.” (Coyne, 222)

I guess the missing “s” in “evolutionist'” isn’t a typo after all.

Here McLeroy simply raises the old canard about “evolution can’t create that much change in the DNA!”  But nobody has ever shown that it can’t, and we have the fossil evidence that it can. If McLeroy is serious here, he’d show that that amount of morphological and anatomical evolution that occurred simply couldn’t have happened via natural selection. That’s presently impossible, of course, since we don’t know how many genes have changed, and how many substitutions have occurred. The only attempt I know to see if the evolution of a complex character was evolutionarily feasible in a reasonable amount of time was Nilsson and Pelger’s 1994 paper (free download) on the evolution of a camera eye from a light-sensitive eye spot. Contrary to creationist assertions, they showed it could happen pretty quickly: a few hundred thousand years. Whales had ten million years to evolve, and of course many traits were changing at once.

And, as I said, we have the evolutionary evidence for morphological evolution—in the fossil record! McLeroy simply ignores that. What is his explanation for all the evidence: God put the vestigial pelvises and atavistic legs in whales to fool us? Did God create a succession of fossils to mimic the evolution of whales, apparently to trick biologists into thinking that whales evolved from terrestrial artiodactyls? Is McLeroy’s God a Cosmic Prankster?

As with all creationists, McLeroy doesn’t explicitly describe his alternative theory to explain the data: he just kvetches about evolution. I presume that he thinks that the false evidence for evolution is God’s handiwork; if he believes otherwise, he should give his theory for the remarkable succession of fossils, the vestigial pelvis and rudimentary legs, and the silenced olfactory-receptor genes (they’re all  “dead” in cetaceans). For the nonce, I will assume that McLeroy sees God as allied with Satan in this cartoon from reader Pliny the in Between:

Toon Background.001

 

Evidence for evolution: whales

April 25, 2016 • 9:15 am

After my CfI lecture in Portland, I met reader Jon Peters, who told me he’d made and videotaped an entire lecture on the evidence for evolution—using only whales and other cetaceans as examples. Some of the material is from WEIT, and I must have given permission for that, though I can’t recall. I may have even posted this before, but can’t be arsed to look.

At any rate, this 47-minute lecture uses evidence from fossils, morphology, vestigial organs, development, atavistic traits (legs popping up, etc.), and genetics. The talk has been up over a year but has only a bit over 500 views. It deserves more attention, for it’s not only full of interesting data, but is also a great teaching resource.

It’s especially useful as ammunition against those who claim that microevolution occurs but not “macroevolution”—usually defined as the evolution of one “kind” of animal into another “kind.” “Kind”, of course, is a Biblical term without any biological meaning.  But if it has any meaning at all, surely the evolution of a small terrestrial artiodactyl into a giant seagoing mammal without hindlimbs is macroevolution. And it all happened in a relatively short time: about 10 million years. In contrast, the evolution of Homo sapiens from our common ancestor with chimps took roughly 7 million years, a much slower rate of morphological change.

I asked him to send me the link, which he did (see below) and added this:

I have compiled evidences for whale evolution into a lecture that from what I can tell one cannot find in a single presentation. Although none of the content is original, I have tried to put so much evidence together that further denial of whale evolution is untenable even to the most diehard creationist. Indeed, the lecture is holding up very, very well against anti-evolutionists. Some of the material has been taken from WEIT and I am grateful for all your posts and activity for science and evolution.
Here’s the lecture (it’s being used now in some college courses in east Texas and it’s been well received by multiple groups in the Northwest). I have changed it over the years to be much more friendly to those who doubt evolution – my target audience. I’ve tried to make it visually compelling and simple enough for high school students. Since the copy below was made, I’ve also fixed a few errors and updated it by putting in a section on pseudogenes, using the ENAM gene and pseudogenes as one example when they are compared in placental mammals.

Given that the lecture’s being used in Texas, I look forward to creationist Don McLeroy’s response explaining how these data really comport better with the creation story of Genesis.