Where on Earth did language begin?

April 16, 2011 • 5:42 am

The short answer: probably southern Africa.

As I note in Chapter 7 of WEIT, it was Darwin who first pointed out, in The Origin, the similarity between the evolution of languages and the evolution of species.  Languages evolve in a straight line, like some lineages of plants and animals, and they sometimes split, so that different languages like French and German nevertheless have a common ancestor.  One can draw a “tree of life” for languages just as one can do for species. (The parallel isn’t perfect, of course: there is “horizontal transmission” of words across languages, and, as Steve Pinker pointed out to me, language “mutations” are not “random” in the sense that they don’t arise irrespective of their utility.)

But the parallel between genetic and linguistic evolution resulted in a really nice paper published this week in Science on the origin of human language.  The author, Quentin Atkinson at the Department of Psychology at the University of Auckland, was inspired by earlier studies that traced the origin of modern Homo sapiens using genetics and morphology.  Those earlier studies showed that both genetic and morphological variation was highest in African populations, and declines with distance from Africa.  To evolutionary anthropologists, this suggested that modern H. sapiens arose from an out-of-Africa migration that began about 60,000 years ago, and that the colonization of the rest of the world occurred through a series of sequential “founder events,” in which smallish groups of humans moved from one place to another.

Atkinson looked at a linguistic analogue of genetic variation: variation in phonemes, defined as “the smallest contrastive unit in the sound system of a language.”  English, for example, has about 44 phonemes, including many consonant sounds like “b” and “p”, and fewer vowel phonemes (the “a” sound in “about” and in “bad” are two distinct phonemes).  It’s also been known for a while that different human languages vary widely in the number of phonemes.  One site says the following:

The total number of English phonemes is about 44, the exact number depending on the speaker’s accent. In terms of the languages of the world, the smallest number of phonemes known to exist is the 11 of Rotakas, an Indo-Pacific language. [JAC: Hawaiian has 13.] The largest is the 141 of !Xu, a language spoken in southern Africa; the average number of phonemes in a language is in fact 31. About 70% of languages have between 20 and 37 phonemes.

And, as Pinker noted when I asked him about this paper (which he likes),  “I always noticed that the San [JAC: previously called “Bushmen”] had more than a hundred phonemes, the Polynesians less than a dozen (hence the long, polysyllabic names in Hawaii and New Zealand”).

It’s also well known that the number of phonemes in a language is significantly correlated with the number of its speakers, presumably because phonemes undergo stochastic loss by “phoneme drift” in small populations—just as genetic variation undergoes stochastic loss by genetic drift in small populations.

Atkinson decided to study the geographic distribution of phonemes in languages throughout the world.  He looked at 504 languages for which phoneme number was available, and immediately observed that, like genetic variation itself, phoneme diversity was highest in Africa and lowest in Oceania, with “clinal” (gradual geographic) variation from high to low number in between. Here’s the plot from Figure 1 of his paper:

(He also confirmed that phoneme diversity was indeed correlated with the number of speakers of a language.)

The plot above suggested another hypothesis: that language originated in Africa, where it retains a high number of ancestral phonemes, and then spread through successive founder events to the rest of the world, losing phonemes through “linguistic drift” at each event.  This, of course, would require something that linguists find nearly unbelievable: modern languages retain vestiges of the structure they had 60,000 to 10,000 years ago, the period when modern humans colonized the globe.   The clinal variation in phonemes in the plot above would then reflect successive loss of “sound units” by successive establishment of populations by small numbers of migrating ancestors.

To test this, Atkinson made a model that assumed spoken language had originated in one place and spread throughout the globe, and also that phoneme number was correlated with present population size.  He then removed the effect of population size to pinpoint an area where language could have originated. Here’s Figure 2A from his paper, with the most likely area of language origin being the lightest color, and successively darker regions showing the inverse relationship between phonemic diversity and distance.  As you see, Ground Zero for language is southwest Africa:

This mirrors very nicely the path of human migration out of Africa suggested by genetic and phenotypic data:  we moved into Eurasia, then western and southwestern Asia, crossed the Bering Strait about 20,000 years ago, and made it to Polynesia only a few thousand years ago.  Compare the Old World part of the map above with this map of human genetic diversity taken form the New York Times.  Both maps show the same pattern: a high-diversity focus in southwest Africa, with diversity decreasing as one moves further from that area.

Another nice result was Atkinson’s observation that (after controlling for population size) phoneme diversity also declines in the Americas with distance from the Bering Strait, as expected if our ancestors hip-hopped southward after the migration from Asia.

Atkinson took into account possible complicating factors, like a multi-region origin of language (not really supported by the data), and the idea that phonemic diversity simply results from more contact with speakers of other languages, so you get diverse by absorbing the speech of your neighbors (that wasn’t supported, either).  As far as I can see in my linguistic ignorance, Atkinson’s conclusions appear not only provocative but pretty sound.  It’s amazing to think that modern languages retain, in their number of phonemes, vestiges of their ancestry and information about early human migration. This will be a surprise to linguists, who, as far as I know, see ancestry of languages decaying completely after a few thousand years.

At the end of his paper, Atkinson suggests that language itself may have fostered the “out-of-Africa” movement of H. sapiens:

Truly modern language, akin to languages spoken today, may thus have been the key cultural innovation that allowed the emergence of these and other hallmarks of behavioral modernity and ultimately led to our colonization of the globe.

I think that’s taking it a bit too far: after all, there could have been many other reasons for colonization, including increased population sizes that mandated movement to avoid competition (these sizes would, of course, be correlated with phoneme number!) or the decimation of big game.  Every researcher likes to think that her object of study was the key feature in creating modern human culture.  But I can excuse Atkinson’s last speculative sentence, for his analysis is truly creative and remarkable—a pathbreaking study of the relationship between human language and human evolution.

____________

Atkinson, Q. D. 2011.  Phonemic diversity supports a serial founder effect model of language expansion from Africa.  Science 332:346-349.

Can you ear me now?

April 15, 2011 • 2:36 pm

by Greg Mayer

A chief difference between  mammals and reptiles is that mammals have a single bone in the lower jaw (the dentary), which articulates with the squamosal bone of the upper jaw to form the jaw joint (d/s for short); while in reptiles there are numerous bones in the lower jaw (the dentary plus several postdentary bones), and it is one of the postdentary bones (the articular) which forms the jaw joint, but not with the squamosal bone, but with the quadrate.

It might seem difficult to end one jaw joint and start another, but we do know how it happened, and a paper published yesterday in Nature by Jin Meng, Yuanqing Wang, and Chuankui Li adds interesting detail to the story.

Figure 1: Middle ears and eardrums in ventral view. a, In the transitional ear of Liaoconodon, as inferred by Meng et al.1, the eardrum (dotted line) would have been stretched between the ectotympanic bone (red) and the skull. Tension on the eardrum was maintained by the buttressing of the ectotympanic on the anterior process of the malleus (dark blue) and the ossified Meckel’s cartilage (orange). b, In the ear of an extant mammal, the opossum Didelphis, the ectotympanic is fixed to the skull and the eardrum is almost entirely attached to it. The other ossicles depicted are the incus (green) and the stapes (light blue). The bones depicted in light brown are the posterior of the jaw showing the joint with the skull. (From A. Weil. 2011 A jaw-dropping ear. Nature 472-474.)

As long ago as the 1870s Richard Owen and Edward Drinker Cope realized that reptiles were ancestral to mammals, and identified the particular group of reptiles from which the mammals descended; Cope called them the “theromorphous” (beast-shaped) reptiles. Owen and Cope did not have the fossils to show how it happened, but subsequently discovered fossils have amply born out their insight, and we now know how it did happen. Among those making major contributions were A.S. Romer, A.W. “Fuzz” Crompton, and Farish Jenkins, all of the Museum of Comparative Zoology.

The story is, in fact, even stranger than one might have imagined. Mammals don’t just lose the postdentary bones of their lower jaws: a number of these bones, along with one from the upper jaw,  become the bones of the mammalian middle ear, joining there the stapes, the single middle ear bone of reptiles. The reptilian angular, articular, and quadrate  become the mammalian tympanic, malleus, and incus, respectively.  The mammalian middle ear is composed (in part) by the reptilian jaw joint!

Many fossils document this transition (although creationists still don’t seem to know this). The postdentary bones gradually decrease in size, the dentary gradually enlarges, eventually making contact with the skull to form the d/s joint; and the postdentary bones lose their connection to the lower jaw, moving back into the middle ear. Some of the most advanced reptiles had both jaw joints, and this condition persisted into early mammals. The new genus and species described by Meng et al. comes form the exquisitely preserved Jehol biota of Liaoning, and shows the last tenuous connection between the mammalian ear ossicles and the lower jaw, via Meckel’s cartilage, an ancient part of the lower jaw lying along the medial surface of the dentary. They refer to it as a “transitional mammalian middle ear”, the transition being between the mandibular middle ear (i.e. attached to the lower jaw) of the earliest mammals (and most advanced reptiles), and the definitive mammalian middle ear present in the adults of all extant mammals, in which there is no persistent connection between the middle ear and the lower jaw.

As an aside, this paper should never have been published in Nature. It’s not that it’s no good, rather it’s too good. The authors have written a monograph on the new form, but only 5 pages of it were published. The other 73 pages, consisting of illustrations, methods, analysis, data, discussion, and references is in a supplementary file, that most readers will probably never see. It used to be that an important monographic work might be accompanied by a short paper highlighting key findings. Jared Diamond’s monumental Avifauna of the Eastern Highlands of New Guinea (1972, Pub. Nuttall Ornith. Club 12) was followed by a 10 page paper in Science on the “Distributional ecology of New Guinea birds” (1973, Science 179:759-769; a very long paper for Science). I fear that the present authors’ monographic labor will never see the light of day in a form which insures its availability and permanence. ______________________________________________________________

Cope, E. D. 1878. The theromorphous Reptilia. Am. Nat. 12: 829-830.

Crompton, A.W. & Jenkins, F. A. 1973. Mammals from reptiles: a review of mammalian origins. A. Rev. Earth Planet. Sci. 1: 131-155.

Crompton, A.W. & Jenkins, F. A. 1979. Origin of mammals. In Mesozoic mammals: the first two-thirds of mammalian history (ed. J. A. Lillegraven, Z. Kielan-Jaworowska & W. A. Clemens), pp. 59-73. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Meng, J., Y. Wang and C. Li. 2011. Transitional mammalian middle ear from a new Cretaceous Jehol eutriconodont. Nature 472: 181–185.

Owen, R. 1876. Description and illustrated catalogue of the fossil Reptilia of South Africa in the collection of the British Museum. London: British Museum.

Romer, A.S. 1969. Cynodont reptile with incipient mammalian jaw articulation. Science 166:881-882.

Weil, A. 2011 A jaw-dropping ear. Nature 472-474.

Sam Harris/William Craig debate now online

April 15, 2011 • 10:03 am

Many of us couldn’t listen to the April 7 debate between Sam Harris and William Lane Craig at Notre Dame (topic: does morality come from God?) because the audio was atrocious.  The whole two-hour debate has now been put on YouTube with good audio:

Sam has some remarks on the debate at his website, which support what he told me: if you spend all your time rebutting your opponent’s contentions, you never get to make your points.

Contraception and Catholicism are “compatible”

April 15, 2011 • 6:00 am

According to the strident New Accommodationists, the definition of “compatibility” is “somebody who believes something and yet does something else that’s inconsistent with that belief.” So, for example, science and faith are compatible because some scientists are religious.  Likewise with Catholicism and pedophilia.

A new report by the Guttmacher Institute, reported by Reuters, shows that 98% of Catholic women use contraceptive methods banned by the Church.  That’s no surprise, of course, and eventually the Church will have to change its view of this—another example of religious “morality” changing to accommodate secular thinking.

But here’s how one author of the report characterizes the finding:

“In real-life America, contraceptive use and strong religious beliefs are highly compatible,” said the report’s lead author Rachel Jones.

LOL!  I wonder what the Pope would say about that?

h/t: Sigmund

More fossil hominin footprints

April 15, 2011 • 5:16 am

You all remember the Laetoli footprints from Tanzania: footprints from what were probably three individuals of Australopithecus afarensis, made 3.6 million years ago as they walked across soft volcanic ash.  Those proved indubitably that our early ancestors were fully bipedal, and were a poignant snapshot of hominins long gone.

Scientific American now reports on another such finding: a group of footprints (also in Tanzania) from 18 individuals of Homo sapiens walking together on the shores of Lake Natron.  They’re dated at 120,000 years ago.  This discovery hasn’t yet been published, but was announced two days ago by Brian Richmond of George Washington University at the latest meeting of the Paleoanthropology Society.  As Sci Am reports, there were other human footprints as well, but one set seems to have been left by a social band of hominins:

The other group of prints, however, were made by 18 individuals walking together to the west.

To learn more about the these early travelers, Richmond and his colleagues compared the fossil footprints to a set of prints obtained experimentally from modern-day men and women from Ileret, Kenya, moving at a variety of speeds. Based on these measurements, the team concluded that the ancient human group was composed of men, women and children, with more women than men.

Now we already knew from fossils that H. sapiens was fully bipedal, but the paper may shed rare light on early human society.  Was 18 the size of this early human social group?

The Scientific American report didn’t have any photos, but I dug one up from the website of Dr. Cynthia Liutkus of Appalachian State University, who works on the Natron footprints:

Judging by the length and width, if this were a male he’d wear a size 7 D cowboy boot.

Saxtastic: Art Pepper

April 15, 2011 • 4:38 am

Art Pepper (1925-1982) was one of the last saxophonists I learned about. A few years back a colleague loaned me Pepper’s Live at the Village Vanguard CD, and when I heard “But Beautiful”, which I now consider one of the greatest sax pieces in jazz history, I was transported. (Sadly, that song isn’t online.)

If you’re a jazz buff, you’ll know about Pepper’s tumultuous life. A heroin addict for nearly thirty years, he served several stints in jail, including time at San Quentin. In between he made some remarkable albums.  One of them is Art Pepper Meets the Rhythm Section, with Red Garland on piano, Paul Chambers on bass, and Philly Joe Jones on the drums.

I’m including a cut from the album here, which is even more remarkable considering how my Penguin Guide to Jazz on CD describes it:

The playing on Meets the Rhythm Section beggars belief when the circumstances are considered: Pepper wasn’t even aware of the session until the morning of the date, hadn’t played in two weeks, was going through difficult times with his narcotics problem and didn’t know any of the material they played.

And from that session you’ll find this great rendition of Cole Porter’s “You’d Be So Nice to Come Home To”:



And so Sax Week comes to a close, but I reserve the right to return with some Lester Young. . .