The way to kill invasive species, and thereby protect endangered species are brutal—traps, long-range rifles, and poisons—deployable only on a small scale and wildly indiscriminate. To excise the rat, say, from an ecosystem requires a sledgehammer that falls on many species.
All this is why some conservation biologists such as Karl Campbell has begun pushing for research into a much more precise and effective tool—one you might not associate with nature-loving conservationists. Self-perpetuating synthetic genetic machines called gene drives could someday alter not just one gene or one rat or even a population of rats but an entire species—of rats, mosquitoes, ticks, or any creature. And this biological technology promises to eliminate these destructive animals without shedding a drop of blood.
But the methods also contain the threat of unleashing another problem: They could change species, populations, and ecosystems in unintended and unstoppable ways.
Want to know more? Read about it here.
Have you seen a kiwi? Not the fruit, or the person (people from New Zealand call themselves kiwis) but the ground dwelling bird. They are horribly impractical. Their eggs take up a third of their body. They fly, they don’t run particularly fast, they aren’t clever, but they are adorable, and they have spent a long time living on this planet.
And they are rapidly going extinct in the wild due to introduced feral predators.
But New Zealand has gone nuclear on these pests, and recently vowed to eliminate all invasive predators by 2050.
Read about how they are going to accomplish this ambitious task over at the New York Times.
The kiwi egg before laying. That’s how much of its body cavity is taken up by egg.
Environments can vary substantially in habitat quality, local population abundance, or carrying capacity. Under some climate change scenarios, new, higher quality habitats become available along the margin of a species’ range (e.g. higher latitudes or altitudes) (Thomas et al 2001). These new habitats may be able to support larger population sizes. Factors of demography, evolution, and qualities of the abiotic and biotic communities all interact to determine where a species is found and may influence the ability of a species to expand its range. New research is building genetically explicit models in order to understand how the interplay of these different factors influence evolutionary changes,
The authors of a recent study focus on how the interaction of the demographic process of range expansion changes the way that natural selection favors beneficial and deleterious mutations (Peischl et al 2013). Using both computer simulations as well as mathematical approximations, the authors find that at the range margins, individuals carry a substantial load of deleterious mutations.
It’s already the third day of concurrent sessions a Evolution 2012, and I’m starting to get science overload. And I still have to present my own science tomorrow! But here are some more cool results I saw Sunday and Monday:
Vera Domingues presented a study of beach mice, which have evolved lighter fur after colonizing the sandy dunes of barrier islands off the Gulf Coast. As in many other animal species, a mutation at the pigment-related locus MC1R explains a lot of the color change; Domingues showed that in the population of barrier island mice, every copy of the mutant, “light color” form of MC1R is descended from the same ancestor, and that DNA sequence near the mutation resembles sequence from the ancestral population on the mainland—which suggests that the original mutant predates the move to the barrier islands.
Richard Lankau showed how garlic mustard, an invasive weed in the United States, uses chemical warfare to out-compete native plants. Garlic mustard secretes chemicals into the soil that suppress the growth of other plants, and alters the environment for beneficial mycorrhizal fungi—and plants grown with competitors produce more chemicals. But native plants can adapt; samples of a native competitor collected from sites invaded by garlic mustard were better able to survive near the invader than plants from non-invaded sites, and were less able to benefit from mycorrhizal fungi in soil that hadn’t been exposed to garlic mustard chemistry.
Some highlights from the first day of concurrent sessions in the Ottawa Convention Centre, on Saturday the 7th:
Mohamed Noor described the importance of chromosomal inversions—literally, chunks of DNA code that have been flipped end-to-end within the chromosome—in reproductive isolation between two species of Drosophila fruit flies. Inversions have the interesting effect of preventing recombination from breaking up groups of genes within the inversion; but some recombination is still possible, if very rare, and it should create predictable patterns of genetic divergence across the inverted region.
Most of the major phenotypic differences between Drosophila pseudoobscura and D. persimilis map to three regions that are inverted in one species relative to the other—Noor presented work from his lab that finds very fine-scale differences in genetic differentiation across the inversions, consistent with predicted variation in recombination. In a much-retweeted line, Noor pointed out that it’s possible to think of species as “groups of alleles in long-term association.” Chromosomal inversions being one way to help maintain those associations, plainly.
This post is a guest contribution by Kathryn Turner, a PhD student at the University of British Columbia, who studies the evolution of invasive thistles. Kathryn writes about her scientific interests at the slyly named site Alien Plantation and tweets under the handle @KTInvasion.
Invasive species are a big problem. A real big problem. In the US alone, invasive species cost nearly $120 billion in damages per year (Pimentel 2005). 42% of species on the Threatened and Endangered list are there primarily because of invasive species.
Which leaves us with two questions. First, most obviously, how is it that a species is able to come into a new environment that it is not adapted to, surrounded by new environmental conditions and foreign biological interactions, and thrive? Thrive so exaggeratedly, that it can out-compete and displace species which have been there for millennia, adapting precisely to those environmental conditions and biological interactions? How can an individual survive to propagate a population? How can any species accomplish this? Second, less obviously: why can’t more species do it? Humans transport animals and seeds (and spores and larvae, etc, etc) around all the time, but only 10% establish self-sustaining populations, and only 1% spread to new habitats, becoming potentially invasive; this is known as the ‘tens rule’ (Williamson 1993) – a funny ‘rule of thumb’ for which I could never quite figure out the math.