Einstein's Errors—Part 1

One hundred years ago the world was notified by an obscure patent-office clerk in Switzerland (one Albert Einstein), that its notion of how gravity worked was wrong. For more than 200 years before that, Newton's description of the “universal law of gravitation” had been considered irrefutable: gravity was a force that can be expressed as an attraction between two or more bodies. Thus, if I hold out a ball, the Earth attracts the ball toward it through a gravitational force, and when I release the ball, gravity pulls it straight down.

Einstein rewrote our concept of the physics of gravitation when he published his general theory of relativity in December 1915, titled “The Field Equations of Gravitation.” Instead of the Earth pulling a ball downward, the mass of the planet literally bends or warps space around it. Then, as the ball travels, it's forced to follow the warped space field, right into the planet. The image is a little easier to grasp if we ponder the Sun, whose huge mass warps space so much around itself that Earth, “thinking” it's following a straight line, actually circles the sun. The “straight lines” of space have literally been curved by the sun's huge mass.

Not many scientists—let alone average people—in 1915 bothered to heed the scribblings of a lowly German patent clerk in Switzerland. But four years later a prominent English astronomer used Einstein's equations to explain an anomalous shift in the apparent position of a distant star as its image passed behind our sun during an eclipse. Overnight Einstein became a science rock star. For the next 40 years Albert remained in the physics limelight, as he continued his researches. He remained in the public limelight also; abetted by his fascinating personal idiosyncrasies, wild hairdo, and otherwise photogenic appearance.

Few scientific figures have ever approached Einstein's fame. (Maybe today, Steven Hawking is close.) His discoveries came from his unique ability to blend a keen skill at mathematics, with a penetrating insight into experimental measurements, but topped off by his talent at conducting thought experiments. His thought experiments were a crucial ingredient in his work, because most of what he studied could not at the time be tested by physical experiments. Humans had yet to visit space or build the required complicated test equipment to run the necessary experiments. These came later, when they subsequently verified every abstract equation and thought experiment that he had run inside his head.

Over the last 100 years Einstein's theories have repeatedly shown to be correct. Not one significant error has been found. He was not perfect, and physicists love to mention his small errors, but they have never denied his fundamental insights. The man has been right on.

More on Einstein's errors next time...

My Owl--by Night and by Day

Our Best Friends

Numerous scientific studies have unequivocally shown that dogs—considered by many people to be “man's best friend”—descended from the wolves. This result comes from DNA studies of wolves and dogs. The estimated date of when dogs became our buddies is as yet a little hazy: anywhere from about 13 thousand years ago to as long ago as 30 thousand years. The relationship between wolves and dogs is also demonstrated in their scientific names: Canis lupus (for wolves) and Canis lupus familairis (for dogs). We certainly are more familiar with dogs.

A tougher question about the evolution of wolves to dogs is: How did the first dogs transform from wolves? By what process did those pioneer wolves come in from the wild and buddy-up to our ancestors? The answer to questions like these cannot be investigated by DNA experiments in the laboratory, nor are there any historical documents waiting to be discovered (since no human was able to write at the time). Nonetheless, recent research is offering some insights to understand how dogs evolved from wolves.

A common belief for many years has been that dogs evolved when an enterprising hunter-gatherer encountered some cute wolf puppies and carried a couple of them home to the cave to adopt. In time the little wolves became tame and the rest of the story is history. That tale has been debunked. The lifestyle of our hunter-gatherer ancestors was too nomadic to allow them to carry out such a lengthy process. In addition, modern studies of wolves have shown that, although wolves can be socialized and even tamed, they retain a large degree of wildness, that keeps them from connecting with people as deeply as dogs do. Finally, what sane hunger-gatherer parent would allow a wild wolf to get cozy with their kids?

Research has shown instead that humans did not domesticate wolves... wolves did it themselves. Dogs are thus self-domesticated wolves. They chose us. Why? How? Very recent studies have shown that dogs are a rare type of critter who possess a kind of intelligence that allows them to interpret our intentions. They read our behavior and body language and perceive what we literally are thinking. In humans this ability is called “theory of mind.” Here's how it works: I know that I have a mind, I assume that other people do, and further, I assume that how I respond to things is similar to how other people do.

Dogs do not have this level of cognitive ability, but they do have a remarkable ability to read our intentions. It is a capability that allowed them to domesticate themselves and learn to live with us, long ago. They were clever enough to perceive that life would be much easier if they became our buddies. We would be their source of food (our leftover garbage) and rather than compete with us in hunting down animals (as have their wolf cousins), they could partner with us and benefit from our skills (and vice versa).

As an example, the dog is unique among animals in understanding that when we point at something, we are drawing their attention to it. Wolves can't do it. Even our closest relatives, the chimpanzees and bonobos, can't do it. This ability allows dogs to make inferences about our intentions and to flexibly and creatively solve new problems for themselves—things that neither wolves nor apes can do.

So we humans have more in common with dogs than we've previously thought. When we evolved from apes into Homo sapiens, we later developed the theory of mind, which has allowed us to develop a unique form of communication and to cooperate to achieve impressive things. When dogs evolved from wolves (on their own initiative) they developed a similar ability, that gives us and them a unique form of communication and cooperation. Does that not make them our best friends?

Unknown Fly

I discovered this fly recently. I have no idea of what it is. Click to enlarge.

Earliest Ag?

A seminal event in the evolution of our species Homo sapiens occurred when we transitioned from a hunter-gatherer existence to a horticultural/agricultural way of life. For hundreds of thousands of years or longer we lived in small bands of a couple dozen or so closely-related people—surviving on what we could scavenge in the way of wild plants and animals. We were hunter-gatherers. When food became scarce in one location, we'd move on, seeking places that offered more sustenance. We were wanderers.

An enormous change in our lives happened when we discovered that we need not gather and eat only what Mother Nature provided freely, but that we could select for and encourage those plants that were tastiest and most nutritious. We transitioned from hunter-gatherers to cultivators. We also discovered that the meat we'd come to crave didn't always have to be hunted down in the wild, but that we could domesticate some of the more tame critters to supply our protein. Very slowly we transitioned from wanderers to settled people—living all year long in one location and building permanent dwellings.

One of the biggest changes that this development brought to Homo sapiens—and one we continue to struggle with—is that our communities grew larger. Whereas hunter-gatherer bands contained at most a few dozen people, we began forming villages of several hundred or more people. It made life a lot more challenging to find ways to allow humans to live together in crowded situations, without constantly getting in each others' faces. Violence and its associated moral dilemmas are problems that we have struggled with ever since. While we had hundreds of thousands (maybe millions) of years to find out ways to get along as hunter-gatherers, we've had only several thousand years to figure out how to live in crowded conditions, without waging constant wars. We're still working on it.

How long ago did that transition to agriculture occur? When did we settle down and begin to create cities and nations? Until recently, the accepted date was about 12 thousand years ago. Archaeological evidence suggested that humans invented agriculture and domesticated animals in the Middle East about then. Of course, the transition took some time—it wasn't an “overnight sensation.”

A recent discovery in Israel, however, seems to push that date much further back—to about 23 thousand years ago. Ancient settlements along the Sea of Galilee from that time have been carefully examined. Researchers found permanent huts, hearths, stone tools, and animal and plant remains. Precursors to domestic plants were also discovered; such as wheat, barley, lentils, figs, grapes, etc.

What I find fascinating is that the clincher to the fact that these 23-thousand-year-old people were farming is that they fought weeds invading their food plantings. What kinds of weeds? The same two prolific varieties that pester farms in Israel today. It seems that after humans clear some land, cultivate the soil, maybe fertilize it a little, what comes next? Weeds. Mother Nature abhors a cleared piece of land, so she created weeds. Our deep ancestors cultivated some of the first crops that humans grew, and had to deal with the same weedy critters that we do today. Fascinating.

Does it matter that we've now discovered that Homo sapiens settled down much longer ago that we'd thought? Maybe not. Maybe it tells us that we've had nearly twice as long to accommodate to an urban lifestyle, and that we should be further along than we are. That could be fodder for evolutionary psychologists who try to understand why our minds work the way they do. Maybe it tells us that we shouldn't get too locked into one theory of how we evolved. Maybe it has deeper implications about human nature, that we have yet to figure out. Maybe it's just more evidence that weeds are here to stay in our human-horticultured world.

Radcliffe's Dagger Moth Caterpillar

I found this guy walking across the hot tub. When I closed in for the photo, he reared up, as if to show me his fearsome front legs, warning me not to come any closer. Click to enlarge.

Cardinal Mate Swap

For at least a half-dozen years we have enjoyed watching our resident pair of cardinals go about the business of foraging, feeding, and rearing their young. We've been treated by their song, their beauty, and antics of the babies. I have written before that, because of the distinctive coloring of the male and female, we can easily tell them apart. Moreover, because the male is very territorial, he prevents any other male from setting up residence in our clearing; therefore, this is the only pair of cardinals we've seen around the homestead. In fact, we've watched them so many times over the years that we've gotten to know both of them—almost as family members. Their behavioral quirks have become quite familiar.

That's why I was rather startled when I watched an adult female cardinal fly to the feeder, a week or so ago. I was surprised because this was not our resident female. The breast of this bird was much lighter in color, her body was more slender, and her wings were a more somber shade of brown. I wondered if she was just passing through, which is odd in the middle of the brooding season; or if she'd soon be chased away by the larger resident female.

The new bird flew off and I went about my chores. A day or so later I spotted the newcomer again. I also recalled that I'd not seen the familiar old female in the meantime. Then I was surprised to see the male fly to the feeder one evening and join the new female. His behavior around her—eating with her, chipping back and forth as they did so, and then flying off with her—was exactly as he had done for years with his long-time mate. It hit me that this must be his new mate! I'm sure that he would not be cavorting with another female—unless his former mate was gone.

Over the next several days I watched the newly-mated pair come and go from the feeder—continuing to act like a typical cardinal couple. Something had happened to his old mate. I pondered the possibilities. I doubt that she's still alive—she'd not have surrendered her queendom of the clearing without a fight. I had watched her assertive ways for too many years to accept the fact that another female would likely dethrone her.

Cardinals may mate for just one season or for life—as our pair seemed to have done. What happens when one of the mates dies? Do they mourn the loss of the partner they've had for several years? Some people have observed the death of a mated bird, watched the behavior of the survivor, and interpreted it as grieving. This may be, but we humans have a propensity to read how we would feel in the situation into an animal's behavior. It's called anthropomorphism.

We humans will likely never know how an animal really feels. I once watched a black snake raid a bluebird nesting box, then kill and eat two babies, before I chased it off. The parents fought the snake noisily and gallantly, but I observed no mourning on their part, after the incident was over. Very soon they resumed feeding their two surviving babies (one of which I had picked up off the ground and put back in the box), behaving as if nothing had happened. They had important things to do.

As for my male cardinal and his new mate: How had he behaved at the loss of his former mate? Was he present when she met her end? Did she actually die? I can't believe that, as a settled pair for so long, he'd simply dump her. It seems odd that this would happen in the middle of the brooding season, but if she did die, why should he not promptly carry on? That indomitable spirit is what has kept this species going for millions of years.

This is yet another of those examples of what happens when you have the time to delve into an event in Mother Nature's wonderful world. You are able to learn some fascinating things—but for every single piece of knowledge you gather, you just uncover at least two more puzzling questions. It's what keeps my life here on the homestead an endless, interesting quest to understand the secrets of the natural world.