The Curse Of "Big Picture Study" Bias

Vertebrate paleontology is one of the most broad-based, interdisciplinary branches of the natural sciences. Even though it is usually considered a branch of geology (and most university-based vertebrate paleontologists belong to Geology departments), it straddles the line between geology and biology. While it may be concerned with the lives of once living organisms, nearly all information about these organisms comes ultimately from the rock record. This occurs most notably in the form of the fossils themselves, but also as information about the environments these organisms inhabited (depositional systems, paleoclimate), the ways in which taxa and faunas changed over time (biostratigraphy/biochronology), and possible causes for faunal change (many of which, such as the identification of bolide impacts, rely heavily on geochemistry). The biological aspects of paleontology also loom large of course; systematics (including both alpha taxonomy and phylogenetics), functional morphology, and ontogenetic development studied through histology (especially what it may tell us about metabolism) perhaps being the most prominent. It’s a lot to process, but combined these various lines of evidence have the ability to tell us a great deal about the history of life on Earth.

A modest example of this is my own work with Bill here at Petrified Forest, where we have spent the last couple years collecting a great deal of geologic and morphological data to tell us about faunal change over time, and its relationship to environmental change, within this particular little corner of Arizona during a particular little segment of time. However, in mostly confining its gaze to one particular geographic unit, our work is not what might be considered a “big picture” study. “Big picture” studies tend to look at global issues, especially over long periods of time. They synthesize large quantities of data compiled by (mostly other) scientists, and they get a lot of attention. And money. What is sometimes under appreciated is that these big picture studies are only as solid as the multiple lines of evidence on which they are drawn.

The fact is that detailed small picture studies and big picture studies need each other. Small scale studies need big picture studies to give them ultimate relevance…but big picture studies need detailed small scale studies to give them validity. A small-scale study that isn’t incorporated into an overall picture of the grand scheme of things is an irrelevancy, and isolated novelty with no context. A big picture study can’t exist without small picture studies, and if the small picture studies are poorly done, the big picture study is bullshit. Garbage in, garbage out as they say.

In light of this co-dependence between small picture and big picture studies, I never fail to get pissed off when universities, grants, and journals consider big picture studies to be more important and worthy than small picture studies. Back in 2005, when the first preliminary paper on the Revueltosaurus material from PEFO which demonstrated that Revueltosaurus was not an ornithischian dinosaur was being prepared, we (well, Bill Randy, and Sterling; I had almost nothing to do with it) initially submitted it to JVP. However, the initial JVP paper was rejected for being of “too provincial” in its scope, or something along those lines.

One problem with this criticism is its inherent ridiculousness…ALL papers published in ANY journal are of provincial interest to some degree. I have never received an issue of JVP where I was particularly interested in all of the papers, or even most of them. While I recognize that bovid phylogeny or trace element geochemical analysis of vertebrate bones are as important and valid (to someone) as my own studies are to me, I couldn’t personally give a flying fuck about them. Even bigger picture studies, such as the impact of statistical tests or coding methods on phylogeny, are not so pressing to more geology-oriented workers like me.

But there is a deeper and more fundamental problem to this bias: it discourages detailed small-picture studies. This bias is ultimately destructive to science. If careful and detailed work to really nail down a limited problem is discouraged so that such studies are neglected, then what becomes of the larger, big picture syntheses based on these studies? For vertebrate paleontology to flourish as a rigorous science, detailed small-picture studies need to be supported and encouraged. They must be put an equal footing with broader-based big picture studies in terms of respect and funding. If we can reward scientists for playing with other people’s data, why can’t we reward the people who did the work to produce that data in the first place?

Pehaps My All Time Favorite Family Guy Moment

The first time I saw this, I thought I was going to die.

Yes, I Love Dinosaurs Too.

Best Quote Ever

Sure, I know the meaning of love. It's muscular. It's alive. It throbs. And it's full of blood.
-PZ Myers, biologist

Am I The Only Non-Conservative Who Thinks That This Is Bullshit?

What the fuck?

I've been waiting patiently for the last week for something to emerge suggesting that Loughner was in any way shape or form inspired by Palin, the Tea Party, or anything even remotely associated with conservative rhetoric. It hasn't emerged. All indications are that he is a crazy nonpartisan fuck who is broadly, vaguely, and incoherently anti...something or other. His specific beef against Giffords seems to be that she didn't answer a question for him once. He registered as an independent, and he is an atheist, which doesn't exactly put him in the conservative camp. His actions seem to have been inspired by nothing more specific than the voices in his head.

Could the political rhetoric we've been seeing inspire this kind of violence? I guess that it could, hypothetically. But it hasn't, at least not in this case.

Is conservative hate-mongering really more repulsive than the fact that Democrats are making political mileage out of senseless murders? I am an libertarian/liberal leaning atheist, but I am also capable of rational thought. This is bullshit.

House of Bones And The Future of Paleoerrata

I have a new hosted blog now where I have to post relevant shit and not swear so much.

Paleoerrata serves three basic functions for me:

1. A place to discuss matters which will mean something to people with a little bit of paleontology background (e.g. the Advice For Aspiring Researchers series, and my commentaries on Triassic-related literature).

2. An outlet for working out my ideas on science and religion.

3. A place to post whatever random shit amuses me.

I want to use House of Bones as more of an outreach blog; a place to introduce non-paleontologists, both the lay public and scientists in other disciplines, to vertebrate paleontology. It will be more of my "respectable" face. As such, it might end up being a watered-down version of Darren Naish's Tetrapod Zoology blog; a place for giving overviews of particular subjects.

I still plan to maintain Paleoerrata, although as I am busting my ass trying to get drafts and illustrations finished for two extremely in-depth descriptions of pseudosuchian archosaurs, it may be a little neglected for a while. I have done blogs now discussing most of my big ideas on the science-religion debate, and am currently planning another essentially summarizing why I think it is important to keep hashing out a subject which causes a lot of people a lot of consternation.

However, House of Bones will be getting most of my attention for at least a while. I have a big series of posts that I am exited about which will combine an overview of archosaur evolution and dinosaur origins, and a discussion of the moronic ignorance of Kirk Cameron and Ray Comfort. It will be called "Searching for the Crocoduck."

Mark Twain On The Subject Of Homeopathic Medicine.

Here.

Just Watch. You'll Get The Idea.

This is obviously not paleo-related, but quite interesting nonetheless.

The True Story Of How Jurassic Park Made Everything OK

Darren Naish's excellent blog on stegosaur taxonomy includes a photograph of the Stegosaurus mount at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science (fifth image down). Ah yes, I know that mount. Let me tell you the story.

I started working at DMNS in 1992, when I was 17. It was still the Denver Museum of Natural History (DMNH) in those days; incidentally, the name change took place sometime in the late 1990s, and was a largely unadvertised administrative decision to accommodate the then brand-new, hideously expensive, and totally uninspiring space science exhibit. The move royally pissed off most of the people I knew who worked there, many if whom decided the new acronym DMNS stood for "dumbass."

In consider myself extremely fortunate to have worked at DMNH as a volunteer from 1992 to 1994, as I witnessed and participated (in a minor way) in virtually the entire construction of the Prehistoric Journey exhibit, which means that I got to help dismantle the old dinosaur mounts on the first floor and remount them upstairs. This was also when I met Ken Carpenter, Bryan Small, and the four temporary staff members hired to help assemble the exhibit: Jerry Harris, Jennifer Moerman (who currently works at the Natural History Museum in Philadelphia), John Christians (who left paleo to go teach high school), and Karen Alf (who did some important work with dinosaur eggs; sadly, Karen died about ten years ago).

I was a skinny kid in those days who wore a large black hat which obstructed my peripheral vision. I bumped my head into things several times. This is known as "foreshadowing."

This story takes place after I had been working at DMNH about a year or so. It was, in fact, the week the Jurassic Park opened (and the summer after I graduated from high school), before anyone really had any idea what a completely game-changing movie it was going to be. Ken Carpenter had been invited to an early screening for a bunch of dinosaur paleontologists that week, and was looking forward to it.

This particular day, I'm helping touch up the Allosaurus and Stegosaurus skeletons. Now, the DMNH Stegosaurus skull is mostly a plaster reconstruction, and while it was on exhibit in the old dinosaur hall, no one was sure if there might be real bone inside. When the skeleton was dismantled and the bones re-prepped, it was discovered that there was a real skull roof buried inside, which is visible in the new mount. Fortunately though, the rest of the skull was plaster. That is more foreshadowing.

The skeleton was mostly mounted by then, including the skull. I'm painting some of the reconstructed areas on the Allosaurus pelvis and verts, while Ken is getting the forelimbs of the Stegosaurus mounted. Incidentally, Ken's method in mounting the skeletons was to first use duct tape to tape the limb bones to the armature to hold it in place while he welded on the braces; the Rocky Mountain News ran a story on duct tape about that time, and the cover image was a great photo of Ken taping the Diplodocus tibia in place.

Ken has finished getting the armature welded for the left forelimb, and says "Martz, come over here and hold the shoulder blade for me."

So, I hop down off the ladder and duck under the skull, but stand up too soon. I feel my head smash into something, which doesn't really hurt that bad since whatever it is crumbles immediately, and then I am sitting on the floor under a decapitated Stegosaurus surrounded by little bits of plaster. It takes me a moment to absorb the calamity.

Oh, shit, I think.

Ken stands surveying the scene for a moment, and then walks out of the room. I'm not sure if he is getting away to avoid killing me, or if he is going to look for a tool that will hurt more than the welding torch, so I take the opportunity to flee.

The week passes without me working up the balls to go back to the museum, and two days before Jurassic Park comes out, I get a call from John Christians. John tells me that everything is cool. I can come back and Ken won't kill me. Ken saw Jurassic Park and it was fucking awesome. The words "shit pants" were used. The Denver Museum has bought two rows of seats in a theater for opening day, would I like to go? Sure, I said. And it wasn't a trap either; Ken really was in a good mood. I sat with two rows of natural history employees and watched the dawn of the cg age and we did a lot of cheering and screaming, and everything was cool.

LNJ

p.s. I tried to find the image of Ken taping up the Diplodocus image online, and somehow found this news story. What the fuck, google?

New Science Blog

It's great to see biology discussed with this kind of enthusiasm.

I've been tempted and encouraged to up my game, but I'm not sure that my causal obscenity can compete with this kind of focus. We are all beautiful and unique snowflakes.

Too Many Stars

I need people to check my math on this.

A few weeks ago, Bill and I were on the way to Flagstaff, and we got to talking about the size of the Universe. Bill mentioned a recent survey of the cosmos which estimates that there are about 300 septillion (3.0 x 1023) stars (the 23 is supposed to be a superscript; blogger apparantly can't do superscripts), which is roughly three times the previous estimate of 100 septillion (3 x 1023) stars.

We tried to figure out how to represent that as something that we could more easily grasp, like if each star was a grain of sand laid out in a perfectly uniform carpet with the grains touching, how big an area would that cover? We decided it would probably be something ridiculously huge, like the area of the entire North American continent. Just driving the 100 odd miles between Holbrook and Flagstaff, imagining the number of grains of sand flying by on either side of us, it seemed like an awful lot.

Nope. I finally sat down to do the math.

Lets make all the sand grains about 0.5 mm in diameter. This makes for 400 grains/cm2, or 4 x 1012 grains/km2.

1 x 1023 grains of sand (representing stars) divided by 4 x 1012 grains/km2 = a total area of about 2.5 x 101o km2.
3 x 1023 grains of sand (representing stars) divided by 4 x 1012 grains of sand/km2 = a total area of about 7.5 x 101o km2.

However, the total land surface of the entire Earth is only about 1.5 x 108 km2....

Which means you would need between about 167-500 Earths (depending on which estimate for the number of stars that you use), with the entire land surface covered with a uniform carpet of sand one grain deep and with all the grains touching, to equal the number of stars in the visible universe.

If you drain all the water off the Earth so that you can cover the entire surface are of the Earth (which is about 5.1 x 108 km2), you would only need 49-147 Earths.

That is a shitload of stars. And they were ALL MADE JUST FOR US. Don't you feel fortunate?