Herbaceous dialects and dialectical materialism: how plants communicate with their pollinators

The inspiration behind this post stems from reading two of the giants of science popularisation during my formative years. The first component is from Carl Sagan's book Broca's Brain: Reflections on the Romance of Science, which remarks that the emotional lives of plants are an example of pure pseudoscience. The second is Stephen Jay Gould's essay on Pyotr Kropotkin, a nineteenth century Russian anarchist who wrote the essay collection Mutual Aid: A Factor of Evolution. What joins them together is recent research that uncovers an astonishingly complex relationship between certain plants and animals.

Kropotkin's hypothesis was that cooperation between species was as fundamental to life on our planet as natural selection. Although his socialist-motivated ideas have been somewhat downscaled by the evidence of the succeeding century, there are still some truths to be learnt about the mutual aid - or symbiosis if you prefer - between fundamentally different life forms.

I recently read about some experiments in Israel and Germany, which involved such esoteric boffinry as placing laser microphones close to tobacco and tomato plants in order to pick up any ultrasonic noises that they might emit. The plants were heavily pruned or moved into parched soil, in other words, subject to physiological stress.

Analysis of the recordings revealed high-pitch sounds (or in the researchers' words, 'squeals') emanating from their herbaceous guinea pigs. Not only did the sounds vary depending on whether the plant was suffering from mutilation or lack of moisture, but each species (both members of the Solanaceae family) had differing numbers of repetitions and time intervals between each sound. What's even more interesting is the noises differed according to the local invertebrate life, specifically the potential pollinating insects.

In addition to the scientists' equipment, animals such as bats and rodents were placed in the vicinity of the subjects and reacted to the sounds as they were being produced, verifying the shrieks as emanating from the plants. The physiological cause appears to be the movement of air bubbles within liquids such as sap, but how are plants able to perceive the problems, let alone respond to them?

It's been known for some years that plants can communicate with other members of their species via emitting chemical compounds; just think of the odour of freshly cut grass. Forest trees even share nutrients via a symbiotic root system in order to allow smaller members of their species to grow faster - so much for selfish genetics here!

Communication between plants by all three methods, namely direct contact, sound, and chemical odour, suggests purpose and awareness, only without a central nervous system to guide it. This might sound impossible, but then the marine bacteria species Bacillus subtilus uses potassium ions to communicate across its colonies and few would argue that bacterium are more advanced life forms than the kingdom Plantae. We should also remember that in even in animals, brains aren't the be-all and end-all: there are neurons in vertebrate (including human) stomachs and in the arms of cephalopods.

The symbiotic relationship between angiosperms (flowering plants) and pollinating insects evolved in the late Cretaceous, so natural selection has had over sixty-five million years to work on the communications systems between these collaborators. Could it be that plants have evolved a specialist messaging service for their pollinating symbionts, despite having no equivalent of neurons to coordinate it?

Some of the recent Israeli research seems to verify this – and how! When endangered by being cut or deprived of water, the specific noises were not only picked up by pollinating insects, they were acted upon. Insects such as hawk moths flew away from the plants that were suffering drought or mutilation to control specimens on the farthest side of the greenhouse laboratory and laid their eggs upon those plants. Meanwhile, other insects that were known pollinators on the same plant species but not local the region ignored the audio signals. Somehow, there is a level of fine-tuning going on that reveals the sensory world of plants is far superior to what is usually credited.

Parallel experiments successfully tested for the opposite effect. Individual tobacco plants with mature flowers sent messages that attracted the attention of local pollinators such as stilt bugs. All in all, it appears that certain plant species – at least of the Solanaceae family - engage in a form of mutual aid that Kropotkin would be proud of. Not only do plants use ultrasonics to target useful insects, they have developed a messaging service that is regionalised towards those insect species, essentially a dialect rather than a universal language.

While tobacco and tomato plants might not be screaming in pain every time they are cut or lacking water, it seems that they cannot be as easily dismissed as the poorer relation to us animals. The time may be due for a complete reappraisal of their perception capabilities, although amateur researchers would do well to remember that both tomato and tobacco are from the same family as the mandrake and as any Harry Potter fan should know, you wouldn't want to hear those scream!

Printing ourselves into a corner? Mankind and additive manufacturing

One technology that has seemingly come out of nowhere in recent years is the 3D printer. More correctly called additive manufacturing, it has only taken a few years between the building of early industrial models and a thriving consumer market - unlike say, the gestation period between the invention and availability of affordable domestic video cassette recorders.

Some years ago I mentioned the similarities between the iPAD and Star Trek The Next Generation's PADD, with only several decades separating the real-world item from its science fiction equivalent. Today's 3D printers are not so much a primitive precursor of the USS Enterprise-D's replicator as a paradigm shift away in terms of their profound limitations. And yet they still have capabilities that would have seemed incredibly futuristic when I was a child. As an aside, devices such as 3D printers and tablets show just how flexible and adaptable we humans are. Although my generation would have considered them as pure sci-fi, today's children regularly use them in schools and even at home and consider the pocket calculators and digital watches of my childhood in the same way as I looked at steam engines.

But whilst it can't yet produce an instant cup of earl grey tea, additive manufacturing tools are now being tested to create organic, even biological components. Bioprinting promises custom-made organs and replacement tissue in the next few decades, meaning that organ rejection and immune system repression could become a thing of the past. Other naturally-occurring substances such as ice crystals are also being replicated, in this case for realistic testing of how aircraft wings can be designed to minimise problems caused by ice. All in all, the technology seems to find a home in practically every sector of our society and our lives.

Even our remotest of outposts such as the International Space Station are benefiting from the use of additive manufacturing in cutting-edge research as well as the more humdrum role of creating replacement parts - saving the great expense of having to ship components into space. I wouldn't be surprised if polar and underwater research bases are also planning to use 3D printers for these purposes, as well as for fabricating structures in hostile environments. The European Space Agency has even been looking into how to construct a lunar base using 3D printing, with tests involving Italian volcanic rock as a substitute for lunar regolith.

However, even such promising, paradigm-shifting technologies as additive manufacturing can have their negative aspects. In this particular case there are some obvious examples, such as home-printed handguns (originally with very short lifespans, but with the development of 3D printed projectiles instead of conventional ammunition, that is changing.) There are also subtle but more profound issues that arise from the technology, including how reliance on these systems can lead to over-confidence and the loss of ingenuity. It's easy to see the failure due to hubris around such monumental disasters as the sinking of the Titanic, but the dangers of potentially ubiquitous 3D printing technology are more elusive.

During the Apollo 13 mission in 1970, astronauts and engineers on the ground developed a way to connect the CSM's lithium hydroxide canisters to the LM's air scrubbers, literally a case of fitting a square peg into a round hole. If today's equivalents had to rely solely on a 3D printer - with its power consumption making it a less than viable option - they could very well be stuck. Might reliance on a virtual catalogue of components that can be manufactured at the push of a button sap the creativity vital to the next generation of space explorers?

I know young people who don't have some of the skills that my generation deemed fairly essential, such as map reading and basic arithmetic. But deeper than this, creative thinking is as important as analytical rigour and mathematics to the STEM disciplines. Great physicists such as Einstein and Richard Feynman stated how much new ideas in science come from daydreaming and guesswork, not by sticking to robot-like algorithmic processes. Could it be that by using unintelligent machines in so many aspects of our lives we are starting to think more like them, not vice versa?

I've previously touched on how consumerism may be decreasing our intelligence in general, but in this case might such wonder devices as 3D printers be turning us into drones, reducing our ability to problem-solve in a crisis? Yes, they are a brave new world - and bioprinting may prove to be a revolution in medicine - but we need to maintain good, old-fashioned ingenuity; what we in New Zealand call the 'Number 8 wire mentality'. Otherwise, our species risks falling into the trap that there is a wonder device for every occasion - when in actual fact the most sophisticated object in the known universe rests firmly inside our heads.

Falling off the edge: in search of a flat Earth

It's just possible that future historians will label the 21st century as the Era of Extreme Stupidity. In addition to the 'Big Four' of climate change denial, disbelief in evolution by natural selection, young Earth creationism and the anti-vaxxers, there are groups whose oddball ideas have rather less impact on our ecosystem and ourselves. One segment of people that I place in the same camp as UFO abductees and their probing fixation are believers in a flat Earth.

Although on the surface this - admittedly tiny - percentage of people appear to be more amusing than harmful, their media visibility makes them a microcosm of the appalling state of science education and critical thinking in general. In addition, their belief in an immense, long-running, global conspiracy adds ammunition to those with similar paranoid delusions, such as the moon landing deniers. One example of how intense those beliefs can be (at times there's just a whiff of religious fanaticism), the American inventor and stuntman 'Mad' Mike Hughes was killed recently flying a self-built rocket intended to prove that the Earth is a disc.

I won't bother to describe exactly what the flat Earthers take to be true, except that their current beliefs resemble a description of the late, great Terry Pratchett's fantasy Discworld - albeit without the waterfall around the edge of the disc. For anyone who wants to test the hypothesis themselves rather than rely on authority (the mark of a true scientist) there are plenty of observational methods to try. These include:

1. Viewing the Earth's shadow on the Moon during a lunar eclipse
2. Noticing that a sailing ship's mast disappears/reappears on the horizon after/before the hull
3. How certain stars are only visible at particular latitudes

For anyone with a sense of adventure, you can also build a high-altitude balloon or undertake a HAHO skydive to photograph the Earth's curvature - from any point on the planet!

It's easy to suggest that perhaps our brains just aren't up to the task of deciphering the intricacies of a 13.7 billion old universe, but basic experiments and observations made several thousand years ago were enough for Greek scientists to confirm both the shape and size of our planet. So what has changed in the past century or so to turn back the clock, geophysically-speaking?

The modern take on a flat Earth seems to have begun in the late 19th century, with an attempt - similar to contemporary mid-Western creationists - to ignore scientific discoveries that disagree with a literal interpretation of the Old Testament. Indeed, the forerunners of today's flat Earthers were anti-science in many respects, also denying that prominent enemy of today's Biblical literalists, evolution by natural selection. However, many of the 21st century' s leading adherents to a disc-shaped Earth have more sympathy and interest in scientific discoveries, even supporting such politically contentious issues as rapid, human-induced, climate change.

This topic is laden with ironies, few greater than the fact that a large proportion of the evidence for global warming is supplied by space agencies such as NASA. The latter has long been claimed by the Flat Earth Society as a leading conspirator and purveyor of faked imagery in the promotion of a spherical earth (yes to all pedants, I know that strictly speaking our planet is an oblate spheroid, not purely spherical).

Today's flat Earth societies follow the typical pseudo-scientific / fringe approach, analysing the latest science theories for material they can cherry pick and cannibalise to support their ideas. In recent years they've even tackled key new developments such as dark energy; in fact, about the only area they are lagging behind in is the incorporation of elements involving quantum mechanics.

But for anyone with an understanding of parsimony or Occam's Razor, the physics for a flat Earth have about as much likelihood as Aristotle's crystalline spheres. It isn't just the special pleading for localised astrophysics (since the other planets are deemed spherical); isn't it obviously absurd that there could be a global conspiracy involving rival nations and potentially hundreds of thousands of people - with no obvious explanation of what the conspirators gain from the deception?

Even for the vast majority of the public with little interest or understanding of the physics, most people considering the flat Earth hypothesis are presumably puzzled by this apparent lack of motivation. In a nutshell, what's in it for the conspirators? Until recently, NASA (nick-named 'Never A Straight Answer,') was the main enemy, but with numerous other nations and private corporations building space vehicles, there is now a plethora of conspiracy partners. Going back half a century to the height of the Cold War why, for example, would the USA and Soviet Union have agreed to conspire? As yet, there hasn't been anything approaching a satisfactory answer; but ask Carl Sagan said: "Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence."

Unlike most fringe groups, flat Earthers don't appear to favour other, popular conspiracy theories above scientific evidence. Yet somehow, their ability to support ludicrous ideas whilst denying fundamental observations and the laws of physics in the light of so much material evidence is astonishing.  Of course our species doesn't have a mental architecture geared solely towards rational, methodical thought processes, but the STEM advances that Homo sapiens has made over the millennia prove we are capable of suppressing the chaotic, emotional states we usually associate with young children.

Whether we can transform science education into a cornerstone topic, as daily-relevant as reading, writing and arithmetic, remains to be seen. Meanwhile, the quest continues for funding a voyage to find the Antarctic ice wall that prevents the oceans falling over the edge of the world. Monty Python, anyone?

Wildfires and woeful thinking: why have Australians ignored global warming?

In a curious example of serendipity, I was thinking about a quote from the end of Carl Sagan's novel Contact ("For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love") just a few minutes before discovering his daughter Sasha Sagan's book For Small Creatures Such as We. Okay, so I didn't buy the book - due to the usual post-Christmas funds shortage - and cannot provide a review, but this indication of our place in the scale of creation is something that resonates deep within me.

I've often discussed how biased we are due to our physical size, especially when compared to other species we share the planet with. However, I've never really considered that other fundamental dimension, time. Another Carl Sagan quote echoes many a poet's rumination on our comparatively brief lifespan: "We are like butterflies who flutter for a day and think it is forever."

There's more to this than just fairly familiar poetic conceit. Earlier this month I was given a brief taste of what it might be like to live on Mars, thanks to high-altitude dust and ash transported across the Tasman Sea from the Australian bush fires. By three o'clock in the afternoon a New Zealand summer's day was turned into an eerie orange twilight, with birds and nocturnal insects starting their evening routine some five hours early. There was even a faint powdery, acrid taste in the air, adding to the sense of other-worldliness.

Apart from the obvious fact that this an example of how climate change in one nation can affect another, there is a more disturbing element to all this. Why is it that despite the reports and general consensus of the global climate science community Australians have shown a woeful lack of interest, or indeed, negativity, towards climate change?

Could it be that our society is now centred upon such short increments of time (competing businesses trying to out-do each other, which comes down to working at the ever-increasing speed our technology dictates) that we have replaced analysis with unthinking acceptance of the simplest and most aggressive opinions? Research shows that compared to even twenty years' ago, children read far less non-school literature and rely on the almost useless 'celebrity' shouters of social media for much of their information; there's not much chance of learning about informed, considered arguments via these sources!

After all, it's difficult for most of us to remember exact details of the weather a year ago, but understanding climate change relies on acceptance of directional trends over at least decades. How much easier is it to accept the opinions of those who preserve the status quo and claim we can maintain our current lifestyle with impunity? When combined with the Western capitalist notion of continuous growth and self-regulation, we see a not-so-subtle indoctrination that describes action to prevent climate change as disruptive to the fundamental aspects of the society that has arisen since the Industrial Revolution.

There is an old French saying that we get the government we deserve, which in Australia's case, implies a widespread desire to ignore or even deny global warming. Yet the irony is that of all developed nations, Australia has been at the receiving end of some of its worst effects, thanks to an average increase in daily temperature of several degrees over past century. It takes little cognition to understand how this can lead to the drier conditions that have caused the horrific bush fires; even though some have been deliberately started, their scale has been exacerbated by the change of climate. So what until now has prevented Australians from tying the cause to the effects?

It's not as if there isn't plenty of real-world evidence. However, with computer technology able to generate 'deep fakes', which implies a level of sophistication that only experts can detect, is the public becoming mistrustful of the multitude of videos and photographs of melting polar caps and shrinking glaciers? When combined with the decreased trust in authority figures, scientists and their technical graphs and diagrams don't stand much of a chance of acceptance without a fair amount of suspicion. As mentioned, it's difficult to understand the subtleties inherent in much of science when you are running at breakneck speed just to stand still; slogans and comforting platitudes are much more acceptable - unless of course people become caught up in the outcome themselves.

However, this doesn't explain why it is the key phrases such as 'climate change' and 'global warming' generate such negative sentiment, even from those Australian farmers who admit to hotter, drier conditions than those experienced by their parents' and grandparents' generations. Somehow, these sober terms have become tainted as political slogans rather than scientifically-derived representations of reality. That this negativity has been achieved by deniers seems incredible, when you consider that not only does it run counter to the vast majority of report data but that it comes from many with vested interests in maintaining current industrial practices and levels of fossil fuel usage.

Could it simply be a question of semantics, with much-used labels deemed unacceptable at the same time as the causes of directly-experienced effects accepted as valid? If so, it would suggest that our contemporary technological society differs little from the mindset of pre-industrial civilisation, in which leaders were believed to have at very least a divine right to rule, or even a divine bloodline. In which case, is it appalling to suggest that the terrible bush fires have occurred not a minute too soon?

If it is only by becoming victims at the tip of the impending (melted) iceberg that global warming is deemed genuine, then so be it. When scientists are mistrusted and activists labelled as everything from misguided to corrupt and scheming manipulators, this might only leaves a taste of what lies ahead to convince a majority who would otherwise rather keep doing as they always have done and trust politicians to do the thinking for them. I can think of nothing more apt to end on than another Carl Sagan quote: "For me, it is far better to grasp the Universe as it really is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying and reassuring."

Our family and other animals: do we deliberately downplay other species' intelligence?

I recently heard about a project investigating canine intelligence, the results being that man's best friend can distinguish similar-sounding words, even if spoken by strangers. Yet again, it appears there is a less and less that makes our species unique: from the problem-solving skills of birds to social insects' use of farming techniques we find ourselves part of a continuum of life rather than standing alone at the apex.

Reading the Swedish philosopher Nick Bostrom's thought-provoking book Superintelligence, I was struck by his description of the variation of human intellect (from as he put it, Einstein to the village idiot) as being startling narrow when compared to the potential range of possible intelligences, both biological and artificial.

The complexity of animal brains has been analysed by both quantitive and qualititive methods, the former dealing with such measurements as the number of neurons while the latter looks at behaviour of members of a species, both in the wild and under laboratory conditions. However, a comparison of these two doesn't necessarily provide any neat correlation.

For example, although mammals are generally - and totally incorrectly - often described as the pinnacle of creation due to their complex behaviour and birth-to-adult learning curve, the quantitive differences in neural architecture within mammals are far greater than those between amphibians and some mammalian families. In addition, there are many birds, mostly in the Psittacidae (parrot) and Corvidae (crow) families, that are both quantitatively and qualitatively superior to most mammals with the exception of some primates.

I think it was the essays of evolutionary biologist Stephen Jay Gould that introduced me to the concept of EQ or encephalisation quotient, which is a label for the brain-mass to body-mass ratio. On these terms, the human brain is far larger than nearly all other species with a similar sized body, the exception (perhaps not surprisingly) being dolphins.

However, it's difficult to draw accurate conclusions just from examination of this general trend: both the absolute size of the brain and neuron density play a fundamental role in cognitive powers. For example, gorillas have a lower EQ that some monkeys, but being a large ape have a far greater brain mass. It could be said then, that perhaps beyond a certain mass the absolute brain size renders the EQ scale of little use. A 2009 study found that different rules for scaling come into play, with humans also having a highly optimal use of the volume available with the cranium, in addition to the economical architecture common among primates.

As historian and philosopher Yuval Noah Harari has pointed out, the development of farming, at least in Eurasia, went hand in hand with the evolution of sophisticated religious beliefs. This led to a change in human attitudes towards the other animals, with a downplay of the latter's emotional needs and their categorisation as inferior, vassal species in a pre-ordained (read: divinely-given) chain of being.

By directly connecting intelligence - or a lack thereof - to empathy and emotions, it is easy to claim that domesticated animal species don't mind their ruthless treatment. It isn't just industrial agriculture that makes the most of this lack of empathy today; I've seen small sharks kept in a Far Eastern jewellery store (i.e. as decoration, not as future food) in tanks barely longer than the creature's own body length.

Although the problem-solving antics of birds such as crows are starting to redress this, most people still consider animal intelligence strictly ordered by vertebrate classes, which leads to such inaccuracies as the 'three second goldfish memory'. I first noticed how incorrect this was when keeping freshwater invertebrates, namely shield shrimp A.K.A. triops, almost a decade ago. Even these tiny creatures appear to have a range of personalities, or perhaps I should say - in an effort to avoid blatant anthropomorphizing - a wide variety of behaviour.

Now on the verge of setting up a tropical aquarium for one of my children, I've been researching what is required to keep fish in fairly small tanks. I've spoken to various aquarium store owners and consulted numerous online resources, learning in the process that the tank environment needs to fulfill certain criteria. There's nothing in usual in this you might think, except that the psychological requirements need to be considered alongside the physical ones.

For example, tank keepers use words such as 'unhappy' and 'depression' to describe what happens when schooling fish are kept in too small a group, active swimmers in too little space and timid species housed in an aquarium without hiding places. We do not consider this fish infraclass - i.e. teleosts - to be Einsteins (there's that label again) of the animal kingdom, but it would appear we just haven't been observing them with enough rigour. They may have minute brains, but there is a complexity that suggests a certain level of emotional intelligence in response to their environment.

So where does all this leave us Homo sapiens, masters of all we survey? Neanderthal research is increasingly espousing the notion that in many ways these extinct cousins/partial ancestors could give us modern humans a run for our money. Perhaps our success is down to one particular component of uniqueness, namely our story-telling ability, a product of our vivid imagination.

Simply because other species lack this skill doesn't mean that they don't have any form of intellectual ability; they may indeed have a far richer sense of their universe than we would like to believe. If our greatest gift is our intelligence, don't we owe it to all other creatures we raise and hold captive to make their lives as pleasant as possible? Whether it's battery farming or keeping goldfish in a bowl, there's plenty we could do to improve things if we consider just what might be going on in the heads of our companion critters.