The power of real

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Of all the questions that curious children ask about specimens in the Museum, the most frequent by far is ‘Is it real?’. It’s a surprisingly complex question, mixing ideas of authenticity with more basic confusion over whether something is, was, or wasn’t ever alive.

So what do children make of all the weird and wonderful things on display in museums and how does it affect their experiences? Research by psychologist Dr Louise Bunce aims to find out, as she explains here…

If you want to know when dinosaurs roamed the Earth, or how bees extract nectar from a flower, or what meteorites are made of, what would you do to find out? Search the web perhaps? The answers to all these questions, and many more besides, can be found on the internet, so why visit a museum instead to learn about the natural world?

Example animal used in the research - Oryctolagus cuniculus and the toy rabbit
A taxidermy rabbit (Oryctolagus cuniculus), used in the research in the Museum…

Despite the wealth of information available online, the objects in museums continue to captivate visitors and offer something that the internet can’t. There’s something about ‘the real’ that has a certain power. Standing close to, and sometimes even touching, the genuine article – whether that be the head of a Dodo, or a painting by a Dutch Master, or a fossilised dinosaur skeleton – can induce goose bumps in museum visitors. But where does this potent effect come from?

... and a soft toy rabbit. Even younger children know the toy rabbit is not 'real'.
… and a soft toy rabbit. Even younger children know the toy rabbit is not ‘real’.

To begin to look at this question I have studied the importance and understanding of the ‘real’ in children visiting museums. When do children develop an understanding that they are looking at the real thing as opposed to a copy or model?

I conducted research with children visiting the Oxford University Museum of Natural History to see whether they understood that displays are of genuinely real animals, not manufactured models or replicas. And if they think they are models, how does that affect their experience?

The results were quite striking. Most 4- to 5-year-olds believed that the animals on display were not real because they were not moving, or because they were not alive. Consequently their reaction was somewhat dismissive.

A child participating in the research at the Museum
A child participating in the research at the Museum

In contrast, most older children, those from the age of around 8 years, said that the animals were real because, for example, they had the real animal’s fur, or other authentic features. These children were also more curious about the animals because they were more likely to ask a question about the displays than children who perceived the specimens as not real.

So if younger children were missing out on the power of the real, I wondered whether there was something we could do to help them. I repeated the experiment but this time introduced children to toy animals and asked them to compare them to the museum animals. Now the majority of 4- to 5-year-olds seemed to gain a sense of awe because they perceived the museum animals as genuinely real in comparison to the toys, which they knew were not real.

These experiments seem to indicate that children do not necessarily perceive museum objects in the same ways as adults, but that we can help to give them meaningful encounters with museum specimens to create an inspiring museum visit. So don’t just Google it – grab the kids, a cuddly toy prop, and get down to the museum – or indeed out into nature – to be inspired by the real.

Steven’s Christmas spiders

by Steven Williams, Oxford Brookes University research student

Described by A.G. Butler in 1873 as ‘the most gorgeously coloured spider in this genus’, Gasteracantha scintillans, with its metallic green iridescent abdomen, is the first of my Christmas Spiders.

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Spiky and sparkly: Gasteracantha scintillans

The beautiful colour of the abdomen certainly has a very festive feel and it would not be out of place next to a bauble on a Christmas tree; at least not in my house. This species and the other closely-related metallic Thorn Spiders are currently only found on the Solomon Islands.

Christmas Island, in the Indian Ocean, is one of the locations where my second Christmas spider, Austracantha minax, can be found. Although not as striking as the metallic green of Gasteracantha scintillans, the layout of the abdominal spines on this spider almost give it the appearance of a star – perfect for the top of a Christmas tree, no?

Austracantha minax: starry, and found, amongst other places, on Christmas Island
Austracantha minax: starry, and found, amongst other places, on Christmas Island

The common name of ‘Christmas Spider’ is attributed to this species because in areas of Western Australia it is associated with the arrival of Christmas as the males reach maturity in mid-December and females in January.

Did you know that there is also an Eastern European folk tale of how tinsel came to be included in Christmas tree decorations? The legend tells of how spiders spun cobwebs on a poor family’s undecorated Christmas tree overnight. In the morning the webs turned to gold and silver and the family never lived in poverty again. So when you put the tinsel on the tree this year you could imagine you are a spider spinning a web!

With that spidery festive thought, have a very Merry Christmas from everyone at the Museum!

Solving a prickly mystery…

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by Mark Carnall, Life Collections manager

Visitors to the Museum often comment on just how many things there are to see here, but in fact only a small percentage of the collection is on public display – less than 0.1%. The remaining 99.9% is held in storage for use in research, teaching and to loan to other museums and universities.

I receive hundreds of enquiries from researchers all over the world who are interested in many aspects of animal biology. In exchange for our information about the skeletons, skins, specimens preserved in fluid, nests, shells and taxidermy here, the Museum gets knowledge from world experts who are publishing new science.

Bramble Shark (Echinorhinus brucus)
Bramble Shark (Echinorhinus brucus). Image: Illustrations of South Africa / Wikimedia

One such recent enquiry, from researchers Dr Samuel Iglésias and Frederik Mollen, concerned the Bramble or Spinous Shark (Echinorhinus brucus). You may not have heard of the Bramble Shark – it’s an enigmatic bottom-of-the-sea dwelling species – but this is one of the reasons why the researchers are trying to track down all known specimens held in European institutions.

The characteristic brambles of the Spinous Shark, Echinorhinus brucus
The characteristic brambles of the Spinous Shark, Echinorhinus brucus

Bramble Sharks are so called because of the large thorn-like structures, called dermal denticles, that cover the skin. These sharks are thought to be once common in European waters but are now virtually extinct.

I checked the Museum databases and stores and found 14 Bramble Shark specimens in the collections: one taxidermy specimen; one set of jaws with skin; a section of skin; and 11 fluid-preserved dissections. Unfortunately, as is often the case in older natural history collections, the fluid specimens did not have data associated with them – information such as age, locality, who collected them, what the dissections were or who dissected them.

After passing images and this list of specimens to the researchers they sent through an 1875 paper titled The Brain and Cranial Nerves of Echinorhinosus spinosus with notes on the other viscera by Bruce Clarke and the excellently named Hatchett Jackson. This paper describes the dissection of two specimens at the University of Oxford, one of which was a female collected from Penzance on 15 February 1875.

Armed with this new information I was able to cross-reference this dissection with some of our archives to confirm that most of the dissected specimens actually came from this single female shark collected in 1875, which was dissected and the parts used in illustrations in a technical publication.

Section of skin previously identified as Bramble Shark but now re-identified as from a Porcupine Ray (Urogymnus asperrimus)
Section of skin previously identified as Bramble Shark but now re-identified as from a Porcupine Ray (Urogymnus asperrimus)

Another discovery came while photographing the skin specimen, and comparing it to the other dry specimens. It became clear that the thorns of the skin were very different to the typical Bramble Shark arrangement and it turned out that the skin was in fact from a Porcupine Ray (Urogymnus asperrimus).

The happy ending here is that the researchers now have better information for their publication and these specimens will be put ‘on the map’ in the technical literature for other researchers to access.

Although the Museum collections are effectively one Bramble Shark down (but up one Porcupine Ray skin), we do now have better information about the age, locality, relationship, identification, citation in the literature, and history of some these specimens. This makes them even more useful for research in the future.

Not all enquiries end with such a deeply satisfying result, but it is certainly nice when they do.

Primate tools and the search for human behaviour

This is the second in a short series of articles to accompany the Stone Age Primates temporary display at the Museum, created with the Primate Archaeology group at Oxford University. Here, Dr Tomos Proffitt, Postdoctoral Research Assistant in Primate Archaeology, shows how the use of stone tools by modern primates might connect with our earliest human ancestors.

Over the past five years I have been fortunate enough to work with and study some of the earliest known stone tools, uncovered from archaeological sites at Olduvai Gorge, one of the most famous Palaeolithic archaeological sites on our planet. Olduvai Gorge seemingly appears out of nowhere as you drive down the dirt tracks of the north western slope of the Ngorogoro caldera and national park in Northern Tanzania.

The view from the top of Naibor Soit overlooking Olduvai Gorge. Photo Credit: Tomos Proffitt
The view from the top of Naibor Soit overlooking Olduvai Gorge. Photo Credit: Tomos Proffitt

It is here that the famous Louis and Mary Leakey uncovered evidence which proved that our evolutionary origins extended not thousands, but millions of years into the past, and over the years the site has provided a wealth of animal and early human, or hominin, fossils as well as tens of thousands of examples of the stone tools they made.

Two million years ago if you were sitting where I was in Olduvai, the most noticeable feature would have been a great lake surrounded by vast floodplains, occupied by a range of herbivorous and carnivorous animals taking advantage of the abundant grass, shrubs and fresh water constantly feeding the lake. It is in this setting that you would have found small groups of our hominin ancestors (Homo habilis) standing upright and walking across the floodplains in search of food.

Lake Ndutu located at the south western end of Olduvai Gorge. Early hominins would have occupied a similar lake environment. Photo Credit: Tomos Proffitt.
Lake Ndutu located at the south western end of Olduvai Gorge. Early hominins would have occupied a similar lake environment. Photo Credit: Tomos Proffitt.

As a large part of my research involved closely studying and analysing the stone tools used by the hominins who once lived in this landscape my thoughts turned to how these individuals would have used tools for the different tasks they faced.

Once this hominin group had found a partially eaten carcass, possibly that of a Deinotherium (an extinct ancestor of the modern day elephant), they would have set about trying to make the most of this valuable resource.

By using quartz flakes with extremely sharp cutting edges, made by striking a quartz block with a round hammerstone cobble, they would have been able to cut the small scraps of meat that were still attached to areas of the carcass untouched by other predators, such as lions, hyenas, wild dogs and vultures. The hominins, would, however, also have been very interested in the leg bones because they contained an incredibly nutritious food source than not many other animals could easily get to – the bone marrow.

Examples of quartz anvils used by early hominins at Olduvai Gorge. Photo Credited to Mora and de la Torre, 2005.
Examples of quartz anvils used by early hominins at Olduvai Gorge. Photo Credited to Mora and de la Torre, 2005.

After butchering the animal they would have carried the meat and bones back to another group, some of whom had been collecting various nuts and roots and were now busy preparing them to be eaten. They would be cracking open the nuts and pulverising the roots on a large flat quartzite anvil using rounded hammerstones. The group that had just arrived would have used the same tools to carefully open the elephant leg bones to access the marrow inside. A whole range of dynamic food gathering, eating, sharing, learning, teaching, tool making, communicating behaviour was taking place at this location.

Fast forward 2 million years: since that original meal, the site has been repeatedly buried in sand and sediment and eroded by flowing water and the only thing that remains from this location of vibrant activity and of the lives of these hominins are a few fossilised bones and a small collection of fragmented and broken stones. This is the type of material we were excavating in 2015.

Archaeologists use a range of methods to try and understand how stone tools were used and some of the most powerful insights can be gained through observing how stone tools are used today.

Chimpanzees using both a hammerstone and anvil to crack open nuts. Photo Credit: Haslam et al, 2009
Chimpanzees using both a hammerstone and anvil to crack open nuts. Photo Credit: Haslam et al, 2009.

Transport yourself now to a small forest clearing in western Africa, where a group of our closest living relatives, chimpanzees, are quietly sitting underneath a number of nut- and fruit-bearing trees. This group is taking advantage of these important food sources, and is doing so by using stone anvils and stone hammers not too dissimilar from the group of hominins at Olduvai Gorge, two million years earlier.

A hammerstone used by a capuchin, on display in the Museum
A hammerstone used by a capuchin, on display in the Museum

But it is possible to directly observe the chimpanzee behaviour, recording how the tools are being made and used, what waste is being produced, the learning processes going on between infant and adult, and the range of social interactions that are happening. This modern primate behaviour represents a valuable window into the types of activities that some of our earliest hominin ancestors may have also undertaken.

The Stone Age Primates exhibit at the Museum showcases these types of stone tools and how they are used by modern primates. By closely studying how our closest living primate ancestors, including chimpanzees, capuchins and macaques, make, use and discard stone tools it is becoming increasingly possible to better understand the dynamic range of early human behaviours behind similar types of hammers and anvils found at Olduvai Gorge and other East African archaeological sites.

On a dung beetle’s trail

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Thanks to the work of our Head of Life Collections Darren Mann, and the Dung Beetle UK Mapping Project team, the conservation status of the UK’s dung beetles, chafers, and stag beetles (Scarabaeoidea) is currently undergoing a comprehensive review.

Contributing to this effort, Jack Davies, one of our summer interns, has been on the trail of a species that has proven to be particularly rare in the UK…

Aphodius lividus
Aphodius lividus

I am on the hunt for Aphodius lividus, a dung beetle with a truly cosmopolitan distribution, being found across most of the globe, but which is rather rare in Britain. Since 1990 it has been recorded at only six sites, though historical accounts suggest it was more common in the past.

Most of these historic records are from the south east of England, particularly Kent and the London area, but there are several geographically isolated records from across England and Wales too. So might A. lividus, whilst being extremely local, actually be widespread across the UK?

During my time at the Museum I have been contributing to a comprehensive review of this species’ distribution by helping to verify these records. This has involved a thorough search of collections, journals and the Museum archives, a process which revealed that many of the recordings of A. lividus were almost certainly erroneous.

We were able to discount the only two Welsh records, as well as single records from Cheshire, Leicestershire and Lincolnshire. Our reasons for doing so included a lack of supporting evidence, the unreliability of certain collectors, and the confirmed misidentifications of some specimens.

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Jack Davies working on a collection of Aphodius lividus

The number of known localities for A. lividus decreased further when we realised that three of the reported sites in Kent most probably all refer to the same location. This is a common problem in this type of research, due to the very broad locality names found on Victorian specimen labels.

So it has become clear that this incredibly scarce beetle is even rarer than we first thought. But it’s not all bad news for A. lividus; our research has uncovered reports from localities in Devon and Northumberland in the old literature, which we found to be trustworthy records.

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Map showing the distribution of the dung beetle Aphodius lividus in the UK

All the verified data from the project has been collated to produce this map of the distribution of A. lividus in the UK. Its very local distribution, and the very low number of recent records, confirm that this species should be classified as Vulnerable to Extinction in the UK.

Although it would be a shame to lose this species in Britain, we don’t believe it should be a priority for conservation efforts. Since Aphodius lividus has a strong preference for high temperatures, it’s likely that the UK is simply at the very edge of its range.  It is also a very abundant species in many areas around the world, and it contributes little in terms of ecosystem services in Britain compared to many of our other dung beetles.

So conservation should instead aim to preserve the dung beetle ecosystem as whole, which supports a huge number of species and also brings many benefits to agriculture.

The bully bee

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Young volunteers Genevieve Kiero Watson and Poppy Stanton tell the tale of the Museum’s resident Wool Carder Bee and their investigative bee work in our Life Collections…

A small guardian patrols its territory among the luscious bed of Lamb’s-ears that grow at the front of the Museum. This feisty critter, the Wool Carder Bee (Anthidium manicatum), is just one of the roughly 270 bee species that buzz around Britain. Having spotted this unusual hovering bee we seized the opportunity to identify, photograph and explore the species a little further.

The male of this solitary bee species is fiercely territorial, fighting off other males as well as any other insects it considers to be intruders. Techniques used in combat vary from skilful aerial hovering to ferocious wrestling. But perhaps its greatest weapon is a series of stout spines found at the tip of the abdomen. These are used to bully an intruder into submission, or even to kill it. In so doing, the male protects the precious supply of pollen for the smaller females which in turn collect it on stiff bristles on the undersides of their abdomens.

Females, being slightly less aggressive, are in charge of constructing the nests, which are built in existing cavities such as beetle holes. Hairs shaved off plants, such as the favoured Lamb’s-ear, are used to create the brood cells for the next generation.

Male Wool Carder Bee on Lamb's ear in the Museum's front garden
Male Wool Carder Bee on Lamb’s ear in the Museum’s front garden

The Museum houses many specimens of the Wool Carder Bee and our job was to pull out the data from each one to help with an ongoing online survey about this species. Although making friends with hundred-year-old bees was enjoyable, trying to comprehend the miniscule handwritten labels accompanying them was altogether more trying.

Every label explains where and when the bee was captured, who collected and identified it, and gives the reference for its current collection. All this on a slip of paper no bigger than half a stamp.

One of the Musuem's Wool Carder Bee specimens, circled, featured in a display of all 270 species of British bee in the Bees (and the odd wasp) in my Bonnet exhibition by artist Kurt Jackson
One of the Museum’s Wool Carder Bee specimens, circled, featured in a display of all 270 species of British bee in the Bees (and the odd wasp) in my Bonnet exhibition by artist Kurt Jackson

After recording data from 120 labels we began to find the grid reference of the location each was originally collected. This too was challenging as many place names have changed in the last hundred years. Ultimately, the information will be used by the Bees, Wasps & Ants Recording Society (BWARS) to improve the distribution map for the Wool Carder Bee.

Why not see if you can spot the Wool Carder Bee in your garden? Characteristics to look out for include small spines on the tip of the abdomen and lateral lines of yellow spots on either side of the abdomen. The bees themselves are about 11-13mm long for females, and 14-17mm for males. Good luck!