| Cougar Press PO Box 894 Meadview AZ 86444 |
| Evolution |
It was not a single, simple step from our primeval apelike ancestor, living on fruit and nuts in
the lush forests of ancient days, to the modern human being. The Pleistocene Epoch, lasting
almost two million years, was a rough time. Glaciers and ice sheets advanced and retreated. Vast
areas of the earth became deserts or arid grasslands. The shady jungle, dripping with foodstuffs
that only needed to be picked and eaten, was a scarce environment. Mankind left the trees behind
and learned to walk.
The animals that survived over the vast areas of continents were the ones that could live on
grass, lichen and weeds. They were the ones who could move with the seasons, following the food
and the weather.
The people who survived this era were the ones who could follow the herds. They learned to
protect themselves from the extremes of climate, shielding themselves from heat, cold, wind and
rain with the hides and furs of their prey.
They learned to stand erect so their hands were free to hold tools and weapons.
They learned to kill.
Nobody can predict the path of evolution. Certainly none of the beings who lived ten million
years ago had any idea that anything like what we consider modern reality was in the wings. But
we can see trends, and two of the most important trends in the billions of years of biological
change on planet Earth have been:
the lush forests of ancient days, to the modern human being. The Pleistocene Epoch, lasting
almost two million years, was a rough time. Glaciers and ice sheets advanced and retreated. Vast
areas of the earth became deserts or arid grasslands. The shady jungle, dripping with foodstuffs
that only needed to be picked and eaten, was a scarce environment. Mankind left the trees behind
and learned to walk.
The animals that survived over the vast areas of continents were the ones that could live on
grass, lichen and weeds. They were the ones who could move with the seasons, following the food
and the weather.
The people who survived this era were the ones who could follow the herds. They learned to
protect themselves from the extremes of climate, shielding themselves from heat, cold, wind and
rain with the hides and furs of their prey.
They learned to stand erect so their hands were free to hold tools and weapons.
They learned to kill.
Nobody can predict the path of evolution. Certainly none of the beings who lived ten million
years ago had any idea that anything like what we consider modern reality was in the wings. But
we can see trends, and two of the most important trends in the billions of years of biological
change on planet Earth have been:
The dictionary tells us that the meaning of the word “diverge” is “to move, lie, or extend in
different directions from a common point; branch off.”
Rivers converge. They come together. Little creeks join to become big creeks. Big creeks merge
into little rivers which meet with other little rivers to become big rivers. Eventually all of the
waters of the Earth merge to form the mighty oceans.
Evolution, by and large, follows the opposite course. To be sure, there is some convergence,
especially if we are looking at the process of plant and animal breeding as managed by the
farmers and ranchers of the world. Corn is a good example. The seeds of corn that we plant for
food do not occur by themselves in nature. Various strains or sub-species of corn are selected for
qualities such as improved yield, standability, pest resistance and tolerance. These varieties are
then crossed, and the seeds produced from the cross are crossed again. The resulting hybrids
have all of the desirable characteristics: big, fat ears that resist disease and insects, respond well to
modern agricultural techniques and, perhaps most important, taste good.
However, this effect does not transfer into subsequent generations. If the hybrid corn is dried
and planted, the results will be all over the genetic map. This is divergence, and when left to its
own devices, this is how natural evolution usually progresses.
I could say, this is the path that evolution follows, but it is not one path. It is many. Life seeks
out all of the various available niches. From the tops of the mountains to the depths of the
oceans, any place that can support life will eventually be populated, and probably already is.
The counterbalance to this rampant divergence of life forms is, of course, extinction. Most of
the species that have ever lived on our fair planet are extinct. That there are still so many left
alive, millions we are told, is a tribute to divergence. It’s the scattergun approach to survival: fill
the niches of the world with as many variations as possible, and then let the law of survival of the
fittest weed out all but those most adapted to their particular environment.
Humanity stands out among the species of the world for being high in both divergence and
convergence. (Click here to read “Racial Diversity” by Richard McCulloch.) Unlike most
species, we have come to inhabit nearly every available environmental niche. Hot, cold,
temperate, high, low, wet, dry, coastal, inland, swamp, jungle, forest, slough, prairie, desert,
tundra, ice cap … all of these describe areas where humans can be found.
The isolation of many populated areas has led to a good deal of divergence. However, also
unlike most species, humans get around. Mixing occurs among all of the genetic branches of our
species. This behavior enhances the survival of particular genetic profiles. During the famine in
Ireland, perhaps a million died, but another three million emigrated. Most of the emigrants came
to North American. In spite of the fact that up to 40% of these people died in the crowded
steerage as their ships were crossing the Atlantic, today there are thirty-five million folks with
Irish blood in the United States. By contrast, Ireland itself only has a population of about four
million.
Speculation about the possible results of a few million more years of evolutionary change needs
to keep these factors, divergence and extinction, in mind. We don’t know what will happen.
We’re not really sure what can happen. But more, and more, thanks to the work of science, we
know what did happen.
They tell us that the first mammals emerged a couple of hundred million years ago. These were
small weasel-like animals that lived on bugs and stayed out of the way of the dinosaurs. After
another hundred and fifty million years the dinosaurs suddenly became extinct.
With the big guys out of the way, due to extinction, mammals were free to diverge into many
families and species. Although we all have a common ancestor, that ancient weasel, we have split
into many varieties that include both predators and prey. Rabbits, mice, cattle and deer are
routinely devoured by foxes, cats, wolves and humans, yet we are all mammals.
The dinosaurs ate one another as well, as do the fish, birds and insects. Cannibalism is not
unknown, from the preying mantis who eats her mate, to the male lion who eats his cubs, to the
big fish who eats whatever little fish that he can regardless of their species. But in general
predation occurs between species.
One problem for predators has always been their prey’s tendency to go extinct. Anthropologists
have identified as many as nineteen large North American mammals that disappeared before the
Europeans arrived, and a couple of dozen more that have gone extinct since the sixteenth
century. I’m only speaking of mammals here, warm-blooded creatures who nurse their young.
By the time the colonists got here the wolves and cougars were left with only a handful of large
species to hunt, primarily bison, pronghorns, deer, elk, caribou and moose. There were plenty of
these, to be sure, but the rest had been hunted to extinction, probably by the ancestors of the
natives who were here to greet the European immigrants.
The difficulty for the human being in finding a stable niche is that we are just too good. Any
predator that tries to make regular meals of humans is asking for trouble. We kill creatures like
that. Whether they be tigers, wolves, grizzly bears or cougars, the hunter who hunts mankind
becomes himself the hunted.
However, when we ourselves do the hunting, another problem arises. Our prey goes extinct.
different directions from a common point; branch off.”
Rivers converge. They come together. Little creeks join to become big creeks. Big creeks merge
into little rivers which meet with other little rivers to become big rivers. Eventually all of the
waters of the Earth merge to form the mighty oceans.
Evolution, by and large, follows the opposite course. To be sure, there is some convergence,
especially if we are looking at the process of plant and animal breeding as managed by the
farmers and ranchers of the world. Corn is a good example. The seeds of corn that we plant for
food do not occur by themselves in nature. Various strains or sub-species of corn are selected for
qualities such as improved yield, standability, pest resistance and tolerance. These varieties are
then crossed, and the seeds produced from the cross are crossed again. The resulting hybrids
have all of the desirable characteristics: big, fat ears that resist disease and insects, respond well to
modern agricultural techniques and, perhaps most important, taste good.
However, this effect does not transfer into subsequent generations. If the hybrid corn is dried
and planted, the results will be all over the genetic map. This is divergence, and when left to its
own devices, this is how natural evolution usually progresses.
I could say, this is the path that evolution follows, but it is not one path. It is many. Life seeks
out all of the various available niches. From the tops of the mountains to the depths of the
oceans, any place that can support life will eventually be populated, and probably already is.
The counterbalance to this rampant divergence of life forms is, of course, extinction. Most of
the species that have ever lived on our fair planet are extinct. That there are still so many left
alive, millions we are told, is a tribute to divergence. It’s the scattergun approach to survival: fill
the niches of the world with as many variations as possible, and then let the law of survival of the
fittest weed out all but those most adapted to their particular environment.
Humanity stands out among the species of the world for being high in both divergence and
convergence. (Click here to read “Racial Diversity” by Richard McCulloch.) Unlike most
species, we have come to inhabit nearly every available environmental niche. Hot, cold,
temperate, high, low, wet, dry, coastal, inland, swamp, jungle, forest, slough, prairie, desert,
tundra, ice cap … all of these describe areas where humans can be found.
The isolation of many populated areas has led to a good deal of divergence. However, also
unlike most species, humans get around. Mixing occurs among all of the genetic branches of our
species. This behavior enhances the survival of particular genetic profiles. During the famine in
Ireland, perhaps a million died, but another three million emigrated. Most of the emigrants came
to North American. In spite of the fact that up to 40% of these people died in the crowded
steerage as their ships were crossing the Atlantic, today there are thirty-five million folks with
Irish blood in the United States. By contrast, Ireland itself only has a population of about four
million.
Speculation about the possible results of a few million more years of evolutionary change needs
to keep these factors, divergence and extinction, in mind. We don’t know what will happen.
We’re not really sure what can happen. But more, and more, thanks to the work of science, we
know what did happen.
They tell us that the first mammals emerged a couple of hundred million years ago. These were
small weasel-like animals that lived on bugs and stayed out of the way of the dinosaurs. After
another hundred and fifty million years the dinosaurs suddenly became extinct.
With the big guys out of the way, due to extinction, mammals were free to diverge into many
families and species. Although we all have a common ancestor, that ancient weasel, we have split
into many varieties that include both predators and prey. Rabbits, mice, cattle and deer are
routinely devoured by foxes, cats, wolves and humans, yet we are all mammals.
The dinosaurs ate one another as well, as do the fish, birds and insects. Cannibalism is not
unknown, from the preying mantis who eats her mate, to the male lion who eats his cubs, to the
big fish who eats whatever little fish that he can regardless of their species. But in general
predation occurs between species.
One problem for predators has always been their prey’s tendency to go extinct. Anthropologists
have identified as many as nineteen large North American mammals that disappeared before the
Europeans arrived, and a couple of dozen more that have gone extinct since the sixteenth
century. I’m only speaking of mammals here, warm-blooded creatures who nurse their young.
By the time the colonists got here the wolves and cougars were left with only a handful of large
species to hunt, primarily bison, pronghorns, deer, elk, caribou and moose. There were plenty of
these, to be sure, but the rest had been hunted to extinction, probably by the ancestors of the
natives who were here to greet the European immigrants.
The difficulty for the human being in finding a stable niche is that we are just too good. Any
predator that tries to make regular meals of humans is asking for trouble. We kill creatures like
that. Whether they be tigers, wolves, grizzly bears or cougars, the hunter who hunts mankind
becomes himself the hunted.
However, when we ourselves do the hunting, another problem arises. Our prey goes extinct.
| divergence and extinction |
| Yoga for Carnivores by Jay Dyck |