Scientific Nomenclature: Advice for Early Career Scientists

This post is inspired by my good friend and fellow scientist Graeme T. Lloyd. In a conversation today he brought up a great idea for all academia: the idea that a researcher could choose a unique name when they began publishing, much like an actor chooses a stage name. As I considered the idea I began to imagine that the thoughts and feelings of an aspiring academic as they moved through career stages. In particular, from the perspective of someone seeking a new moniker on their way to achieving their mad scientist goals.

Stage 1: Undergraduate / Masters
You are compelled to choose something unique and memorable so people will recognize your great potential.

Stage 2: Doctorate
Having developed a dark sense of humor after several years of grad school, you decide to choose a truely mad scientist name.

SPECIAL NOTE: As this is the career point in which most scientists start publishing, this usually becomes a scientist's permanent Stage Name

Stage 3: Post Doctorate
You wish you had named yourself after someone famous to reflect your great ambition. Then maybe you would have a job.

Stage 4: Tenure Track
Woohoo, you are on track! If only you had picked a more average name to ensure you blend in and continue on the track.

Stage 5: Tenure

Your feelings about your name are influenced by the success of your career. If I your h-index exceeds your IQ you are prolifically published, well respected, and you are proud of your name choice. If however, you are confined to the basement of the Ivory Tower, your self pitying ego convinces you that your poor name choice early in career is the reason you toil in obscurity. It is the also the reason for your colleague's hidden smirks, post-doc whisperings and undergraduate giggles at the the conferences you attend.

Don't stay up all night trying to decide on your scientific name, tune in next time to learn about the method to the madness!

Arrogant scientist to represent all of humanity

American paleontologist Edward Drinker Cope, died on 12 Apr 1897.

Cope is best remembered for his rivalry with O.C. Marsh, called the Great Bone Wars; he also led many great expeditions into the American West and was prolific in the naming of dinosaur species.

When a new species of dinosaur (or any other organism for that matter) is discovered, scientists choose a holotype specimen, this is an example of the new species that will forever define it. Usually it is the first example found, for example, the holotype for T. rex was collected by Barnum Brown in 1902 and is housed at the Carnegie Museum of Natural History in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. It is important to remember that a holotype is usually the first example of a new species and it is not necessarily the best or typical example (although ideally it should be). Sometimes when a new species is found and the holotype named, there are only very poor or fragmentary examples available. But it is the practice that even if a better specimen is subsequently found, the holotype is not superseded.

But back to our story now, which began back in 1735 with Swedish botanist named Carolus Linnaeus. Linnaeus was fascinated by the diversity of life around him and became obsessed with categorizing it. This is very difficult to do since there are millions of species in the world but Linnaeus went about it in a very systematic way. He devised a hierarchical system for categorizing plants, animals and minerals. Interestingly, he named, described and classified human beings as a part of this system. He named humans Homo sapiens, Latin for man and wise. The concept of a holotype had not been invented yet but the humble Linneaus did consider himself to be the best example of Homo sapiens.

Then in 1897, an equally humble scientist, Edward Drinker Cope died. In his will, Cope had a final request: that his remains be used as the holotype specimen for Homo sapiens. However, Cope’s dream did not materialize. His brain was saved and preserved in a jar for future study at the Anthropometric Society. But unfortunately, when his skeleton was stripped and cleaned, taxonomists found evidence of incipient syphilis in Cope's bones, a discovery that led his suceedors to deem his remains “unsuitable” to be the type specimen for humanity. His bones were discreetly filed away and perhaps even conveniently ‘lost’ for almost 100 years.

Then in 1991, while working on a story, National Geographic photographer Louie Psihoyos discovered Cope's bones stored at the Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology at the University of Pennsylvania. Psihoyos borrowed the bones to use in his story and while out in the Western United States, he showed the bones to palaeontologist Robert Bakker who was a great admirer of Cope. Bakker began a mission to fulfill Cope’s last request: that his remains be used designated the type specimen of Homo sapiens. Bakker published his description in the Journal of the Wyoming Geological Society.

Unfortunately, Bakker and Psihoyo's efforts were not successful and Cope's remains are unlikely to receive official status for a variety of reasons: the standards for type specimens are very strict and complex and not only do Cope’s bones bear marks of syphilis, they have also suffered damage from their travels: his skull has been dropped, broken and even repaired.

To make the situation more complicated, in 1959, another palaeontologist wrote a paper declaring Carolus Linneaus the holotype of Homo sapiens, especially as his body is well-preserved in the Cathedral in Uppsala, Sweden. Well since nobody can agree, the job still remains open and there is no official holotype for humanity, but is it likely that when (if) a holotype is chosen it will be an arrogant scientist that represents humanity?

Meet Janine...

As I mentioned last week, I will be travelling to India for two weeks, during which time my colleague, Janine Kavanagh, has graciously agreed to fill-in. Janine is a PhD student at the University of Bristol working in the field of volcanology. Her interests include studying the dynamics of kimberlite eruptions, these are ancient volcanoes that can erupt diamonds. Unfortunately there have been no kimberlite eruptions in recorded history, which makes this magma relatively rare, but economically important, a bit tricky to understand.

Some things she will be blogging on include recent volcanic activity in New Zealand, some bizarre festivals that you might like to attend this year, an "ode to purple", and there will even be a "mystery volcano" of which you can try and guess the name and location. Who could resist?