Radiation can have extremely negative effects on an individual. But is it as easy to measure its effects on an entire population? (Image Credit: Hnapel, CC BY-SA 4.0, Image Cropped)
Variation in chronic radiation exposure does not drive life history divergence among Daphnia populations across the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone (2019) Goodman et al., Ecology and Evolution, DOI: 10.1002/ece3.4931
As anyone who has recently watched HBO’s Chernobyl can tell you, large doses of radiation are capable of doing some pretty serious damage to an organism. But whilst examining the effect of radiation on an individual might be simple, monitoring those effects on a population can be difficult. Whilst radiation negatively effects fitness, it can also help individuals with higher radiation tolerance to reproduce and dominate within the population of a single species, making it difficult to monitor the exact effects of radiation on that population. If a population is filled with only those who were strong enough to survive, you don’t get an idea of the variation in the radiation’s effects.
This week’s researchers tried to break through that problem by looking at different populations of a water flea in Chernobyl’s Exclusion Zone (CEZ) – the area still barred from entry in eastern Europe.
Image Credit: ulleo, Pixabay licence, Image Cropped
Natural selection favors a larger eye in response to increased competition in natural populations of a vertebrate (2019) Beston & Walsh, Functional Ecology, doi: 10.1111/1365-2435.13334
Studying the evolution of traits in response to selection pressure often helps us understand why species look and act the way they do. Selection pressure can include the need to find food before other members of your species, or the need to escape predation.
But what happens when improving your ability to obtain resources also means you’re more vulnerable to predation? Which will win out? This paper looks at a small species of freshwater fish, Rivulus hartii, and determines which of the two pressures contributes most to the evolution of the size of their eye.
Fishing is an important part of Australian society. So is communication between fish scientists and fishers strong enough? (Image Credit: State Library of Queensland, Image Cropped)
Last Thursday, I posted an article on the need for more contact communication the fish scientist community and the fishing community, which you can find here. It gives a breakdown of why better communication between the two groups is mutually beneficial, and how it could be improved. The piece was written after talks with a number of prominent Australian fish biologists, whose thoughts I’ve shared in more detail below.
Dragonflies like this Western Pondhawk female are particularly vulnerable to warming due to climate change. (Image Credit: Eugene Zelenko, CC BY-SA 4.0, Image Cropped)
Simulated climate change increases larval mortality, alters phenology, and affects flight morphology of a dragonfly (2018) McCauley et al., Ecosphere, doi:10.1002/ecs2.2151
Climate change is something that we hear about on a daily basis. The dire warnings tend to concern sea levels rising and temperatures varying so much that we have more intense and deadly storms than before, but these are all direct effects of the climate. Another thing that climate change can do is have indirect effects on organisms.
Organisms with complex life cycles spend the juvenile part of their lives in one environment before moving on to the adult stage in another environment. The researchers in this study wanted to know how simulated climate change during the juvenile stage of the organisms lifetime could affect the adult stage.
A release of the formerly endangered Running River Rainbowfish. So how were they brought back from near-extinction? (Image Credit: Karl Moy, University of Canberra, CC BY-SA 4.0, Image Cropped)
We talk a lot about getting the public interested in conservation and ecosystems on Ecology for the Masses, but we’ve rarely talked about how conserving a species is actually accomplished. Where does funding come from? How do you decide which individuals to save? And how do you allow a population room to grow?
In 2015, Peter Unmack was sampling in the Burdekin river system in northern Queensland, Australia, when he noticed an alien population of Eastern Rainbowfish had established in Running River. Specifically a 13km stretch bounded by two gorges, which housed the Running River Rainbowfish, a species distinct to this one stretch. Knowing that the presence of the Eastern Rainbowfish could spell the extinction of the local species, he started a crowdfunding initiative, and essentially saved the Running River Rainbowfish. I spoke to Peter and postgraduate student Karl Moy about the conservation effort.
Spreading of the Australian yabby has led to decreases in other local species. But what happens when these species meet? (Image Credit: Daiju Azuma, CC BY-SA 2.5, Image Cropped)
Insight into invasion: Interactions between a critically endangered and invasive cray fish (2018) Lopez et al., Austral Ecology, doi:10.1111/aec.12654
When we talk about invasive species, often the first thing that pops into our minds are things like feral cats, wild pigs, vicious newcomers that wipe out species or transform vast areas. But often what we focus on less are species which arrive and simply outcompete the locals.
The yabby (Cherax destructor) is one such invader. An Australian species, it has been introduced to new waterways through the country and is now threatening other species, including the Falls Spiny Crayfish (Euastacus dharawalus) in eastern New South Wales, Australia. The introduction of the yabby has resulted in a decreasing habitat range for the crayfish, but what sort of mechanisms are causing this? This experiment aimed to document interactions between the two species.
The Australian government has been throwing around the term Carpageddon for a while now. So why is it a problem? (Image Credit: Ed Dunens, CC BY 2.0, Image Cropped)
I think it’s fair to say that Australian politics can be guilty of a flair for the dramatic from time to time. From the recent spill crisis, to the name-calling that abounds in parliamentary displays, to Bob Katter announcing that he wasn’t wasting time on the marriage equality debate because “every three months a person is torn to pieces by a crocodile in Northern Queensland”, Auspol enjoys the sensational. So when they heard about plans to release a virus into Australian waterways to deal with Australia’s persistent carp problem, of course they named it ‘Carpageddon’. But is this in any way an appropriate title? And why is it such a problem that we use this sort of language to sell scientific endeavours?
Image Credit: Sam Perrin, CC BY-SA 2.0, Image Cropped
As a fish ecologist living in Norway, it’s a joy to be able to travel to Melbourne and interact with the people that are driving forward fish science in my home country. So when I found out that the Australian Society of Fish Biology’s annual conference was taking place 3 days after my first flight home since 2016, I knew it was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.
We’re on the last day of the conference at the moment, and over the next 2 months I’m looking forward to bringing you a number of insights, including interviews with guest speakers Eva Plaganyi and Gretta Pecl and pioneers of intriguing projects like Peter Unmack and Jarod Lyon. I’ll also have a fish edition of The Changing Face of Ecology, and some articles on how the angling community and the fish science community interact in a country with one of the most unique fish assemblages in the world.
Image Credit: TheDigitalArtist, Pixabay licence, Image Cropped
In this series, we’ve looked mostly at species that have been introduced at defined points in time. The Pink Salmon and the Red King Crab were introduced into Russian waters near Norway in the 50s, the Canada Goose was brought to Europe in the 30s, the Sitka Spruce in the late 1800s. But with the onset of climate change, warmer conditions in the Arctic and sub-Arctic mean that the doors will open for more gradual arrivals. So let’s look at how climate change will facilitate the arrival of these newcomers.
Lake Superior, the location of the 9th International Charr Symposium (Image Credit: Environmental Protection Agency, Image Cropped)
This week I’ve been lucky enough to represent NTNU at the 9th International Charr Symposium in Duluth, Minnesota, a conference focussing on one of my focal species in the genus Salvelinus. Conferences are like this are great for soaking in a swathe of alternative perspectives, so I thought I’d share a few thoughts from day one of the symposium, including a sign of success, one of innovation, and another of hope.