Silent no longer
Taxonomists speak out as experts and species disappear, challenging policymakers and legislators to take action
As DNA-based studies garner most funding for systematic biology; as natural history museums fail to grow collections in proportion to the species extinction crisis underway; as taxonomic courses are purged from college curricula; and, as our last chance to inventory life on earth—in order to understand and document both the results of evolutionary history and the organization of the biosphere—slips through our fingers, we hear little of the profound consequences of continued neglect of taxonomy and natural history collections. With so much to lose; so little time to explore our planet; so few options with which to prepare for radical environmental change; no second chance to explore our evolutionary roots; so little guidance for conserving the most species diverse biosphere possible; and so few institutional leaders with the vision or guts to speak out as advocates for a taxonomy that has become misunderstood, maligned and marginalized, we need calls to action now.
A recent paper by Ivan Löbl of the Natural History Museum of Geneva, with colleagues Bernhard Klausnitzer, Matthias Hartmann and Frank-Thorsten Krell is one such clarion call. Entitled “The silent extinction of species and taxonomists—An appeal to science policymakers and legislators,” their paper both identifies reasons for reduced respect and funding of fundamental taxonomic research and proposes common sense steps to address this growing crisis of ignorance about our world’s life forms. Every director of a natural history museum or botanical garden, every dean of a college with biological departments, and every administrator of grant funding should be strapped to a chair and forced to read and contemplate the issues raised in this timely paper. I don’t suggest that Löbl and colleagues have identified all of the problems or solutions, but those they list are incredibly significant and should be listened to and acted upon. I don’t want to steal their thunder by listing all of their suggestions, so I refer you to their paper for details and arguments. I do, however, want to endorse the wisdom of their approach, voice my agreement with virtually all that they say, and plead with decision-makers to pay attention to what they, and the beleaguered community they represent, have to say.
Philippine flies (Diptera: Asilidae and Tabanidae) collected by sailors assigned to the entomology division of the Navy Environmental and Preventive Medicine Unit 6 at Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam. Photo by Mark Logico, U.S. Navy Mass Communication Specialist, 2nd Class. CC BY-SA 3.0
For at least a couple of generations, taxonomy has been in free-fall. Its rigorous theories, developed over centuries and incorporating a conceptual revolution begun in the 1960s, have been exchanged for trendy technology. Its information-rich descriptions traded for expedient DNA barcodes. Intellectually challenging courses of taxonomic study have been substantially displaced by technological training. And natural history museums, formerly undisputed world leaders in the exploration of species, the biosphere and evolutionary history, have been reduced to also-ran, university-style grant mongers enslaved by fads and fashions. The same museums, in an unbecoming bid to appear modern, increasingly distance themselves from the very collections that would give them a competitive edge among institutions confronting the biodiversity crisis, if only they were wise enough to recognize the possibilities; a distancing that is now progressing from figurative to literal as plans unfold to move collections to locations far from the center of their primary operations, thus sending an unmistakable signal of their misguided values.
It is time for such institutions to put the collections in their care to their highest scientific and societal uses, to cash in on the unique advantage they enjoy by virtue of the wealth of knowledge attached to, and extractable from, specimens, and become visionaries who lead a taxonomic renaissance and planetary-scale inventory of species, before the opportunity to do so is lost for all time. As they ignore the responsibilities that they have as keepers of great collections, they endanger the growth of scientific knowledge, diminish the chances for conserving as many and as diverse species as possible, and threaten the number of options available to society to adapt to the fallout from the first mass extinction event in more than sixty million years. When the fantastic scientific potential, and unparalleled societal impact, of collections-based taxonomic research is considered, the lack of understanding, vision, and leadership among natural history museums and botanical gardens is truly shocking. Even more astonishing is a herd mentality that has swept through the museum community like a plague, robbing it of its identity and traditional sense of purpose. Ignoring the incredible information content of collections, and what collections-based institutions can do that is unique and uniquely important, stepping away from collections-based leadership, species exploration, and taxonomic research has become a new and shameful norm for this community of unimaginative conformers.
Any university can set up a molecular lab overnight and become a player in molecular genetics. In contrast, it takes centuries to assemble collections sufficiently representative of species diversity to conduct world-class taxonomy efficiently. But in our cynical times success is measured in dollars rather than in knowledge created or problems solved. Institutions attracting the most money are exhalted at the same time that we deny support or praise to those engaged in the noble and timeless scientific enterprise of documenting, understanding, and classifying the diversity of life.
As taxonomy has been excluded from the curricula of ecologists, geneticists and conservation biologists—and nearly eliminated from introductory biology—the availability of taxonomic knowledge is simply taken for granted with little or no appreciation for the theories and practices involved in its creation or even how one tells reliable taxonomic information from dreck. Sequence data is dumped into computer algorithms, often including questionable assumptions about evolution, and resulting branching diagrams are uncritically accepted as if truth. Even species are treated as though they simply exist to be DNA barcoded; as if credible species are not sophisticated, explicitly testable hypotheses that must be reexamined, over and over, in the light of new evidence. As Forest Gump said, stupid is as stupid does. We ignore the welfare of the theory-, evidence- and intellectually-rich science of systematics at our own peril. And when museums and botanical gardens mimic research universities, it is an act of scientific cowardice that undermines what we ultimately understand about the diversity and history of life on earth, including our own origins, as well as that of every other kind of living thing.
The authors discuss the impacts of disrespecting taxonomy; of putting too much stock in publication impact indices; of valuing technology over quality of evidence; of museums losing sight of their special role in, and obligation to, science; and of increasing restrictions on the ability to collect, preserve and exchange specimens for taxonomic study.
Identifying a species with a DNA barcode is to serious taxonomy as a child solving an addition problem with a pocket calculator is to serious mathematics. The authors document the decline in taxon expertise, even (perhaps especially) in developed countries which express commitments to the conservation of species, most of which have no names and cannot be recognized, much less appreciated for what makes them unique. Such feel good pronouncements are hollow rhetoric when species are not based on testable hypotheses, when they cannot be accurately identified, and when next to nothing is known about them and their attributes, relationships, and distributions.
The authors conclude with a list of simple yet impactful, common-sense suggestions for returning support to taxonomy and reversing our march toward taxonomic idiocy before millions and millions of species disappear, forever unknown to us. We can mitigate negative consequences of mass extinction, but only if we know what species exist and where. We can maximize the diversity of life surviving a mass extinction, but only if we know species and their relationships. We can continue to deepen our understanding of the origin and diversification of life on this amazing planet, but only if we complete a species inventory and preserve evidence of the results of evolution—including the complex and unexpected attributes of species, not just their DNA sequences. And we can adapt to whatever environmental changes and challenges may come through biomimicry, but only if we are armed with knowledge of the diverse attributes of species which are its primary source of inspiration.
More taxonomists must speak out in defense of their science and refuse to be silenced or to go along with fads. More scientists must remind themselves that their quest is knowledge and that technology, no matter how impressive or lucrative, is only a tool, and that no single tool suffices for all that we can or should learn. More leaders of museums must recognize the unique contributions to science and society possible only with collections and insist on their growth, development and use. And more users of taxonomic knowledge and information—from agriculture to ecology, genetics and conservation biology—must become educated about the source of credible taxonomy and become vocal supporters from the outside insisting that taxonomy be supported in its full form and not be restricted to molecular data alone.
Löbl and colleagues have made a bold, straight-forward statement in defense of taxonomy and challenged policy-makers and legislators to step up and play their part in reversing a decline in taxonomy, and collection growth and development, that is already deeply rooted and dangerously advanced. There is no rationale for valuing less knowledge (such as DNA data alone) over more knowledge (specifically, the synthesis of morphological, ontogenetic, paleontological, and molecular data). The rush to abandon the traditions of taxonomy and collections has been fueled by a deluge of money into molecular technology. I am sad to say that the same decision-makers who eagerly cast centuries of taxonomic progress aside to cash in on easy grant money for DNA research will gladly pursue taxonomy’s broader agenda given similar monetary enticements and rewards. While my faith in science wants to believe that we will resurrect taxonomy for the right reasons, I am quite prepared to applaud institutions that suddenly discover that they have an interest in taxonomy and collection development after all, their memory restored by a sudden infusion of cold, hard cash. A few visionary funders—whether government agencies or private foundations— can become the catalyst for a revolution that saves science, humankind, and collections-based institutions from their own worst impulses and failings. I hope that more people join Löbl and his colleagues in speaking out—and that policy-makers and legislators are listening. They may be in the best position to immediately increase the stature of, and support for, taxonomy and collections.
Reference
Löbl, I., Klausnitzer, B., Hartmann, M., and F.-T. Krell. 2023. The silent extinction of species and taxonomists—An appeal to science policymakers and legislators. Diversity 15, 1053, 17 pp.