Here’s an interesting example of Blake’s point about speciation. We have frogs in our back yard, which make quite a racket during the summer. I wanted to know what kind they are, and as it turns out, there are two species that fit the description: Common Gray Tree Frog and Cope’s Gray Tree Frog.
They’re identical in appearance, and their habitat range overlaps a bit, near where we live. But they can’t mate very successfully, because one kind has twice the number of chromosomes as the other. Sometime back, there was one species that got physically separated (possibly by glaciers.) For some reason, one of the populations developed “polyploidy”, with 4 copies of each chromosome rather than the normal two.
The two kinds can mate, but most of the offspring die young and the few adults are often infertile.
There is one distinguishing characteristic: the calls they make are similar but different. Most likely, the call differentiated so that they don’t waste their time and resources mating with the wrong kind. Now that they’re genetically separate, it’s likely that they’ll take different paths on survival strategies, rather than competing for the same ecological niche. That doesn’t happen by foresight, but as an effect of natural selection. One population will benefit from some new gene that helps them at one thing; the other will benefit from a different new gene that helps them at something else.
There are many kinds of plants where, unlike most animals, it’s purely a matter of opinion where one species ends and another begins. Being unable to “mate” (e.g., cross-pollinate) for biological reasons is a clear cut case of different species. But there are plenty of examples where plants could cross-breed but don’t, simply because they’re geographically separated, and they often can look quite different. Whether to call these varieties or species is subject to a lot of debate.
One of the definitions of “species” is that it “fits an ecological niche”. By this theory, two species never occupy the same niche – or at least, they don’t for long. If two varieties occupy a different niche, then they’re considered different species, even though they might interbreed, and especially so if the resulting cross-breed doesn’t fit well in either niche and hasn’t found one of its own.
The point here is that in plants, there is a lot of “smear”, but that “smear” tends to eliminate itself over time (varieties that drift into different niches continue to get more differentiated with successive generations).
With bacteria, it’s nothing but smear. There’s really no good definition of “species” for them, other than the ecological niche one, which allows lots of gray area. Bacteria that are quite unrelated can still exchange DNA, thanks to plasmids, which are small bits of DNA that can migrate easily between kinds of bacteria. In addition, DNA from plasmids can get inserted into the “main” DNA strands for a bacteria.
Life is messy and never quite fits our definitions or into our neat little boxes.