More of those damn-ugly coelacanths have been found.

Cecil wrote about the coelacanth last February. Since then, more of the ugliest fish that have ever swam have been found near the northeast coast of South Africa. (Just 'cause they’re fascinating creatures doesn’t make 'em beautiful!) What’s really cool about this latest sighting is that were seen alive in their native habitat. (Previous specimens were those caught in nets or by hook or through the windows of submersibles. This sighting was more direct.) The sighting was at a depth of 320 feet, making it the shallowest find of them all, implying there may be more coelacanths than thought. The diver returned, reported his find and a second expedition was launched, with motion-picture cameras. Three of the fish were found at a depth of 350 feet and filmed. These fish are quite large, ranging from three to six feet in length.

Tragically, one diver lost his life on the ascent.

Holy maracas, jab! I guess I’m the only one who’s excited about this besides you.

Is the video available online yet?

Heck no, fellas!

I haven’t seen any online videos (well, actually, I take that back; I did find one here (click on the “Online Videos” link when you get there), but it’s complete crap - at least on my system. Maybe you folks can get better image quality.

This site shows photos of these marvelous critters in their natural habitat. The ones described here are Indonesian, and have been determined to be a separate species[sup]*[/sup] of coelacanth (separate, that is, from the Comoran population), the two groups apparently splitting about 5.5 mya.

[sup]*[/sup]Latimeria menadoensis - it seems that some French wildcatters got hold of a tissue sample and named the critter under suspicious circumstances before its discoverer could do so; unfortunately, it appears the name will stick.

Correcting an error:

Catching a fish through the window of a submersible would be a really neat trick. But probably a fatal one.

Thanks, Mauve Dog.

Man oh man, I’d give my right arm to dive with a coelacanth.
The videos were pretty crappy. I’ll keep my eyes open for a National Geographic special.

We could start a betting pool to see how many days before a GD thread shows up claiming that the coelacanth disproves evolution…

There was a theory that populations of Coelacanths would be found in places where the ocean fell away from islands very rapidly to massive depths but that thse populations would be so isolated from each other that there would be no contact between them.

A couple of articles I saw speculated that island volcanoes were the likliest places and suggested a few possible sites.
Looks like there is some truth in it.

If it is true about the isolation of populations then it is likely that they have been so for perhaps millions of years.It might be interesting to see if there are any differances between them.

“Latimeria menadoensis - it seems that some French wildcatters got hold of a tissue sample and named the critter under suspicious circumstances before its discoverer could do so; unfortunately, it appears the name will stick.”

Nothing unfortunate - them’s the rules. There is something called “The International Code of Zoological Nomenclature” and there’s nothing in those rules about having to be ethical when you coin a new name - it just has to be published in hard copy and deposited in major libraries, or on a CD that explicitly states which major libraries contain copies of the CD. The only way the name would not stick, therefore, is if the author failed to meet those criteria (a situation which happens with increasing frequency as amateurs try to “publish” new species electronically).

BTW, Doug, correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe the the International Code of Zoological Nomenclature has just been tightened up, as of Jan. 2000. You now have to actually say you intend to describe a new species, and designate a type specimen, which you didn’t before. I don’t know if the French team did that for the coelacanth or not, but prior to this January you didn’t have to. The Gunnison Sage-Grouse “accidently” received its scientific name be having its picture published in a textbook a couple of years before the formal description was published (this year).

I am aware of the rules. And it is unfortunate. In case you missed the story I linked to, here is a passage:

Whether there is a requirement for ethics in the rules does not mean that all is well if they are ignored. Note also that the description of the specimen itself was in error; a description or definition which differentiates between species has been required since around 1930. A holotype has also been required since 1996, as near as I can determine.

There are definitely rules, but the individuals who established the L. menadoensis name were not playing by them. But because they did publish, albeit with erroreous information, the name will stick.

I’m pretty certain that’s not so; that particular rule was changed in January 2000, as I said.

The Gunnison Sage-Grouse Centrocercus minimus “accidently” received its official scientific name in 1998, when a photo was published on the cover of the textbook Principles of Animal Behavior by Jack Bradbury and Sandra Vehrencamp. The caption to the cover photo mentions the scientific name. Otherwise there is only a fairly brief mention in two pages in the text describing a few plumage and display differences from Greater Sage-Grouse C. urophasianus, plus a couple more photos and graphs. No holotype is designated, and no specific diagnostic characters are cited. There is no indication that the authors intended to describe a new species. The new scientific name is not even mentioned in the text, only in the cover caption. (I have the book in front of me.) As “Bradbury and Vehrencamp” appear as the authors for the species name in the latest update of the American Ornithologist’s Union Checklist (2000), I presume the description was valid at the time.

The actual formal species description, by the people who have been researching this for the past eight years, is slated to appear in the Wilson Bulletin this month. But they will have to stick with Bradbury and Vehrencamp’s name, regardless of what they actually wanted to call it. My guess is that Bradbury and Vehrencamp (or more likely the book editor) made an honest error that they now are very embarassed over. They possibly thought the name had already been published, or perhaps it was scheduled to be published before the book but was rejected and had to be revised.

Prior to January, basically all you had to do was (1) propose a valid scientific name; essentially that meant one that had never been used before; (2) indicate some way that the species could unambiguously be distinguished from its closest relatives; and (3) “publish” the information, which essentially means to make it widely available. (I am simplifying greatly.) This year’s reforms, I believe, require that the author also indicate that (s)he intends to describe a new species, and also designate a type specimen. “Publication” solely on a web site is no longer considered valid.

Unfortunately I am unable to provide a link to the International Code of Zoological Nomenclature, because the organization that publishes it does not have it on their website, and in fact they seem to have forced several other organizations to remove it from theirs by threatening copyright infringement.

Because Pouyard published his article in 1999, he would have been able to get away without designating a type specimen. If he tried it now, the name would probably be declared a nomen nudem, that is permanently invalid, and the original researchers would be able to redescribe it under whatever name they chose (but not the one Pouyard had used.)

While I don’t want to speak for Doug, I think he meant that because Pouyard’s description fell within the technical rules for species description as they were in effect at the time, that name must be accepted. Certainly his behavior, if it was as described, fell outside the less formal “rules” of accepted practice, but these are just a professional courtesy. They have no effect on judging whether a name can be accepted or not.

“The Gunnison Sage-Grouse Centrocercus minimus “accidently” received its official scientific name in 1998, when a photo was published on the cover of the textbook Principles of Animal Behavior by Jack Bradbury and Sandra Vehrencamp. The caption to the cover photo mentions the scientific name. Otherwise there is only a fairly brief mention in two pages in the text describing a few plumage and display differences from Greater Sage-Grouse C. urophasianus, plus a couple more photos and graphs. No holotype is designated, and no specific diagnostic characters are cited. There is no indication that the authors intended to describe a new species. The new scientific name is not even mentioned in the text, only in the cover caption. (I have the book in front of me.) As “Bradbury and Vehrencamp” appear as the authors for the species name in the latest update of the American Ornithologist’s Union Checklist (2000), I presume the description was valid at the time.”

According to the Code in effect in 1998, a published name is not available (and cannot be valid) unless it is “accompanied by a statement that purports to give characters differentiating the taxon”. If, as you say, the text is “describing a few plumage and display differences”, then it’s probably enough to satisfy that condition, but it could certainly be submitted formally to the ICZN for review, and I would expect some chance of them ruling against it, if only because the “description” and the new name are in different parts of the text (that’s a no-no!). Definitely a judgment call, but I think they could sink that name if they wanted it sunk.

“Prior to January, basically all you had to do was (1) propose a valid scientific name; essentially that meant one that had never been used before; (2) indicate some way that the species could unambiguously be distinguished from its closest relatives; and (3) “publish” the information, which essentially means to make it widely available. (I am simplifying greatly.) This year’s reforms, I believe, require that the author also indicate that (s)he intends to describe a new species, and also designate a type specimen.
“Publication” solely on a web site is no longer considered valid.”

There was (and still is) also a requirement that publication cannot be anonymous, nor conditional (e.g.“If someone finds out that critter X is a separate species from critter Y, then I propose the name Xus xus for it”). Otherwise, yeah, that’s the basics. It still sucks that there are no formal requirements either that the holotype must be in a collection accessible to the public, or that the description must be peer-reviewed to prevent totally fraudulent descriptions. If I wanted to, I could take 500 monarch butterflies, and make each one the holotype of a new species, write a little description of each, and publish it privately on a CD-ROM (sent to five major libraries), and POOF! they’d all be valid species names; I could also refuse anyone access to the specimens, and therefore prevent anyone from proving that they were in fact all monarch butterflies. Those are two lousy loopholes to leave open; fiascoes like Pouyard’s would not occur were such rules in place.

The “official” description of Gunnison Sage-Grouse in the Bradbury and Vehrencamp text, in its entirety, consists of:

The cover photo of the grouse, with the caption on the copyright page:

“FRONT COVER: Male Gunnison sage grouse (Centrocercus minimus) strutting, Gunnison, Colorado. Unique features of this visual and acoustic display were the original clues used in the identification of this isolated population as a distinct species of sage grouse (see pages 769-770).”

p. 769. . . ."If low-quality males pay a greater cost for a given level of display, the conditions are set for honest signaling. Sage grouse (Centrocercus urophasianus) appear to fit this model well (Figure 23.9). . .

p. 770. Figure 23.9 [pictures of the two forms and a diagram contrasting their calls and displays]. Sexually selected traits in sage grouse. (A) Male sage grouse from the main contiguous Mono-to-Jackson populations possess several sexually dimorphic plumage and behavioral traits, including the enlongated tail, head plumes, esophageal sacs for production of the pop sounds, and white chest patch with stiff feathers for wing swish sounds. (B) Males of the isolated Gunnison sage grouse have longer head plumes, more white tail spots, and exaggerated tail quiver during the strut display, and give more pops during the display. . .

That’s it. Apparently this was enough for the American Ornithologist’s Union to recognize Bradbury and Vehrencamp as the authors of the name. I would think the actual researchers would have some grounds to dispute it, it they chose to.

Another recent case was the publication last year by National Geographic of a photo of a fossil of a supposed bird-dinosaur intermediate that referred to it by the name Archeaoraptor somegodforsakendesertinchinaicantrememberthenameofensis
in the caption. The researchers were supposed to publish the formal description in a journal previous to the appearance of the article, but the paper was rejected, so that NG ended up publishing first. As it turns out, the fossil is a hoax (by the Chinese peasant who found it, not by the scientists, who were duped), in which the tail of a small dinosaur has been glued onto an authentic fossil of a primitive bird. So as far as I can see the name would be a nomen nudem since it is impossible to determine which half of the fossil the name is supposed to apply to. But this was only a small part of the flak that NG caught over the whole fiasco.

NG has been getting on my nerves more and more lately.
While it’s possible that is because of my own festering
curmudgeonliness, I’d still like to read more details of
any flak aimed in their direction.

Please do tell. (Or maybe post a link or two?)

  • jam

Sorry, as I’m not posting from my home or office at the moment, and don’t have much time, I can’t look up the issue. However, NG itself was sufficiently embarassed that they felt obligated to come clean and publish an account the whole saga of how they, and the scientists, were duped by this fraudulent fossil. It was published in NG within the last few months. It’s a rather instructive tale of arrogance on the part of the scientists, incredible miscommunication between all parties, and unseemly haste to score a “scoop” on the part of NG. But really, NG had no one to blame but themselves, because there is really no excuse to publish this sort of thing before it has been peer reviewed.

When I have more time I will try get the actual reference for you, unless you find it yourself. But it’s in a recent issue of NG, so it should be very easy to find.

Okay, got it. It’s on page 128 of the October 2000 issue.
(The original article appeared in the November 1999 issue.)

  • jam