Author Archives: Georgia

About Georgia

Research and writing on effective altruism, risk, humans, animals, and microbes. Blog @ eukaryotewritesblog.com. I also write at globalriskresearch.org.

The funnel of human experience

[EDIT: Previous version of this post had some errors. Thanks for jeff8765 for pinpointing the error and esrogs in the comments for bringing it to my attention as well. This has been fixed. Also, I wrote FHI when I meant FLI.]

The graph of the human population over time is also a map of human experience. Think of each year as being “amount of human lived experience that happened this year.” On the left, we see the approximate dawn of the modern human species in 50,000 BC. On the right, the population exploding in the present day.

2018_09_19_21:53:07_Selection

It turns out that if you add up all these years, 50% of human experience has happened after 1309 AD. 15% of all experience has been experienced by people who are alive right now.

I call this “the funnel of human experience” – the fact that because of a tiny initial population blossoming out into a huge modern population, more of human experience has happened recently than time would suggest.

50,000 years is a long time, but 8,000,000,000 people is a lot of people.

20181009_155712_Film3

Early human experience: casts of the skulls of the earliest modern humans found in various  continents. Display at the Smithsonian Museum of National History.

 


If you want to expand on this, you can start doing some Fermi estimates. We as a species have spent…

  • 1,650,000,000,000 total “human experience years”
    • See my dataset linked at the bottom of this post.
  • 7,450,000,000 human years spent having sex
    • Humans spend 0.45% of our lives having sex. 0.45% * [total human experience years] = 7E9 years
  • 52,000,000,000 years spent drinking coffee
    • 500 billion cups of coffee drunk this year x 15 minutes to drink each cup x 100 years* = 5E10 years
      • *Coffee consumption has likely been much higher recently than historically, but it does have a long history. I’m estimating about a hundred years of current consumption for total global consumption ever.
  • 1,000,000,000 years spent in labor
    • 110,000,000,000 billion humans ever x ½ women x 12 pregnancies* x 15 hours apiece = 1.1E9 years
      • *Infant mortality, yo. H/t Ellie and Shaw for this estimate.
  • 417,000,000 years spent worshipping the Greek gods
    • 1000 years* x 10,000,000 people** x 365 days a year x 1 hour a day*** = 4E8 years

      • *Some googling suggested that people worshipped the Greek/Roman Gods in some capacity from roughly 500 BC to 500 AD.
      • **There were about 10 million people in Ancient Greece. This probably tapered a lot to the beginning and end of that period, but on the other hand worship must have been more widespread than just Greece, and there have been pagans and Hellenists worshiping since then.
      • ***Worshiping generally took about an hour a day on average, figuring in priests and festivals? Sure.
  • 30,000,000 years spent watching Netflix
    • 14,000,000 hours/day* x 365 days x 5 years** = 2.92E7 years
      • * Netflix users watched an average of 14 million hours of content a day in 2017.
      • **Netflix the company has been around for 10 years, but has gotten bigger recently.
  • 50,000 years spent drinking coffee in Waffle House

So humanity in aggregate has spent about ten times as long worshiping the Greek gods as we’ve spent watching Netflix.

We’ve spent another ten times as long having sex as we’ve spent worshipping the Greek gods.

And we’ve spent ten times as long drinking coffee as we’ve spent having sex.


I’m not sure what this implies. Here are a few things I gathered from this:

1) I used to be annoyed at my high school world history classes for spending so much time on medieval history and after, when there was, you know, all of history before that too. Obviously there are other reasons for this – Eurocentrism, the fact that more recent events have clearer ramifications today – but to some degree this is in fact accurately reflecting how much history there is.

On the other hand, I spent a bunch of time in school learning about the Greek Gods, a tiny chunk of time learning about labor, and virtually no time learning about coffee. This is another disappointing trend in the way history is approached and taught, focusing on a series of major events rather than the day-to-day life of people.

2) The Funnel gets more stark the closer you move to the present day. Look at science. FLI reports that 90% of PhDs that have ever lived are alive right now. That means most of all scientific thought is happening in parallel rather than sequentially.

3) You can’t use the Funnel to reason about everything. For instance, you can’t use it to reason about extended evolutionary processes. Evolution is necessarily cumulative. It works on the unit of generations, not individuals. (You can make some inferences about evolution – for instance, the likelihood of any particular mutation occurring increases when there are more individuals to mutate – but evolution still has the same number of generations to work with, no matter how large each generation is.)

4) This made me think about the phrase “living memory”. The world’s oldest living person is Kane Tanaka, who was born in 1903. 28% of the entirety of human experience has happened since her birth. As mentioned above, 15% has been directly experienced by living people. We have writing and communication and memory, so we have a flawed channel by which to inherit information, and experiences in a sense. But humans as a species can only directly remember as far back as 1903.


Here’s my dataset. The population data comes from the Population Review Bureau and their report on how many humans ever lived, and from Our World In Data. Let me know if you get anything from this.

Fun fact: The average living human is 30.4 years old.

Wait But Why’s explanation of the real revolution of artificial intelligence is relevant and worth reading. See also Luke Muehlhauser’s conclusions on the Industrial Revolution: Part One and Part Two.


Crossposted to LessWrong.

Advertisements

From the Month of Halloween – The Devil’s Hoofprints

UPDATE: I actually posted this to the wrong blog. But I’ll leave it up as a reminder that October has started, and as a taste of what’s happening over at the Month of Halloween 2018 for the rest of the month.  Thanks for your patience!


The story tells of a chilly February morning in 1855. Smoke from the night’s fires puffing up through chimneys. Villagers across the countryside of Southern England woke up to a strange sight: trails of large hoofprints in the thick snow, in single file. These trails crossed the county back and forth, making about a hundred mile journey. The tracks crossed rivers, wound through cities, and most disconcertingly were seen going straight up houses, across the roofs, and going down the other side, without a break. What or who would have left this one-legged gait?

hoofprints.jpg

This text and image is reproduced from Mysteries of the Unexplained, a 1982 publication of The Reader’s Digest Association

This is the first of a few Month of Halloween treats you’ll see drawn from Mysteries of the Unexplained. An early childhood staple of mine (originally making its appearance in my elementary school library), it contains a vast variety of mysterious news reports and anecdotes on a variety of subjects. The concept and some of the entries were borrowed wholesale from Charles Fort, a 1930’s writer who collected such stories as well and knit them together with his own bizarre philosophies. Mysteries of the Unexplained may be less original, but it at least pretends to maintain some objectivity, so there’s that.

(I’ve skimmed over some snippets of Fort’s writing and it reads like 1910’s newspaper journalism mixed with an advertisement for a salt lamp that purifies WiFi – which is to say, delightful.)

So as per everything that comes out of Fort and Mysteries of the Unexplained, I must clarify that this story possibly isn’t real. All of these accounts in this book came from someone and are written down as if infallible, and probably a large number of them were invented wholesale. Or are at least garbled versions of something real. We know that drawings and a description of the event were published in a London newspaper in 1855, and evidence was collected by a vicar in the area around the same time.

It was certainly enough to scare me in middle school. And it’s a good story, right?

Seattle-Oxford Petrov Day 2018

My friend Finan wrote up an account of the 2018 Seattle and Oxford Petrov Day Faux Nuclear Crisis.

Recognizing this, a couple of community members in Seattle whipped up a program to have mutually assured party destruction for Petrov Day. In the game you are told if the other party has launched and given time to retaliate if you so choose. Both parties successfully made it through several false alarms without nuking each other. It could be a testament to our general feelings of well being towards each other, and to lack of real incentive to nuke the other party–aside from protecting your own.

[…]

One of the partygoers in Seattle pressed the launch button at -1 seconds. 1 second past the end time, they were assuming the game was over and enjoying the humor of an actually quite low stakes game. The server and the Seattle computer were slightly out of sync, so although the game appeared over from the Seattle end, it was not according to the server.

“If our extinction proceeds slowly enough to allow a moment of horrified realization, the doers of the deed will likely be quite taken aback on realizing that they have actually destroyed the world. Therefore I suggest that if the Earth is destroyed, it will probably be by mistake. ” – Eliezer Yudkowsky


The “Big Red Button” approach to the day has only been around for the last 3 years, but it’s seen some adoption since. This is notably the first time that the button has been pressed at a party.

Further reading:

More on Petrov Day

There Is A Button

Book review: The Doomsday Machine

This book and the movie Dr. Strangelove are my two recommendations for learning about why you should still be concerned about nuclear war. The Dr. Strangelove post is coming soon. For now, The Doomsday Machine by Daniel Ellsberg:

…is a book about designing the end of the world as we know it, chronologically through Daniel Ellsberg’s career as a nuclear war planner. It’s well written, and Ellsberg makes a compelling hero.

He’s most famous for leaking the Pentagon Papers, government documents on the Vietnam War that contributed to Nixon’s resignation. This book came out of a second set of documents he photocopied and intended to release after his trial for the Pentagon Papers, but lost in an act of nature. Early on, he describes this second planned leak as the one that he fully expected to put him in jail for the rest of his life, and how he felt the loss of those documents as both a tragedy for the nation, and a blessing that allowed him to spend the following decades beside his wife. It’s the kind of thing that makes you glad you’re driving alone when your audiobook is making you tear up in the desert along the Washington-Idaho border.

But all this just helps – the real meat of the book is in the systems he describes.


Let’s talk about nuclear winter real quick. (My favorite line on dates.) Ellsberg puts this at the end, which makes sense chronologically, but it’d be burying the lede for an x-risk focused blog, so let’s get it out there now:

All of our plans for cold war were decided before anyone knew about nuclear winter. I feel like I should capitalize that – Nuclear Winter. It’s the hypothesized event where nuclear explosions cause fired in cities that launch so much ash into the stratosphere that it blots out the sun for months and makes it impossible for plants to grow, killing most human and large animal life. There’s uncertainty around the specifics, but its existence is generally agreed upon in the scientific community.

All US strategy during the early Cold War hinged on this idea of “general war”, an all-out nuclear exchange with Russia and China. General War included dropping enormous nuclear weapons on literally every single city in both Russia and China. Obviously, this is atrocious enough – this level of calamity was expected to kill something like 20% of the world’s population at the time, mostly from fallout.

But every time general war was mentioned, a little voice in my head yelled “nuclear winter!” – that the death toll is actually >90% of humanity, Americans, Russians, Chinese, and everyone else alike, unbeknownst to everybody at the time. My loose impression is that there’s not substantial reason to believe that nuclear war planning policy ever shifted to account for this fact.


Another quick takeaway: the US planned on making the first nuclear strike on Russia and China throughout the Cold War. Today we have a perception that the US only plans for using a second strike, but almost the entirety of planning material is based on the supposition of the US using nuclear weapons first. Again, there’s little reason to suspect this has changed now.


Through this book, I was repeatedly reminded of the Litany of Jai: Almost nobody is evil, almost everything is broken. The problems described in the book aren’t the result of insanity or complete carelessness, but instead a horrifying spider web of incentives, laid unwittingly by people with limited goals and limited knowledge. It’s a sinister net of multipolar traps. If you follow this web down, as Ellsberg does, you find yourself looking into the yawning chasm of a nuclear apocalypse – not built on purpose, but built nonetheless.

Let’s look at how some of these tangled incentives lead us there.


  • Branches of the military want high budgets.
  • Budget decisions are made based on intelligence from those branches.
  • Branches compete with each other for funding from Congress and other officials.

  • Various branches hugely overestimate enemy capacities.
  • E.g. the army reports extremely high Soviet ground force numbers.
  • The Air Force reports extremely high Soviet ICBM capacity.
  • Inter-branch coordination gets trampled.
  • There is no incentive for estimates or behavior that aligns with strategy or reality.

  • All military branches want to get in all-out war if/when it happens.

  • The Pacific Navy basically insists on attacking Asia alongside Russia in all cases, because they want to be involved and don’t just want to attack minor Siberian targets “on the sidelines” of The Big War.
  • Nuclear plans have Moscow area getting blanketed with hundreds of nuclear bombs from all sides. “Hundreds of nuclear bombs” is a phrase that here and elsewhere means “calamitous overkill”.

  • Military branches don’t want to listen to civilian politicians.
  • Civilian politicians are powerful decision-makers.

  • Information is concealed, including from the president (for instance, the JSCP, which is the detailed plan for all-out war).
  • Military leaders just don’t listen to civilians who outrank them (e.g. in moving ships with nuclear warheads illegally stationed in Japanese ports).
  • Civilian President Kennedy is politically obliged not to override poor decisions made by President Eisenhower, the famous military general.

  • Nuclear bomber pilots need to receive an authorized signal to enact plans for bombing Russian and Asian targets.
  • Air force planners want as little delay as possible in executing war plans once they get the order.
  • Air Force planners want to save time and effort.

  • Authorization codes are stored in plaintext in envelopes in each plane, are the same between every plane, and are rarely changed.
  • Any pilot who realized this could easily lead their base in a nuclear strike, and almost certainly trigger all-out nuclear war.
  • There’s no way in the target database to easily distinguish Russian and Chinese targets, so everyone at Air Force bases assumes that if they get the war order, they’ll just drop nuclear weapons on everyone. All Chinese cities were going to be destroyed under every nuclear attack plan, throughout the entire early Cold War.

  • Communications systems with Washington DC might be destroyed if Russia attacks the US with nuclear weapons first.
  • Communication systems between bases might be destroyed during a Russian attack.
  • Communications in general are pretty unreliable.
  • Everyone in the military chain of command, including the President, wants the US to be able to respond as quickly as possible to a Russian first strike.

  • Ability to initiate a nuclear war is secretly delegated down the chain of command in cases where bases are not in touch with Washington DC.
  • Contact with Washington DC is often unreliable – for hours every day on some bases in the Pacific.
  • Basically anyone in the chain of command is not just capable of, but entirely authorized to, declare total nuclear war most of the time.

This are not even every example. A story retold in many different forms throughout the entire book goes like this:

  1. Daniel Ellsberg learns about one of these outcomes.
  2. Ellsberg talks to some relevant officials and outlines a possible catastrophe.
  3. The officials go still, think about it, and say with concern, “That seems entirely possible.”
  4. Nothing changes, ever.

A possible solution for most of these spiraling incentives is a countervailing force, balancing the dynamic back away from “total catastrophe”. An actor, or an incentive, or something. Often, that does not exist – in the veil of secrecy surrounding nuclear war, any party with an incentive to care about the implied risk isn’t aware of the entire situation, and can’t unilaterally fix it if it exists. Ellsberg tries to repair these flawed systems when he notices them, but has little power to do so.

He talks about how he suspects that some leaders, including President Kennedy, never had real intentions of using nuclear weapons, but even if that’s true, the scenarios above suggest that presidential intent may have had little to do with the outcome.

Ellsberg’s knowledge of the situation drops off in the 70’s or so when he started doing other work. Are all of these nuclear war and control systems still like this?? Maybe??!! Certainly nobody was rushing to reform them throughout his long tenure with the government.

I don’t know what to do about any of this. This book illuminates the number of needles we somehow threaded in avoiding catastrophe since the start of the Cold War. Here’s where you can get it.

Nemesis club

[Cover photo taken by T. R. Shankar Raman, under a CC BY-SA 4.0 license.]

College season is starting soon and many, including me, will be returning to school soon. In that spirit, I thought I’d try and pitch the Eukaryotes Read Blog collective on an idea I never tried out in undergrad.*

On undergrad campuses, fall is a magical time. A lot of energetic new students have found themselves joining together, bereft of their previous friends and social networks, away from their family, drastically changing their lifestyles, and making it on their own in the world.

University campuses are well-equipped to help you make friends. There are plenty of campus-organized bonding opportunities in the first few weeks, and, if you’re like most people, you’ll end up making friends with roommates, classmates, other people on your floor, people you eat with in the cafeteria, etc.

What university campuses do not help you make are enemies.

Enemies are an important and time-honored form of human relationship. Beowulf had Grendel, Batman had Catwoman, St. Patrick had the snakes. But forming and nurturing early-stage enemyships can be difficult. Sometimes your enemy has killed your son and you’ve come to exact retribution, or you’re investigating the same murder, or you’re driving your enemy out of Ireland. But these opportunities are few and far between.

Don’t get me wrong. True nemesis relationships can happen early on in the college career. Maybe you were in a conversation with them about land management during your “get acquainted” circle in Orientation Week, and their opinions were so bad you wanted to punch them, and now they’re dating your roommate. But most people aren’t looking to make nemeses off the bat, and the stifling atmosphere of today’s college campuses – rife with memes like “be good to each other” – is simply not fertile ground for real adversarial relationships.

Without this release valve early on, nemeses tend to form painfully and explosively at random points throughout your college career, when you’ve already signed a 12-month lease with them. Eventually, they get increasingly awful, and you have to kick them out and suffer through a massive screaming fit that goes on all night when you have a six-hour O-chem lab the next day. Go fuck yourself, Amy.

I don’t want that. None of us want that. Enter Nemesis Club.

Upon joining Nemesis Club, you fill out a form. It asks for your name and class standing, and goes into what you’re looking for in a nemesis.

2018_08_02_20:24:42_Selection

A sample nemesis-matching survey.

Over the next week, organizers match you with another participant with similar needs and desires. Congratulations! You now have a nemesis. While you make friends, reorient your life, and try to ace your classes, this friendly face will be there to curse, shake your fist at, and plot against.

There’s a tricky balance here – society has poorly equipped us for the nuances of the comradversarial relationship, so the club has to be ready to help members navigate this. What if two nemeses have different assumptions about the seriousness of the enemyship? What if people are unhappy in their nemesis bonds?

It’s important that these bonds be navigated carefully. Ideally, these relationships will be satisfying. Maybe they’ll lead to academic success, grudging friendship, or romance. Maybe at the end of the college career, both nemeses will set aside their grudges and continue their lives as pals. Or maybe, if we’re lucky, these connections will blossom into life-long rivalries.

If anyone starts a nemesis club, or some variation of it, do let me know.


  • My ex did actually briefly try to start this. I declined to participate because he refused to take out “physical violence” as a club-endorsed nemesis activity (between willing participants). I admire his commitment to the aesthetic, but have to disrecommend this approach if you’re planning on starting your own, for reasons both of legitimacy and of gaining members that really don’t want to be involved with something that includes physical violence (which is to say: most people).

Biodiversity for heretics

Epistemic status: Not very confident in my conclusions here. Could be missing big things. Information gained through many hours of reading about somewhat-related topics, and a small few hours of direct research.

Summary: Biodiversity research is popular, but interpretations of it are probably flawed, in that they’re liable to confuse causation and correlation. Biodiversity can be associated with lots of variables that are rarely studied themselves, and one of these, not “biodiversity” in general, might cause an effect. (For example, more biodiverse ecosystems are more likely to include a particular species that has significant effects on its own.) I think “biodiversity” is likely overstudied compared to abundance, biomass, etc., because it’s A) easier to measure and B) holds special and perhaps undue moral consideration.


From what I was told, biodiversity – the number of species present in an environment – always seemed to be kind of magical. Biodiverse ecosystems are more productive, more stable over time, produce higher crop yields, and are more resistant to parasites and invaders. Having biodiversity in one place increases diversity in nearby places, even though diversity isn’t even one thing (forgive me for losing my citation here). Biodiverse microbiomes are healthier for humans. Biodiversity is itself the most important metric of ecosystem health. The property “having a suite of different organisms living in the same place” just seems to have really incredible effects.

First of all – quickly – some of what I was told isn’t actually true. More diverse microbiomes in bodies aren’t always healthier for humans or more stable. The effects of losing species in ecosystems varies a ton. More biodiverse ecosystems don’t necessarily produce more biomass.

That said, there’s still plenty of evidence that biodiversity correlates with something.

But: biodiversity research and its interpretations have problems. Huston (1997) introduced me to a few very concrete ways this can turn up misleading or downright inaccurate results.

Our knowledge about biodiversity’s effects on ecosystems comes from either experiments, in which biodiversity is manipulated in a controlled setting; or in observations of existing ecosystems. Huston identifies a few ways that these have, historically, given us bad or misleading data:

  1. Biotic or abiotic conditions, either in observations or experiments, are altered between groups. (E.g. you pick some sites to study that are less and more biodiverse, but the more-biodiverse sites are that way because they get more rainfall – which obviously is going to have other impacts)
  2. Species representing the “additional biodiversity” in experiments aren’t chosen randomly, they’re known to have some ecosystem function.
  3. Increasing the number of species increases the chance that one or a few of the added species will have some notable ecosystem effect on their own.

I’m really concerned about (3).


To show why, let’s imagine aliens who come to earth and want to study how humans work. They abduct random humans from across the world and put them in groups of various sizes.

Building walls

The aliens notice that the human civilizations have walls. They give their groups of abducted humans blocks and instruct them to build simple walls.

It turns out that larger groups of humans can build, on average, proportionally longer walls. The aliens conclude that wall-building is a property of larger groups of humans.

Building radios

The aliens also notice that human civilizations have radios. They give their groups of abducted humans spare electronic parts, and instruct them to build a radio.

Once again, it turns out that larger groups of humans are proportionally more likely to be able to build a radio. The aliens conclude that radio-building, too, is a property of large groups of humans.


The mistake the aliens are making is in assuming that wall- and radio-building are functions of “the number of humans you have in one place”. More people can build a longer simple wall, because there’s more hands to lift and help. But when it comes to building radios, a larger group just increases the chance that at least one human in the group will be an engineer.

To the aliens, who don’t know about engineers, “number of humans” kind of relates to the thing they’re interested in – they will notice a correlation – but they’re making a mistake by just waving their hands and saying that mostly only large groups of humans possess the intelligence needed to build a radio, perhaps some sort of hivemind.

Similarly, we’d make a mistake by looking at all the strange things that happen in diverse ecosystems, and saying that these are a magical effect that appears whenever you get large numbers of different plants in the same field. I wonder how often we notice that something correlates with “biodiversity” and completely miss the actual mechanism.

Aside from a specific species or couple of species in combination that have a particular powerful effect on ecosystems, what else might biodiversity correlate to that’s more directly relevant? How about abundance (the number of certain organisms of some kind present)? Or biomass (the combined weight of organisms)? Or environmental conditions, like the input of energy? Or the amount of biomass turnover, or the amount of predation, etc., etc.?

I started wondering about this while doing one of my several projects that relate to abundance in nature. We should still study biodiversity, sure. But the degree to which biodiversity has been studied compared to, say, abundance, has lead us to a world where we know there are 6,399 species of mammals, but nobody has any idea – even very roughly – how many mammals there are. Or how we’re pretty sure that there are about 7.7 million species of animals, plus or minus a few hundred thousand, which is a refinement of many previous estimates of the same thing – and then we have about two people (one of whom is wildly underqualified) trying to figure out how many animals there are at all.

It’s improving. A lot of recent work focuses on functional biodiversity. This is the diversity of properties of organisms in an environment. Instead of just recording the number of algae species in a coastal marine shelf, you might notice that some algae crusts on rocks, some forms a tall canopy, some forms a low canopy, and some grows as a mat. It’s a way of separating organisms into niches and into their interactions with the environment.

Functional diversity seems to better describe ecosystem effects than diversity alone (as described e.g. here). That said, it still leaves the door open for (3) – looking at functional diversity means you must know something about the ecosystem, but it’s not enough to tell you what’s causing the effect in and of itself.


To illustrate why:

Every species has some functional properties that separate it from other species – some different interactions, some different niche or physical properties, etc. We can imagine increasing biodiversity, then, as “a big pile of random variables.”

It turns out that when you start with a certain environment and slowly add or remove “a big pile of random variables”, that changes the environment’s properties. Who would have thought?


So is biodiversity instrumentally relevant to humans?

  1. There are sometimes solid explanations for why biodiversity itself might be relevant to ecosystems, e.g. the increased selection for species complementary over time theory.
  2. Biodiversity probably correlates to the things that studies claim it correlates to, including the ones that find significant environmental effects. I just claim that often, biodiversity is plausibly falsely described as the controlling variable rather than one of its correlates. (That said, there are reasons we might expect people to overstate its benefits – read on.)

If this is true, and biodiversity itself isn’t the driving force we make it out to be, why does everyone study it?

Firstly, I think biodiversity is easier to measure than, say, individual properties, or abundance. Looking at the individual properties and traits of each species in the environment is its whole own science, specific to that particular species and that particular environment. It would be a ridiculous amount of work.

But when we try to get the measure of an ecosystem without this really deep knowledge, we turn into the alien scientists – replacing a precise and intricate interaction with a separate but easier-to-measure variable that sort of corresponds with the real one.

What about studying one of the other ecosystem properties, like abundance? I’m guessing that in the modern research environment, you’d basically have to be collecting biodiversity data anyways.

Researcher: We found 255 beetles in this quadrant!

PI: What kind?

Researcher: You know. Beetles.

…And if you’re identifying everything you find in an environment anyways, it’s easier to just keep track of how many different things you find, rather than do that plus exhaustively search for every individual.

This is just speculation, though.

Secondly, a lot of people believe that species and ecosystems are a special moral unit (independent of any effects or benefits they might have on humans). That’s why people worry about losing the parasites of endangered species, or wonder if we shouldn’t damage biodiversity by eradicating diseases.

And… it’s hard to explain why this seems wrong to me, but I’ll try. I get it. Environmentalism is compelling and widespread. It was the background radiation of virtually almost every interaction with nature I had growing up. It was taken for granted that every drop of biodiversity was a jewel with value beyond measure, that endangered species were inherently worth going to great lengths to protect and preserve, that ecosystems are precariously balanced configurations that should be defended as much as possible from encroachment by humans. Under this lens, of course the number of species present is the default measurement – the more biodiversity preserved from human destruction, the more intricate and elaborate the ecosystem (introduced species excepted), the better.

And… doesn’t that seem a little limited? Doesn’t that seem like a sort of arbitrary way to look at huge parts of the world we live in? It’s not worth throwing out, but perhaps it deserves a little questioning. Where else could we draw the moral lines?

Personally, I realized my morality required me to treat animals as moral patients. This started with animals directly used by humans, but then got me re-examining the wild animals I’d been so fond of for so long.

Currently, I put individual animals and species in mostly-separated mental buckets. A species, a particular pattern instantiated by evolution acting on rocks and water over time, is important – but it’s important because it’s beautiful, like a fantastic painting made over decades by a long-dead artist. We value aesthetics, and interpretations, and certainly the world would be worse off without a piece of beauty like this one.

But an individual matters morally because it feels. It cares, it thinks, it feels joy, it suffers. We know because we are one, and because the same circuits and incentives that run in our brains also run in the brains of the cats, chickens, songbirds, insects, earthworms, whale sharks, and bristlemouths that we share this lonely earth with.

We might say that a species “suffers” or “is in pain”, the same way that a city “is in pain”, and we might mean several different things by that. We might say many of the individuals in the collective suffer. Or we might mean that the species is degraded somehow the way art is degraded – lessened in quantity, less likely to survive into the future, changing rapidly, etc. But it seems like a stretch to call that pain, in the way that being eaten alive is pain.

Obviously, at some point, you have to make trade-offs over what you care about. I don’t have my answers worked out yet, but for now, I put a lot more value on the welfare of individual animals than I used to, and I care less about species.

I don’t expect this viewpoint to become widespread any time soon. But I think it’s possible that the important things in nature aren’t the ones we’ve expected, and that under other values, properties like abundance and interactions deserve much more attention (compared to biodiversity) than they have now.


This blog has a Patreon. If you like what you’ve read, consider giving it your support so I can make more of it.

Eukaryote Writes Blog resource pages

The same way I sometimes get interested in a topic and go learn a bunch about it, I tend to collect useful links and resources.  So I’ve put some of those collections here. (The meta-resource page is linked on the sidebar.)

Current resource pages are:

Why was smallpox so deadly in the Americas?

In Eurasia, smallpox was undoubtedly a killer. It came and went in waves for ages, changing the course of empires and countries. 30% of those infected with the disease died from it. This is astonishingly high mortality from a disease – worse than botulism, Lassa Fever, tularemia, the Spanish flu, Legionnaire’s disease, and SARS.

In the Americas, smallpox was a rampaging monster.

When it first appeared Hispaniola in 1518, it spread 150 miles in four months and killed 30-50% of people. Not just of those infected, of the entire population1. It’s said to have infected a quarter of the population of the Aztec Empire within two weeks, killing half of those2, and laying the stage for another disease to kill many more3. 

Then, alongside other diseases and warfare, it contributed to 84% of the Incan Empire dying4.

Among the people who sometimes traded at the Hudson Bay Company’s Cumberland House on the Seskatchewan River in 1781 and 1782, 95% seemed to have died. Of them, the U’Basquiau (also called, I believe, the Basquia Cree people) were entirely killed5.

Over time, smallpox killed 90% of the Mandan tribe, along with 80% of people in the Columbia River region, 67% of the Omahas, and half of the Piegan tribe and of the Huron and Iroquois Confederations6.

Here are some estimates of the death rates between ~1605 and 1650 in various Northeastern American groups. This was during a time of severe smallpox epidemics. Particularly astonishing figures are highlighted (mine).

highlightedtable

Figure adapted from European contact and Indian depopulation in the Northeast: The timing of the first epidemics[^7]

Most of our truly deadly diseases don’t move quickly or aren’t contagious. Rabies, prion diseases, and primary amoebic meningoencephalitis have more or less 100% fatality rates. So do trypanosomiasis (African sleeping sickness) and HIV, when untreated.

When we look at the impact of smallpox in the Americas, we see extremely fast death rates that are worse than the worst forms of Ebola.

What happened?

In short, probably a total lack of previous exposure to smallpox and the other pathogenic European diseases, combined with cultural responses that helped the pathogen spread. The fact that smallpox was intentionally spread by Europeans in some cases probably contributed, but I’m not sure how much.

Virgin soil

Smallpox and its relatives in the orthopox family – monkeypox, cowpox, horsepox, and alastrim (smallpox’s milder variant) – had been established in Eurasia and Africa for centuries. Exposure to one would give some immune protection to the others. Variolation, a cruder version of vaccination, was also sometimes practiced.

Between these, and the frequent waves of outbreaks, a European adult would have survived some kind of direct exposure to smallpox-like antigens in the past, and would have the protection of antibodies to it, preventing future sickness. They would also have had, as children, the indirect protection of maternal antibodies, protecting them as children1.

In the Americas, everyone was exposed to the most virulent form of the disease with no defenses. This is called a “virgin soil epidemic”.

In this case, epidemics would stampede through occasionally, ferociously but infrequently enough for any given tribe that antibodies wouldn’t successfully form, and maternal protection didn’t develop. Many groups were devastated repeatedly by smallpox outbreaks over decades, as well as other European diseases: the Cocolizti epidemics3, measles, influenza, typhoid fever, and others7.

In virgin soil epidemics, including these ones, disease strikes all ages: children and babies, the elderly and strong young adults6. This sort of indiscriminate attack on all age groups is a known sign in animal populations that a disease is extremely lethal8. In humans, it also slows the gears of society to a halt.

When so much of the population of a village was too sick to move, not only was there nobody to tend crops or hunt – setting the stage for scarcity and starvation – but there was nobody to fetch water. Dehydration is suspected as a major cause of death, especially in children16. Very sick mothers would also be unable to nurse infants6

Other factors that probably contributed:

Cultural factors

Native Americans had some concept of disease transmission – some people would run away when smallpox arrived in their village, possibly carrying and spreading the germ7. They also would steer clear of other tribes that had it. That said, many people lived in communal or large family dwellings, and didn’t quarantine the sick to private areas. They continued to sleep alongside and spend time with contagious people6.

In addition, pre-colonization Native American measures against diseases were probably somewhat effective to pre-colonization diseases, but tended to be ineffective or harmful for European diseases. Sweat baths, for instance, could have spread the disease and wouldn’t have helped9. Transmission could also have occurred during funerals10

Looking at combinations of the above factors, death rates of 70% and up are not entirely unsurprising.

Use as a bioweapon

Colonizers repeatedly used smallpox as an early form of biowarfare against Native Americans, knowing that they were more susceptible. This included, at times, intentionally withholding vaccines from them. Smallpox also spreads rapidly naturally, so I’m not sure how much contributed to the overall extreme death toll, although it certainly resulted in tremendous loss of life.

Probably not responsible:

Genetics. A lack of immunological diversity, or some other genetic susceptibility, has been cited as a possible reason for the extreme mortality rate. This might be particularly expected in South America, because of the serial founder effect – in which a small number of people move away from their home community and start their own, repeated over and over again, all the way across Beringia and down North America, into South America9.

That said, this theory is considered unlikely today1. For one, the immune systems of native peoples of the Americas react similarly to vaccines as the immune systems of Europeans10. For another, groups in the Americas also had unusually high mortality from other European diseases (influenza, measles, etc), but this mortality decreased relatively quickly after first exposure – quickly enough that genetic attributes couldn’t change quickly enough to explain the response10.

Some have also proposed general malnutrition, which would weaken the immune system and make it harder to fight off smallpox. This doesn’t seem to have been a factor1. Scarce food was a fact of life in many Native American groups, but then again, the same was true for European peasants, who still didn’t suffer as much from smallpox.

Africa

Smallpox has had a long history in parts of Africa – the earliest known instance of smallpox infection comes from Egyptian mummies2, and frequent European contact throughout the centuries spread the disease to the parts they interacted with. Various groups in North, East, and West Africa developed their own variolation techniques11.

However, when the disease was introduced to areas it hadn’t existed before, we saw similarly astounding death rates as in the Americas: one source describes mortality rates of 80% among the Griqua people of South Africa. Less quantitatively, it describes how several Hottentot tribes were “wiped out” by the disease, that some tribes in northern Kenya were “almost exterminated”, and that parts of the eastern Congo River basin became “completely depopulated”2.

This makes it sound like smallpox acted similarly in unexposed people in Africa. It also lends another piece of evidence against the genetic predisposition hypothesis – that the disease would act similarly on groups so geographically removed.

Wikipedia also tells me that smallpox was comparably deadly when it was first introduced to various Australasian islands, but I haven’t looked into this further.

Extra

Required reading on humanism, smallpox, and smallpox eradication.


When smallpox arrived in India around 400 AD, it spurred the creation of Shitala, the Hindu goddess of (both causing and curing) smallpox. She is normally depicted on a donkey, carrying a broom for either spreading germs or sweeping out a house, and a bowl of either smallpox germs or of cool water.

The last set of images on this page also seems to be a depiction of the goddess, and captures something altogether different, something more dark and visceral.


Finally, this blog has a Patreon. If you like what you’ve read, consider giving it your support so I can make more of it.

References


  1. Riley, J. C. (2010). Smallpox and American Indians revisited. Journal of the history of medicine and allied sciences65(4), 445-477. 
  2. Fenner, F., Henderson, D. A., Arita, I., Jezek, Z., Ladnyi, I. D., & World Health Organization. (1988). Smallpox and its eradication. 
  3. Acuna-Soto, R., Sthale, D. W., Cleaveland, M. K., & Therrell, M. D. (2002). Megadrought and megadeath in 16th century Mexico. Revista Biomédica13, 289-292. 
  4. Beer, M., & Eisenstat, R. A. (2000). The silent killers of strategy implementation and learning. Sloan management review41(4), 29. 
  5. Houston, C. S., & Houston, S. (2000). The first smallpox epidemic on the Canadian Plains: in the fur-traders’ words. Canadian Journal of Infectious Diseases and Medical Microbiology11(2), 112-115. 
  6. Crosby, A. W. (1976). Virgin soil epidemics as a factor in the aboriginal depopulation in America. The William and Mary Quarterly: A Magazine of Early American History, 289-299. 
  7. Sundstrom, L. (1997). Smallpox Used Them Up: References to Epidemic Disease in Northern Plains Winter Counts, 1714-1920. Ethnohistory, 305-343. 
  8. MacPhee, R. D., & Greenwood, A. D. (2013). Infectious disease, endangerment, and extinction. International journal of evolutionary biology, 2013. 
  9. Snow, D. R., & Lanphear, K. M. (1988). European contact and Indian depopulation in the Northeast: the timing of the first epidemics. Ethnohistory, 15-33. 
  10. Walker, R. S., Sattenspiel, L., & Hill, K. R. (2015). Mortality from contact-related epidemics among indigenous populations in Greater Amazonia. Scientific reports5, 14032. 
  11. Herbert, E. W. (1975). Smallpox inoculation in Africa. The Journal of African History16(4), 539-559. 

[OPEN QUESTION] Insect declines: Why aren’t we dead already?

One study on a German nature reserve found insect biomass (e.g., kilograms of insects you’d catch in a net) has declined 75% over the last 27 years. Here’s a good summary that answered some questions I had about the study itself.

Another review study found that, globally, invertebrate (mostly insect) abundance has declined 35% over the last 40 years.

Insects are important, as I’ve been told repeatedly (and written about myself). So this news begs a very important and urgent question:

Why aren’t we all dead yet?

This is an honest question, and I want an answer. (Readers will know I take catastrophic possibilities very seriously.) Insects are among the most numerous animals on earth and central to our ecosystems, food chains, etcetera. 35%+ lower populations are the kind of thing where, if you’d asked me to guess the result in advanced, I would have expected marked effects on ecosystems. By 75% declines – if the German study reflects the rest of the world to any degree – I would have predicted literal global catastrophe.

Yet these declines have been going on for apparently decades apparently consistently, and the biosphere, while not exactly doing great, hasn’t literally exploded.

So what’s the deal? Any ideas?

Speculation/answers welcome in the comments. Try to convey how confident you are and what your sources are, if you refer to any.

(If your answer is “the biosphere has exploded already”, can you explain how, and why that hasn’t changed trends in things like global crop production or human population growth? I believe, and think most other readers will agree, that various parts of ecosystems worldwide are obviously being degraded, but not to the degree that I would expect by drastic global declines in insect numbers (especially compared to other well-understood factors like carbon dioxide emissions or deforestation.) If you have reason to think otherwise, let me know.)


Sidenote: I was going to append this with a similar question about the decline in ocean phytoplankton levels I’d heard about – the news that populations of phytoplankton, the little guys that feed the ocean food chain and make most of the oxygen on earth, have decreased 40% since 1950.

But a better dataset, collected over 80 years with consistent methods, suggests that phytoplankton have actually increased over time. There’s speculation that the appearance of decrease in the other study may have been because they switched measurement methods partway through. An apocalypse for another day! Or hopefully, no other day, ever.


Also, this blog has a Patreon. If you like my work, consider incentivizing me to make more!