Los Angeles Area Bioscience Academic Institutions, Researchers, Industry and Investors Converge at LABEST May 25 27, 2021 – BioSpace

UCLA Technology Development Group (UCLA TDG) presents The Los Angeles Bioscience Ecosystem Summit 2021 (LABEST pronounced L-A Best). This event is the premier showcase for bioscience innovation in Los Angeles County. A true collaboration with colleagues from across the county, LABEST presents promising academic research, entrepreneurial faculty investigators, as well as local start- up companies. The goal is to promote awareness of the growing life science entrepreneurial ecosystem in Los Angeles in order to foster partnerships with the biopharma industry.

The pandemic demonstrated the need to quickly translate discoveries into real world products. In this virtual summit we bring together people that make a difference: researchers, hospital CEOs, investors and industry the entire ecosystem needed for drug development and commercialization, said Amir Naiberg, Vice Chancellor, CEO & President, UCLA TDG.

The conference is entirely virtual this year. Throughout the summit, faculty members present the latest scientific breakthroughs, which may lead to the critical therapies of tomorrow. Leading bioscience translational research programs and start-ups will be showcased where Southern California Institutions have significant expertise, pioneering research and resource commitments directed towards developing innovative patient therapies.

LABEST is led by Mark Wisniewski, Senior Director, Bio Pharmaceuticals, UCLA TDG. He adds, We have many leaders who will be providing different perspectives at LABEST on LAs significant progress as a bioscience ecosystem and successful drug development collaborations including Anne Rimoin Professor of Epidemiology who is a keynote speaker, Maria Millan CEO of California Institute of Regenerative Medicine, Arie Belldegrun, Chairman of Bellco Capital, Steven Rosen, Provost and Chief Scientific Officer of the City of Hope and Johnese Spisso, CEO of UCLA Health and President of UCLA Hospital.

LABEST INFORMATION (images on last page) #UCLALABEST2021 @UCLATDG

DATES:Tuesday May 25, Wednesday May 26 and Thursday May 27, 2021

TIME: 9:00AM 5:00PM Pacific Standard Time

LABEST OFFICIAL WEBPAGE https://tdg.ucla.edu/la-best-la-bioscience-ecosystem-summit-2021

REGISTRATION

General Tickets are currently $95 and increase to $125 after May 15th. The cost includes all 3 Days of the LABEST Conference. Registration link: https://tdg.ucla.edu/la-best-la-bioscience-ecosystem-summit-2021

WHERE

This is a completely virtual event. Registered attendees can access the LABEST virtual conference at https://labest2021.vfairs.com/

AGENDA HIGHLIGHTS | View the Latest Agenda Here

KEYNOTE SPEAKERS

CONFERENCE HIGHLIGHTS

LABEST SHORT TALK/PANEL DESCRIPTIONS

Talk/Panel Title

Description

Keynote: Why LA

Eric Esrailian and Gene Sykes

"Why LA": Los Angeles' attraction as a bioscience ecosystem, its exciting growth, competitive advantages, and its future including hosting the 2028 Summer Olympics, LA28.

Keynote: Martin Jarmond

Every player has their part. Teamwork and responsibility are key.

Keynote: Anne Rimoin

COVID-19 and Beyond

How to stop pandemics before they start

Hospital CEOs Sharing Innovations Panel

CEOs of Los Angeles' hospital systems will share their best practices and resulting innovations to address the COVID-19 pandemic and how their collaborative efforts will shape the future of hospital systems and the health of Los Angeles County.

Meet Leaders in the Business of Life Sciences

Biopharma leaders will address scientific innovation, drug development, financing andstartups trends in Los Angeles.

Growth and Retention of Biotech Start-ups in LA

Bioscience CEO will discuss their experiences, decisions, challenges and future opportunities with being located in Los Angeles.

CIRM Strategic Priorities and Opportunities Beyond 2020

With the passage of Prop 14, an additional $5.5 billion dollars have been allocated to fund stem cell research. Leaders in the field will discuss strategy and new opportunities in neuropsychiatric and other disorders.

Immuno-Oncology 2021 and Beyond Panel

After three decades of research, immune-based therapies have become potent new cancer treatments. Recent advances are focused on furthering our understanding of the mechanisms of action and improving access.

Startup Engines: Academic Industry Partnerships

Learn about new partnerships and models of collaboration between academia and industry to advance innovative research into new bioscience startups.

Moving Microbes from Bench to Bedside Panel

An expert-led discussion of the promise of microbial-based treatments for disease while addressing the major obstacles in clinical translation and integrating microbiome-based treatments into the standard of care.

Emerging Therapeutics in Neuroscience Panel

Recent advances in neuroscience will be discussed by a panel of experts seeking to impact these frequently unmet medical needs.

Scaling Gene and Cell Therapies to Reach More Patients Globally Panel

Due to a complex, multi-step treatment journey, there are numerous logistical challenges when it comes to expanding the reach of cell and gene therapies. How can we leverage bio manufacturing speed and scale to unlock the potential of cell and gene therapies and ensure they can get to the patients who need them?

Venture Capital and Syndication In Los Angeles

Learn how prominent Venture Capitalists are focusing on Los Angeles bioscience innovation and the how the increasing availability of capital is generating robust innovative startups in Los Angeles.

Advancing Inclusive Research

In order to enhance the accessibility and affordability of effective therapies, new models for the conduct of clinical trials will be discussed.

Amgen Research & Development/ Academic Strategies

Industry leaders discuss how to strategically work with academia to develop a pipeline for research, development and talent.

Amgen Ventures and Business Development in Los Angeles

How much bioscience business development is really happening in Los Angeles?

How Kite is Building a Global CAR T Franchise Out of LA

Learn how Kite's focus on cell therapy to treat cancer has advanced industry-leading pipeline of chimeric antigen receptor (CAR) and T cell receptor (TCR) product candidates to treat both hematological cancers and solid tumors.

Visit link:
Los Angeles Area Bioscience Academic Institutions, Researchers, Industry and Investors Converge at LABEST May 25 27, 2021 - BioSpace

Get Out the Vax campaign enters third weekend with 49% vaccinated – The Cincinnati Enquirer

Logo for the Get Out the Vax campaign(Photo: provided)

This weekend is the first of two in May for a full-on Get Out the Vax campaign, where Southwest Ohioand Northern Kentucky health care organizations, community groups and private businesses are encouraging people to get COVID-19 vaccines.

Free public transit will be available again as part of the goal to get 80% of people in the region who qualify for a COVID-19 vaccine inoculated by July 4. As of Wednesday, 49% were vaccinated, according to the Health Collaborative, the region's consortium of health systems.

[Sign up for thefree Coronavirus Watch newsletterto get the latest news in the Cincinnati region]

The campaign was announced on April 6, with two weekends planned for April and May to incentivize and motivate people to get a COVID-19 vaccine. A final campaign weekend is scheduled for May 22-23.

This weekend includes Mother's Day, which campaign officials hope will be incentive enough for many people in the region.

Kaitlyn Clark, a substitute teacher with Fort Thomas Independent Schools, receives her COVID-19 vaccination at St. Elizabeth Training & Education Center, in Erlanger, on Sunday, January 17, 2021.(Photo: Amanda Rossmann, The Enquirer/Amanda Rossmann)

One of the best things to give mom for Mothers Day is a hug, said Kate Schroder, a special adviser for vaccine coordination at the Health Collaborative overseeing the regional campaign, adding that a COVID-19 vaccine can lead to just that.

Check out The Enquirer's vaccine guide for locations and details of the region's vaccine offerings.

People also can goto TestandProtectCincy.comand click on the "Vaccine Info" tab to learn where walk-in vaccines are available. Click on the providers link if you prefer scheduling an appointment.

Schroder said that there are a lot more vaccine clinics in neighborhood events. She also noted people who have trouble with transportationincluding difficulty with using public transit should call 211.

She said still about two-thirds of people in the region are still scheduling appointments, which is why a lot of appointments are available, but more and more, people are walking into vaccination sites.

Cincinnati Health Dept., 3101 Burnet Ave., Corryville; 9 a.m.-2 p.m.; Moderna vaccine.

HealthCare Connection, 1401 Steffen Ave., Lincoln Heights, and 1411 Compton Road, Mount Healthy; 8:30 a.m.-5:30 p.m.;Moderna vaccine.

Mercy Anderson Red Clinic,7502 State Road, Anderson Township;12:30 p.m.-4:30 p.m.;Moderna vaccine.

Price Hill Branch Library, 970 Purcell Ave., East Price Hill;11 a.m.-4 p.m; Johnson & Johnsonvaccine.

Tri Health Baldwin building,625 Eden Park Drive, Mount Auburn, 9 a.m.-3 p.mwith Pfizer vaccine.

TriHealth Bethesda Butler Hospital, 3125 Hamilton-Mason Road, Hamilton;Friday 8 a.m.-2 p.m.; Moderna vaccine.

TriHealth Bethesda North Outpatient Imaging Center, 10494 Montgomery Road, Montgomery; 8 a.m.-6 p.m.;Moderna vaccine.

TriHealth McCullough-Hyde Memorial Hospital, 110 N. Poplar St., Oxford;8 a.m.-2 p.m.; Pfizer vaccine.

TriHealth Western Ridge,6949 Good Samaritan Drive, Colerain Township; 8 a.m.-2 p.m.; Pfizer vaccine.

UCHealth Gardner Neuroscience Institute, 3113 Bellevue Ave. Corryville;9 a.m to 5 p.m.,J&J vaccine.

University of CincinnatiClermont College, 4200 Clermont College Drive, Batavia; 9 a.m.-2:30 p.m.,Pfizer vaccine, sponsored by Clermont County Public Health.

Hartwell Recreation Center, 8725 Vine St.; 10 a.m.-4 p.m.; J&J vaccine, operated by Cincinnati Health Dept,

Mercy Fairfield Medical Office Building, 2960 Mack Road, Suite 100, Fairfield; 8:30 a.m.-4:30 p.m., Moderna vaccine.

Tri Health Baldwin building,625 Eden Park Drive, Mount Auburn, 9 a.m.-3 p.mwith Modernavaccine.

TriHealth Bethesda North Outpatient Imaging Center, 10494 Montgomery Road, Montgomery; 8 a.m.-2 p.m.:Moderna vaccine.

Southern Campbell County Fire Dept., 1050 Race Track Road, Alexandria;9 a.m.-3 p.m.; Moderna vaccine.

TriHealth McCullough-Hyde Memorial Hospital, 110 N. Poplar St., Oxford;8 a.m.-2 p.m.; Pfizer vaccine.

TriHealth Western Ridge,6949 Good Samaritan Drive, Colerain Township; 8 a.m.-2 p.m.; Pfizer vaccine.

UCHealth Gardner Neuroscience Institute, 3113 Bellevue Ave. Corryville;9 a.m to 5 p.m., Pfizervaccine.

TriHealth Bethesda North Outpatient Imaging Center, 10494 Montgomery Road, Montgomery; 8 a.m.-2 p.m.:Moderna vaccine.

Urban League of Greater Southwestern Ohio, 3458 Reading Road, Avondale;11 a.m. - 2 p.m.; Moderna vaccine..

Read or Share this story: https://www.cincinnati.com/story/news/2021/05/06/covid-19-vaccine-campaign-continues-cincinnati-northern-kentucky/4955583001/

Originally posted here:
Get Out the Vax campaign enters third weekend with 49% vaccinated - The Cincinnati Enquirer

What Do Mountain Lions Think Of Humans? Find Out At The (Virtual) Pub! – kclu.org

Santa Barbara Natural History Museum is hosting an on-line event which explores how human presence impacts mountain lion behavior.

They are mysterious and reclusive animals, and the Science Pub From Home run by Santa Barbara Natural History Museum is exploring how human behavior impacts mountain lion behavior.

The speaker is UC Santa Cruz Professor Chris Wilmers, who studies mountain lions.

He told KCLU that mountain lions "don't particularly care" for humans.

"For the most part [they] try to avoid us," he said.

"Humans make it incredibly hard to be a mountain lion. We put up barriers like roads which make it very hard for them to move form part of their habitat to another."

Details about how to join the conversation are here.

Original post:
What Do Mountain Lions Think Of Humans? Find Out At The (Virtual) Pub! - kclu.org

Early human impacts and ecosystem reorganization in southern-central Africa – Science Advances

Abstract

Modern Homo sapiens engage in substantial ecosystem modification, but it is difficult to detect the origins or early consequences of these behaviors. Archaeological, geochronological, geomorphological, and paleoenvironmental data from northern Malawi document a changing relationship between forager presence, ecosystem organization, and alluvial fan formation in the Late Pleistocene. Dense concentrations of Middle Stone Age artifacts and alluvial fan systems formed after ca. 92 thousand years ago, within a paleoecological context with no analog in the preceding half-million-year record. Archaeological data and principal coordinates analysis indicate that early anthropogenic fire relaxed seasonal constraints on ignitions, influencing vegetation composition and erosion. This operated in tandem with climate-driven changes in precipitation to culminate in an ecological transition to an early, pre-agricultural anthropogenic landscape.

Modern humans act as powerful agents of ecosystem transformation. They have extensively and intentionally modified their environments for tens of millennia, leading to much debate about when and how the first human-dominated ecosystems arose (1). A growing body of archaeological and ethnographic evidence shows substantial, recursive interactions between foragers and their environments that suggest that these behaviors were fundamental to the evolution of our species (24). Fossil and genetic data indicate that Homo sapiens were present in Africa by ~315 thousand years (ka) ago, and archaeological data show notable increases in the complexity of behavior that took place across the continent within the past ~300- to 200-ka span at the end of the Middle Pleistocene (Chibanian) (5). Since our emergence as a species, humans have come to rely on technological innovation, seasonal scheduling, and complex social cooperation to thrive. These attributes have enabled us to exploit previously uninhabited or extreme environments and resources, so that today humans are the only pan-global animal species (6). Fire has played a key role in this transformation (7).

Biological models suggest that adaptations for cooked food extend back at least 2 million years, but regular archaeological evidence for controlled use of fire does not appear until the end of the Middle Pleistocene (8). A marine core with a dust record drawn from a wide swath of the African continent shows that over the past million years, peaks in elemental carbon occurred after ~400 ka, predominately during shifts from interglacial to glacial conditions, but also during the Holocene (9). This suggests that fire was less common in sub-Saharan Africa before ~400 ka and that by the Holocene, there was a substantial anthropogenic contribution (9). Fire is a tool that has been used by pastoralists to open and maintain grasslands throughout the Holocene (10). However, detecting the contexts and ecological impacts of fire use by Pleistocene early hunter-gatherers is more complex (11).

Fire is known both ethnographically and archaeologically as an engineering tool for resource manipulation, including improvement of subsistence returns or modification of raw materials, with these activities often associated with communal planning and requiring substantial ecological knowledge (2, 12, 13). Landscape-scale fires allow hunter-gatherers to drive game, control pests, and enhance productivity of habitat (2). On-site fire facilitates cooking, warmth, predator defense, and social cohesion (14). However, there is substantial ambiguity regarding the extent to which fires by hunter-gatherers can reconfigure components of a landscape, such as ecological community structure and geomorphology (15, 16).

Understanding the development of human-induced ecological change is problematic without well-dated archaeological and geomorphic data from multiple sites, paired with continuous environmental records. Long lacustrine sedimentary records from the southern African Rift Valley, coupled with the antiquity of the archaeological record in this region, make it a place where anthropogenically induced ecological impacts may be investigated into the Pleistocene. Here, we report the archaeology and geomorphology of an extensively dated Stone Age landscape in southern-central Africa. We then link it to paleoenvironmental data spanning >600 ka to identify the earliest coupled evidence for human behavior and ecosystem transformation in the context of anthropogenic fire.

We provide previously unreported age constraints for the Chitimwe Beds of the Karonga District that lie at the northern end of Lake Malawi in the southern portion of the African Rift Valley (Fig. 1) (17). These beds are composed of lateritic alluvial fan and stream deposits that cover ~83 km2, containing millions of stone artifacts, but do not have preserved organic remains such as bone (Supplementary Text) (18). Our optically stimulated luminescence (OSL) data from terrestrial records (Fig. 2 and tables S1 to S3) revise the age of the Chitimwe Beds to the Late Pleistocene, with the oldest age for both alluvial fan activation and burial of Stone Age sites ca. 92 ka (18, 19). The alluvial and fluvial Chitimwe Beds overlie Plio-Pleistocene Chiwondo Beds of lacustrine and fluvial origin in a low, angular unconformity (17). These sedimentary packages are in fault-bounded wedges along the lake margin. Their configuration indicates interactions between lake level fluctuations and active faulting extending into the Pliocene (17). Although tectonism may have affected regional relief and piedmont slopes over an extended time, fault activity in this region likely slowed since the Middle Pleistocene (20). After ~800 ka until shortly after 100 ka, the hydrology of Lake Malawi became primarily climate driven (21). Therefore, neither is likely the sole explanation for Late Pleistocene alluvial fan formation (22).

(A) Location of sites in Africa (star) relative to modern precipitation; blue is wetter and red is more arid (73); boxed area at left shows location of the MAL05-2A and MAL05-1B/1C cores (purple dots) in Lake Malawi and surrounding region, with the Karonga District highlighted as a green outline and location of Luchamange Beds as a white box. (B) Northern basin of Lake Malawi showing the hillshaded topography, remnant Chitimwe Beds (brown patches), and Malawi Earlier-Middle Stone Age Project (MEMSAP) excavation locations (yellow dots), relative to the MAL05-2A core; CHA, Chaminade; MGD, Mwangandas Village; NGA, Ngara; SS, Sadala South; VIN, Vinthukutu; WW, White Whale.

OSL central age (red lines) and error ranges at 1- (25% gray) for all OSL ages associated with in situ artifact occurrences in Karonga. Ages are shown against the past 125 ka of data for (A) Kernel density estimate of all OSL ages from alluvial fan deposits indicating sedimentation/alluvial fan accumulation (teal), and lake level reconstructions based on eigenvalues of a principal components analysis (PCA) of aquatic fossils and authigenic minerals from the MAL05-1B/1C core (21) (blue). (B) Counts of macrocharcoal per gram normalized by sedimentation rate, from the MAL05-1B/1C core (black, one value near 7000 off scale with asterisk) and MAL05-2A core (gray). (C) Margalefs index of species richness (Dmg) from fossil pollen of the MAL05-1B/1C core. (D) Percentages of fossil pollen from Asteraceae, miombo woodland, and Olea, and (E) percentages of fossil pollen from Poaceae and Podocarpus. All pollen data are from the MAL05-1B/1C core. Numbers at the top refer to individual OSL samples detailed in tables S1 to S3. Differences in data availability and resolution are due to different sampling intervals and material availability in the core. Figure S9 shows the two macrocharcoal records converted to z scores.

Landscape stability after (Chitimwe) fan formation is indicated by formation of laterites and pedogenic carbonates, which cap fan deposits across the study region (Supplementary Text and table S4). The formation of alluvial fans in the Late Pleistocene of the Lake Malawi basin is not restricted to the Karonga region. About 320 km to the southeast in Mozambique, terrestrial cosmogenic nuclide depth profiles of 26Al and 10Be constrain formation of the alluvial, lateritic Luchamange Beds to 119 to 27 ka (23). This broad age constraint is consistent with our OSL chronology for the western Lake Malawi basin and indicates regional alluvial fan expansion in the Late Pleistocene. This is supported by data from lake core records, which suggest a higher sedimentation rate accompanied by increased terrigenous input after ca. 240 ka, with particularly high values at ca. 130 and 85 ka (Supplementary Text) (21).

The earliest evidence for human occupation in the region is tied to the Chitimwe sedimentary deposits identified at ~92 7 ka. This result is based on 605 m3 of excavated sediment from 14 archaeological excavations with subcentimeter spatial control, and 147 m3 of sediment from 46 archaeological test pits with 20-cm vertical and 2-m horizontal control (Supplementary Text and figs. S1 to S3). In addition, we have surveyed 147.5 linear km, emplaced 40 geological test pits, and analyzed over 38,000 artifacts from 60 of these localities (tables S5 and S6) (18). These extensive surveys and excavations show that while hominins, including early modern humans, may have inhabited the region before ~92 ka, depositional aggradation associated with rising and then stabilized Lake Malawi levels did not preserve archaeological evidence until formation of the Chitimwe Beds.

The archaeological data support the inference that during the Late Quaternary, fan expansion and human activities in northern Malawi were substantial, and artifacts were of a type associated elsewhere in Africa with early modern humans. The majority of artifacts were created from quartzite or quartz river cobbles and featured radial, Levallois, platform, and casual core reduction (fig. S4). Morphologically diagnostic artifacts can be predominantly attributable to Levallois-type technologies characteristic of the Middle Stone Age (MSA), known to date from at least ~315 ka in Africa (24). The uppermost Chitimwe Beds, which continue into the Early Holocene, contain sparsely distributed Later Stone Age occurrences, found in association with terminal Pleistocene and Holocene hunter-gatherers across Africa. In contrast, stone tool traditions typically associated with the Early and Middle Pleistocene, such as large cutting tools, are rare. Where these do occur, they are found within MSA-bearing deposits dated to the Late Pleistocene, not an earlier phase of sedimentation (table S4) (18). Although sites are present from ~92 ka, the most well-represented period of both human activity and alluvial fan deposition occurs after ~70 ka, well defined by a cluster of OSL ages (Fig. 2). We confirm this pattern with 25 published and 50 previously unpublished OSL ages (Fig. 2 and tables S1 to S3). These show that of a total of 75 age determinations, 70 were recovered from sediment that postdates ~70 ka. The 40 ages associated with in situ MSA artifacts are shown in Fig. 2, relative to major paleoenvironmental indicators published from the MAL05-1B/1C central basin lake core (25) and previously unpublished charcoal from the MAL05-2A northern basin lake core (adjacent to the fans that produced the OSL ages).

Climate and environmental conditions coeval with MSA human occupation at Lake Malawi were reconstructed using freshly generated data from phytoliths and soil micromorphology from archaeological excavations and published data from fossil pollen, macrocharcoal, aquatic fossils, and authigenic minerals from the Lake Malawi Drilling Project cores (21). The latter two proxies are the primary basis of the reconstruction of relative lake depth dating back over 1200 ka (21) and are matched to pollen and macrocharcoal samples taken from the same places in the core that span the past ~636 ka (25). The longest cores (MAL05-1B and MAL05-1C; 381 and 90 m, respectively) were collected ~100 km southeast of the archaeological project area. A shorter core (MAL05-2A; 41 m) was collected ~25 km east, offshore from the North Rukuru River (Fig. 1). The MAL05-2A core reflects terrigenous paleoenvironmental conditions of the Karonga region, whereas the MAL05-1B/1C cores did not receive direct riverine input from Karonga and thus are more reflective of regional conditions.

Sedimentation rates recorded in the MAL05-1B/1C composite drill core began to increase starting ~240 ka from a long-term average of 0.24 to 0.88 m/ka (fig. S5). The initial increase is associated with changes in orbitally modulated insolation, which drive high amplitude changes in lake level during this interval (25). However, when orbital eccentricity decreased and climate stabilized after 85 ka, sedimentation rates remained high (0.68 m/ka). This is concurrent with the terrestrial OSL record, which shows extensive evidence for alluvial fan expansion after ~92 ka, and congruent with magnetic susceptibility data that show a positive relationship between erosion and fire after 85 ka (Supplementary Text and table S7). Given the error ranges of available geochronological controls, it is not possible to tell whether this set of relationships evolved slowly from a progression of recursive processes or occurred in rapid bursts as tipping points were reached. On the basis of geophysical models of basin evolution, rift extension and associated subsidence have slowed since the Middle Pleistocene (20) and, therefore, are not the primary cause of extensive fan formation processes we have dated to mainly after 92 ka.

Climate has been the dominant control of lake level since the Middle Pleistocene (26). Specifically, uplift in the northern basin closed an existing outlet ca. 800 ka, allowing the lake to deepen until reaching the sill elevation of the modern outlet (21). This outlet, located at the southern end of the lake, provides an upper limit on lake levels during wet intervals (including the present day), but allows the basin to close as lake levels drop during periods of aridity (27). Lake level reconstructions show alternating wet-dry cycles over the past 636 ka. On the basis of evidence from fossil pollen, periods of extreme aridity (>95% decrease in total water volume) linked to lows in summer insolation resulted in the expansion of semidesert vegetation with trees restricted to permanent waterways (27). These (lake) lowstands were associated with pollen spectra showing high proportions of grass (80% or more) and xerophytic herbs (Amaranthaceae) at the expense of tree taxa and low overall species richness (25). In contrast, when the lake was near the modern level, vegetation with strong affinities to Afromontane forest typically expanded to the lakeshore [~500 m above sea level (masl)]. Today, Afromontane forests only occur in small, discontinuous patches above ~1500 masl (25, 28).

The most recent period of extreme aridity occurred from 104 to 86 ka, after which open miombo woodland with substantial grass and herbaceous components became widespread, despite recovery of the lake level to high-stand conditions (27, 28). Afromontane forest taxa, most notably Podocarpus, never recovered after 85 ka to values similar to previous periods of high lake levels (10.7 7.6% after 85 ka versus 29.8 11.8% during analogous lake level before 85 ka). Margalefs index (Dmg) also shows that the past 85 ka has been marked by species richness 43% lower than during previous sustained periods of high lake level (2.3 0.20 versus 4.6 1.21, respectively), for example, in the high lake period between ca. 420 and 345 ka (Supplementary Text and figs. S5 and S6) (25). Pollen samples from the period ca. 88 to 78 ka also contain high percentages of Asteraceae pollen, which can be indicative of vegetation disturbance and is within the error range of the oldest date for human occupation of the area.

We use a climate anomaly approach (29) to analyze paleoecological and paleoclimatic data from the drill cores before and after 85 ka and test the hypothesis that the ecological relations among vegetation, species richness, and precipitation became decoupled from predictions derived from the presumably purely climate-driven baseline pattern of the preceding ~550 ka. This transformed ecological system was influenced by both lake infilling precipitation conditions and fire occurrence, as reflected in a species-poor and novel vegetation assemblage. Only some forest elements recovered after the last arid period, and these included fire-tolerant components of the Afromontane forest such as Olea, and hardy components of tropical seasonal forest such as Celtis (Supplementary Text and fig. S5) (25). To test this hypothesis, we model lake level derived from ostracode and authigenic mineral proxies as the independent variable (21) versus dependent variables such as charcoal and pollen that could have been affected by increased fire frequency (25).

To examine how similar or dissimilar the assemblages were to one another at different times, we conducted a principal coordinates analysis (PCoA) using pollen from Podocarpus (evergreen tree), Poaceae (grasses), Olea (a fire-tolerant component of Afromontane forest), and miombo (the dominant woodland component today). By mapping the PCoA on top of an interpolated surface that represents lake level at the time each assemblage was formed, we examine how pollen assemblages changed relative to precipitation and how this relationship changed after 85 ka (Fig. 3 and fig. S7). Before 85 ka, samples dominated by Poaceae cluster toward drier conditions, while samples dominated by Podocarpus cluster toward wetter conditions. In contrast, samples dating to after 85 ka cluster away from the majority of pre-85-ka samples and have a different average value, showing that their composition is unusual for similar precipitation conditions. Their position in the PCoA reflects the influence of Olea and miombo, both of which are favored under more fire-prone conditions. Of the post-85-ka samples, Podocarpus is only abundant in three successive samples, which occurred just after the onset of this interval between 78 and 79 ka. This suggests that after initial rainfall increase, forests appear to make a brief recovery before eventual collapse.

Each dot represents a single pollen sample at a given point in time, using the age model in the Supplementary Text and fig. S8. Vectors show the direction and gradient of change, with longer vectors representing a stronger trend. The underlying surface represents lake levels as a proxy for precipitation; darker blue is higher. A mean value for the PCoA eigenvalues is provided for the post-85-ka data (red diamond) and all pre-85-ka data from analogous lake levels (yellow diamond). Analogous lake levels are between 0.130- and 0.198- around the mean eigenvalue of the lake level PCA using the entire 636 ka of data.

To investigate the relations among the pollen, lake levels, and charcoal, we used a nonparametric multivariate analysis of variance (NP-MANOVA) to compare the total environment (represented by a data matrix of pollen, lake levels, and charcoal), before and after the transition at 85 ka. We found that variation and covariation found in this data matrix are statistically significantly different before and after 85 ka (Table 1).

DF, degrees of freedom.

Our terrestrial paleoenvironmental data from phytoliths and soils on the western lake margins agree with interpretations based on proxies from the lake. These show that despite high lake levels, the landscape had transitioned to one dominated by open canopy woodland and wooded grassland, much as today (25). All localities analyzed for phytoliths on the western margin of the basin date to after ~45 ka and show substantial arboreal cover that reflect wet conditions. However, they suggest that much of that cover is in the form of open woodlands in cohort with bambusoid and panicoid grasses. On the basis of phytolith data, fire-intolerant palms (Arecaceae) were present exclusively by the lake shoreline and rare or absent from inland archaeological sites (table S8) (30).

In general, wet but open conditions in the later part of the Pleistocene are also inferred from terrestrial paleosols (19). Lagoonal clay and palustrine-pedogenic carbonates from the vicinity of the Mwangandas Village archaeological site date between 40 and 28 cal ka BP (calibrated kiloanni before present) (table S4). Carbonate soil horizons within the Chitimwe Beds are typically nodular calcretes (Bkm) and argillic and carbonate (Btk) horizons, which indicate locations of relative landform stability with slow sedimentation derived from distal alluvial fan progradation by ca. 29 cal ka BP (Supplementary Text). Eroded, indurated laterite soils (petroplinthites) formed on remnants of paleofans are indicative of open landscape conditions (31) with strongly seasonal precipitation (32), illustrating the ongoing legacy of these conditions on the landscape.

Support for the role of fire in this transformation comes from the paired macrocharcoal records from the drill cores, which from the central basin (MAL05-1B/1C) show an overall increase in charcoal influx starting ca. 175 ka. Substantial peaks follow between ca. 135 and 175 ka and 85 and 100 ka, after which time lake levels recover but forest trees and species richness do not (Supplementary Text, Fig. 2, and fig. S5). The relationship between charcoal influx and magnetic susceptibility of lake sediments can also show patterns in long-term fire history (33). Using data from Lyons et al. (34), ongoing erosion of burned landscapes after 85 ka is implied at Lake Malawi by a positive correlation (Spearmans Rs = 0.2542 and P = 0.0002; table S7), whereas older sediments show an inverse relationship (Rs = 0.2509 and P < 0.0001). In the northern basin, the shorter MAL05-2A core has its deepest chronological anchor point with the Youngest Toba Tuff at ~74 to 75 ka (35). Although it lacks the longer-term perspective, it receives input directly from the catchment from which the archaeological data derive. The north basin charcoal record shows a steady increase in terrigenous charcoal input since the Toba crypto-tephra marker, over the period where archaeological evidence is most prevalent (Fig. 2B).

Evidence for anthropogenic fire may reflect intentional use at the landscape scale, widespread populations creating more or larger on-site ignitions, alteration of fuel availability through harvesting of the understory, or a combination of these activities. Modern hunter-gatherers use fire to actively modify foraging returns (2). Their activities increase prey abundances, maintain mosaic landscapes, and increase pyrodiversity and succession stage heterogeneity (13). Fire is also important for on-site activities such as heat, cooking, defense, and socialization (14). Even small differences in the deployment of fire outside of natural lightning strikes can alter patterns of forest succession, fuel availability, and seasonality of ignitions. Reductions in arboreal cover and woody understory have the most potential to enhance erosion, while loss of species diversity in this region is tightly tied to loss of Afromontane forest communities (25).

Human control of fire is well established in the archaeological record from before the start of the MSA (15), but its use as a landscape management tool has only so far been documented in a few Paleolithic contexts. These include in Australia ca. 40 ka (36), Highland New Guinea ca. 45 ka (37), and ca. 50 ka at Niah Cave in lowland Borneo (38). In the Americas, anthropogenic ignitions have been implicated as major factors in the reconfiguration of faunal and floral communities as humans first entered these ecosystems, especially within the past 20 ka (16). These conclusions are necessarily based on correlative evidence, but the argument for a cause-and-effect relationship is strengthened where there is direct overlap of archaeological, geochronological, geomorphic, and paleoenvironmental data. Although marine core data offshore of Africa have previously provided evidence of altered fire regimes over the past ~400 ka (9), here, we provide evidence of anthropogenic impacts that draw from correlated archaeological, paleoenvironmental, and geomorphic datasets.

Identifying anthropogenic fire in the paleoenvironmental record requires evidence of temporal or spatial changes in fire activity and vegetation, demonstration that these changes are not predicted by climate parameters alone, and temporal/spatial coincidence between fire regime changes and changes in the human record (29). Here, the first evidence for extensive MSA occupation and alluvial fan formation in the Lake Malawi basin occurred alongside a major reorganization of regional vegetation that began ca. 85 ka. Charcoal abundances in the MAL05-1B/1C core are reflective of regional trends in charcoal production and sedimentation that show substantial differences after ca. 150 ka when compared to the rest of the 636-ka record (figs. S5, S9, and S10). This transition shows an important contribution of fire for shaping ecosystem composition that cannot be explained by climate alone. In natural fire regimes, lightning ignitions typically occur at the end of the dry season (39). Anthropogenic fires, however, may be ignited at any time if fuels are sufficiently dry. On a site scale, humans can alter fire regimes continuously through collection of firewood from the understory. The net result of anthropogenic fire of any kind is that it has the potential to result in more consumption of woody vegetation, continuously throughout the year, and at a variety of scales.

In South Africa, fire was used in the heat treatment of stone for tool manufacture as early as 164 ka (12) and as a tool for cooking starchy tubers as early as 170 ka (40), taking advantage of resources that thrived in ancient fire-prone landscapes (41). Landscape fires reduce arboreal cover and are crucial tools in maintaining grassland and forest patch environments, which are defining elements of anthropogenically mediated ecosystems (13). If modification of vegetation or prey behavior was the intent of increased anthropogenic burning, then this behavior represents an increase in the complexity with which early modern humans controlled and deployed fire in comparison to earlier hominins and shows a transformed interdependency in our relationship with fire (7). Our analysis offers an additional avenue for understanding how human use of fire changed in the Late Pleistocene and what impacts these changes had on their landscapes and environments.

The expansion of alluvial fans during the Late Quaternary in the Karonga region may be attributable to changes in seasonal burning cycles under higher-than-average rainfall conditions, which resulted in enhanced hillslope erosion. The mechanism through which this occurred was likely by driving watershed-scale responses from fire-induced disturbance with enhanced and sustained denudation in the upper portions of the watersheds, and alluvial fan expansion in the piedmont environments adjacent to Lake Malawi. These responses likely included changes in soil properties to decrease infiltration rates, diminished surface roughness, and enhanced runoff as high precipitation conditions combined with reduced arboreal cover (42). Sediment availability is enhanced initially by the stripping of cover material and over longer time scales potentially by loss of soil strength from heating and from decreased root strength. The stripping of topsoil increased sediment flux, which was accommodated by fan aggradation downstream and accelerated laterite formation on the fans.

Many factors can control the landscape response to changing fire regime, and most of them operate at short time scales (4244). The signal we associate here is manifest at the thousand-year time scale. Analytical and landscape evolution models have shown notable denudation rate changes over thousand-year time scales with recurrent wildfire-induced vegetation disturbances (45, 46). A lack of regional fossil records contemporaneous with the observed changes in charcoal and vegetation records impedes reconstruction of the impacts of human behavior and environmental change on herbivore community composition. However, large grazing herbivores that inhabit landscapes that are more open play a role in maintaining them and in keeping woody vegetation from encroaching (47). Evidence of change across different components of the environment should not be expected to be simultaneous, but rather viewed as a series of cumulative effects that may have occurred over a prolonged period (11). Using a climate anomaly approach (29), we attribute human activity as a key driver in shaping the landscape of northern Malawi over the course of the Late Pleistocene. However, these impacts may be built on an earlier, less visible legacy of human-environment interactions. Charcoal peaks that appear in the paleoenvironmental record before the earliest archaeological dates may include an anthropogenic component that did not result in the same ecological regime change that is documented later in time and that did not involve sedimentation sufficient to confidently indicate human occupation.

Short sediment cores, such as that from the adjacent Lake Masoko basin in Tanzania, or shorter cores within Lake Malawi itself, show changes in the relative pollen abundances of grass to woodland taxa that have been attributed to natural climate variability over the past 45 ka (4850). However, it is only with the longer perspective of the >600-ka pollen record of Lake Malawi, accompanied by the extensively dated archaeological landscape next to it, that it is possible to understand the longer-term associations between climate, vegetation, charcoal, and human activity. Although humans were likely present in the northern Lake Malawi basin before 85 ka, the density of archaeological sites after ca. 85 ka, and especially after 70 ka, indicates that the region was attractive for human occupation after the last major arid period ended. At this time, novel or more intensive/frequent usage of fire by humans apparently combined with natural climate shifts to restructure a >550-ka ecological relationship, ultimately generating an early preagricultural anthropogenic landscape (Fig. 4). Unlike during earlier time periods, the depositional nature of this landscape preserved MSA sites as a function of the recursive relationship between environment (resource distributions), human behavior (activity patterns), and fan activation (sedimentation/site burial).

(A) ca. 400 ka: No detectable human presence. Wet conditions similar to today with high lake level. Diverse, nonfire-tolerant arboreal cover. (B) ca. 100 ka: No archaeological record, but human presence possibly detected by charcoal influx. Extremely arid conditions occur in a desiccated watershed. Commonly exposed bedrock, limited surface sediment. (C) ca. 85 to 60 ka: Lake level is increasing with higher precipitation. Human presence archaeologically detectable after 92 ka and concentrated after 70 ka. Burning of uplands and alluvial fan expansion ensue. Less diverse, fire-tolerant vegetation regime emerges. (D) ca. 40 to 20 ka: Ambient charcoal input in the northern basin increases. Alluvial fan formation continues but begins to abate toward the end of this period. Lake levels remain high and stable relative to the preceding 636-ka record.

The Anthropocene represents the accumulation of niche construction behaviors that have developed over millennia, at a scale unique to modern H. sapiens (1, 51). In the modern context, anthropogenic landscapes persist and have intensified following the introduction of agriculture, but they are extensions, not disconnections, of patterns established during the Pleistocene (52). Data from northern Malawi show that periods of ecological transition can be prolonged, complex, and iterative. Transformations of this scale reflect complex ecological knowledge by early modern humans and illustrate their transition to the globally dominant species we are today.

Site survey and recording of artifact and cobble characteristics on survey tracts followed protocols described in Thompson et al. (53). Test pit emplacement and main site excavation, including micromorphology and phytolith sampling, followed protocols described in Thompson et al. (18) and Wright et al. (19). Our Geographic Information System (GIS) maps based on Malawi geological survey maps of the region show a clear association between the Chitimwe Beds and archaeological sites (fig. S1). Placement of geologic and archaeological test pits in the Karonga region was spaced to capture the broadest representative sample possible (fig. S2). Geomorphic, geochronometric, and archaeological investigations of Karonga involved four main field approaches: pedestrian survey, archaeological test pitting, geological test pitting, and detailed site excavations. Together, these techniques allowed major exposures of the Chitimwe Beds to be sampled in the northern, central, and southern parts of Karonga (fig. S3).

Site survey and recording of artifact and cobble characteristics on pedestrian survey tracts followed protocols described in Thompson et al. (53). This approach had two main goals. The first was to identify localities where artifacts were actively eroding, and then place archaeological test pits upslope at those localities to recover artifacts in situ from buried contexts. The second goal was to formally document the distribution of artifacts, their characteristics, and their relationship to nearby sources of lithic raw material (53). For this work, a crew comprising three people walked at 2- to 3-m spacing for a combined total of 147.5 linear km, transecting across most of the mapped Chitimwe Beds (table S6).

Work concentrated first on the Chitimwe Beds to maximize the sample of observed artifacts, and second on long linear transects from the lakeshore to the uplands that crosscut different sedimentary units. This confirmed the key observation that artifacts located between the western highlands and the lakeshore are exclusively associated with the Chitimwe Beds or more recent Late Pleistocene and Holocene deposits. Artifacts found in other deposits are ex situ and have been relocated from elsewhere on the landscape, as revealed by their abundances, sizes, and degree of weathering.

Archaeological test pit emplacement and main site excavation, including micromorphology and phytolith sampling, followed protocols described in Thompson et al. (18, 54) and Wright et al. (19, 55). The primary aim was to understand the subsurface distribution of artifacts and fan deposits across the larger landscape. Artifacts are typically deeply buried within the Chitimwe Beds in all places except at the margins, where erosion has begun to remove the top part of the deposit. During informal survey, two people walked across Chitimwe Beds that appear as mapped features on Government of Malawi geological maps. As these people encountered the shoulders of Chitimwe Bed deposits, they began to walk along the margins where they could observe artifacts eroding from the deposits. By placing excavations slightly (3 to 8 m) upslope from actively eroding artifacts, excavations could reveal their in situ locations relative to their containing sediments, without the necessity of laterally extensive excavations. Test pits were emplaced so that they would be 200- to 300-m distant from the next-nearest pit and thus capture the variation across Chitimwe Bed deposits and the artifacts they contained. In some cases, test pits revealed localities that later became the sites of full excavations.

All test pits began as 1 2 m squares, oriented north-south, and excavated in 20-cm arbitrary units, unless there was a noticeable change in sediment color, texture, or inclusions. Sedimentologic and pedologic attributes were recorded for all excavated sediment, which was passed uniformly through a 5-mm dry sieve. If deposit depth continued beyond 0.8 to 1 m, then excavation ceased in one of the two square meters and continued in the other, thus creating a step so that the deeper layers could be safely accessed. Excavation then continued until bedrock was reached, at least 40 cm of archaeologically sterile sediment had been reached below a concentration of artifacts, or excavation became too unsafe (deep) to proceed. In some cases, deposit depth required extension of the test pit into a third square meter, with two steps into the trench.

Geologic test pits had previously revealed that the Chitimwe Beds often appear on geologic maps because of a distinctive reddish color, when they include a wide range of stream and river deposits, alluvial fan deposits, and do not always present as red in color (19). Geologic test pits were excavated as simple pits designed to clean off mixed upper sediments to reveal the subsurface stratigraphy of deposits. This was necessary because the Chitimwe Beds erode as parabolic hillslopes with slumped sediments coating the slope and do not typically form clear natural sections or cuts. These excavations thus occurred either at the tops of Chitimwe Beds, where there was an inferred subsurface contact between the Chitimwe Beds and the underlying Pliocene Chiwondo Beds, or where river terrace deposits required dating (55).

Full archaeological excavations proceeded at localities that promised large assemblages of in situ stone artifacts, typically based on test pits or where artifacts could be seen eroding in large quantities from a slope. Artifacts from the main excavations were recovered from sedimentary units that were excavated separately in 1 1 m squares. Units were excavated as spits of either 10 or 5 cm if artifact densities were high. All stone artifacts, fossil bone, and ochre were piece plotted at each main excavation, with no size cutoff. The sieve size was 5 mm. Artifacts were assigned unique barcoded plotted find numbers if they were recovered during excavation, and find numbers within the same series were assigned to sieved finds. Artifacts were labeled with permanent ink, placed in a bag with their specimen label, and bagged together with other artifacts from the same context. After analysis, all artifacts were stored at the Cultural and Museum Centre, Karonga.

All excavation was conducted according to natural layers. These were subdivided into spits, with spit thickness dependent on artifact density (e.g., spit thickness would be high if artifact density was low). Context data (e.g., sediment attributes, context relationships, and observations about disturbances and artifact densities) were recorded in an Access database. All coordinate data (e.g., piece-plotted finds, context elevations, square corners, and samples) are based on Universal Transverse Mercator (UTM) coordinates (WGS 1984, Zone 36S). At main sites, all points were recorded using a Nikon Nivo C-series 5 total station that was established within a local grid oriented as closely as possible to UTM north. The location of the northwest corner of each excavated site and the volume of sediment removed for each are given in table S5.

Profiles of sedimentologic and pedologic features were documented from all excavation units using the U.S. Department of Agriculture classification scheme (56). Sedimentologic units were designated on the basis of grain sizes, angularity, and bedding features. Anomalous inclusions and disturbances relative to the sediment unit were noted. Soil development was determined on the basis of subsurface accumulation of sesquioxides or carbonates in the subsoils. Subaerial weathering (e.g., redox, residual Mn nodule formation) was also commonly documented.

Collection points for OSL samples were determined on the basis of an estimation of which facies were likely to yield the most reliable estimation of sediment burial age. At sample locations, trenches were made to expose authigenic sediment layers. All samples for OSL dating were collected by inserting light-tight steel tubes (approximately 4 cm in diameter and 25 cm in length) into the sediment profiles.

OSL dating measures the size of the population of trapped electrons within crystals such as quartz or feldspar arising from exposure to ionizing radiation. The bulk of this radiation originates from the decay of radioactive isotopes within the environment with a minor additional component in the tropical latitudes coming in the form of cosmic radiation. Trapped electrons are released upon exposure of the crystals to light, which occurs either during transport (the zeroing event) or in the laboratory, where illumination occurs beneath a sensor (for example, a photomuliplier tube or charged couple device camera) that can detect photons emitted when the electrons return to their ground state. Quartz grains measuring between 150 and 250 m were isolated through sieving, acid treatments and density separations, and analyzed either as small aliquots (<100 grains) mounted to the surface of aluminum disks or as single grains held within 300 by 300 mm wells drilled into an aluminum disc. Burial doses were typically estimated using single aliquot regeneration methods (57). In addition to assessment of the radiation dose received by grains, OSL dating also requires estimation of the dose rate through measurements using gamma spectrometry or neutron activation analysis of radionuclide concentrations within the sediments from which the sample was collected, along with determination of a cosmic dose rate by reference to the sample location and burial depth. Final age determination is achieved by dividing the burial dose by the dose rate. However, statistical modeling is required to determine an appropriate burial dose to use when there is a variation in the doses measured for individual grains or groups of grains. Burial doses were calculated here using the Central Age Model, in the case of single aliquot dating, or the finite mixture model in the case of single grain dating (58).

Three separate laboratories performed OSL analysis for this study. Detailed individual methods for each laboratory are presented below. In general, we applied OSL dating using regenerative-dose methods to small aliquots (tens of grains) rather than using single grain analysis. This is because small aliquots of samples had low recuperation ratios (<2%) during regenerative growth experiments and the OSL signals were not saturated at the levels of natural signals. Interlaboratory consistency of age determinations, consistent harmony of results within and between stratigraphic sections tested, and parity with geomorphic interpretations of 14C ages from carbonates were the primary basis of this assessment. Single grain protocols were evaluated or performed at each laboratory, but independently determined to be inappropriate for use in this study. Detailed methods and analytical protocols followed by individual laboratories are provided in Supplementary Materials and Methods.

Lithic artifacts recovered from controlled excavations (BRU-I; CHA-I, CHA-II, and CHA-III; MGD-I, MGD-II, and MGD-III; and SS-I) were analyzed and described according to metric and qualitative characteristics. Weight and maximum dimension were measured for each artifact (weight was measured to 0.1 g using a digital scale; all dimensions measured to 0.01 mm with Mitutoyo digital calipers). All artifacts were also classified according to raw material (quartz, quartzite, chert, and other), grain size (fine, medium, and coarse), grain size homogeneity, color, cortex type and coverage, weathering/edge rounding, and technological class (complete or fragmentary core or flake, flake piece/angular shatter, hammerstone, manuport, and other).

Cores were measured along their maximum length; maximum width; width at 15, 50, and 85% of length; maximum thickness; and thickness at 15, 50, and 85% of length. Measurements were also taken to assess the volumetric attributes of hemispherically organized (radial and Levallois) cores. Both complete and broken cores were classified according to reduction method (single or multiplatform, radial, Levallois, and other), and flake scars were counted at both 15 mm and at 20% of core length. Cores with five or fewer scars 15 mm were classified as casual. Cortex coverage was recorded for the total core surface, and on hemispherically organized cores, the relative cortex coverage was recorded for each side.

Flakes were measured along their maximum length; maximum width; width at 15, 50, and 85% of length; maximum thickness; and thickness at 15, 50, and 85% of length. Fragmentary flakes were described according to the portion preserved (proximal, medial, distal, split right, and split left). Elongation was calculated by dividing maximum length by maximum width. Platform width, thickness, and exterior platform angle were measured on complete flakes and proximal flake fragments, and platforms were classified according to degree of preparation. Cortex coverage and location were recorded on all flakes and fragments. Distal edges were classified according to termination type (feather, hinge, and overshot). On complete flakes, the number and orientation of prior flake scars were recorded. When encountered, retouch location and invasiveness were recorded following the protocol established by Clarkson (59). Refitting programs were initiated for most of the excavated assemblages to assess reduction methods and site depositional integrity.

Lithic artifacts recovered from test pits (CS-TP1-21, SS-TP1-16, and NGA-TP1-8) were described according to a simpler scheme than those from controlled excavations. For each artifact, the following characteristics were recorded: raw material, grain size, cortex coverage, size class, weathering/edge damage, technological component, and preserved portion of fragmentary pieces. Descriptive notes were recorded for diagnostic features of flakes and cores.

Intact blocks of sediment were cut from profiles exposed in excavations and geological trenches. These blocks were stabilized in the field, using either plaster-of-Paris bandages or toilet paper and packaging tape, and transported to the Geoarchaeology Laboratory at the University of Tbingen, Germany. There, the samples were dried at 40C for at least 24 hours. They were then indurated under vacuum, using a mixture of unpromoted polyester resin and styrene at a ratio of 7:3. Methyethylketone peroxide was used as the catalyst, with resin-styrene mixture (3 to 5 ml/liter). Once the resin mixture had gelled, the samples were heated at 40C for at least 24 hours to completely harden the mixture. The hardened samples were cut with a tile saw into chips measuring 6 9 cm, which were glued to a glass slide and ground to a thickness of 30 m. The resulting thin sections were scanned using a flatbed scanner and analyzed under the naked eye and under magnification (50 to 200) using plane-polarized light, cross-polarized light, oblique incident light, and blue-light fluorescence. Terminology and descriptions of the thin sections follow guidelines published by Stoops (60) and Courty et al. (61). Pedogenic carbonate nodules, collected from a depth of >80 cm, were sliced in half so that one half could be impregnated and studied in thin section (4.5 2.6 cm), using standard stereoscopic and petrographic microscopes, as well as cathodoluminescence (CL) microscopy. Control on the type of carbonate was given much care, as pedogenic carbonates form in connection to a stable ground surface, while groundwater carbonates form independently from a ground surface or soil.

Samples were drilled from the cut faces of pedogenic carbonate nodules, which were halved to be used for various analyses. The thin sections were studied by F.S. with standard stereo and petrographic microscopes of the working group for geoarchaeology and with a CL microscope at the working group for experimental mineralogy, both in Tbingen, Germany. Subsamples for radiocarbon dating were drilled with a precision drill from designated areas of ca. 3 mm in diameter in the opposing half of the nodule, avoiding zones with late recrystallization, abundant mineral inclusions, or great variability in calcite crystal sizes. The same protocol could not be followed for samples MEM-5038, MEM-5035, and MEM-5055 A, which were selected from loose sediment samples and too small to be cut in half for thin sectioning. However, corresponding micromorphological samples of the adjacent sediment, including carbonate nodules, were studied in thin section.

We submitted samples for 14C dating to the Center for Applied Isotope Studies (CAIS), at the University of Georgia, Athens, USA. The carbonate samples were reacted with 100% phosphoric acid in evacuated reaction vessels to produce CO2. CO2 samples were cryogenically purified from the other reaction products and catalytically converted to graphite. Graphite 14C/13C ratios were measured using a 0.5-MeV accelerator mass spectrometer. The sample ratios were compared to the ratio measured from the oxalic acid I standard (NBS SRM 4990). Carrara marble (IAEA C1) was used as the background, and travertine (IAEA C2) was used as a secondary standard. The results are presented as percent modern carbon, and the quoted uncalibrated dates are given in radiocarbon years before 1950 (years BP), using the 14C half-life of 5568 years. The error is quoted as 1- and reflects both statistical and experimental errors. The dates have been corrected for isotope fractionation based on the isotope-ratio mass spectrometrymeasured 13C values reported by C. Wissing at the laboratory for Biogeology in Tbingen, Germany, except in the case of UGAMS-35944r, which was measured at CAIS. Sample 6887B was analyzed in duplicate. A second subsample was drilled from the nodule for this purpose (UGAMS-35944r) from the sampling region indicated on the cut surface. All samples were corrected for atmospheric fractionation of 14C to 2- using the southern hemisphere application of the INTCAL20 calibration curve (table S4) (62).

Sample (sediment, 0.7 g) was mixed with 0.1% preboiled solution of sodium hexametaphosphate Na6[(PO3)6] and sonicated (5 min). Orbital shaking took place overnight at 200 rpm. After clay dispersal, 3 N hydrochloric and nitric acids (HCl) (HNO3) plus hydrogen peroxide (H2O2) were added. Then, sodium polytungstate (3Na2WO49WO3H2O) (Poly-Gee) at specific gravity 2.4 (preboiled) separated out phytoliths. This was followed by rinsing and centrifugation of samples at 3000 rpm for 5 min. Aliquots (15 l) were mounted on boiled microscope slides with Entellan New (cover, 20 40 mm = inspected area). System microscopy was performed at 40 (Olympus BX41, Motic BA410E). Classification nomenclature followed the International Code for Phytolith Nomenclature (63). The referential baseline included modern plants from several African ecoregions (64) and local soils (65), as well as archaeological localities in the Malawi basin (19, 66).

The OSL data from the landscape and paleoecological data from the Lake Malawi 1B/1C core were subjected to statistical analyses to examine how they changed before and after ~85 ka. Kernel density estimates (KDEs) of sedimentation were constructed following protocols developed in Vermeesch (67) and Kappler et al. (68) from 72 luminescence ages interpreted as originating from alluvial fan deposits (tables S1 to S3). KDEs provide reliable distributions of age occurrences when standard errors (SEs) overlap or the analytical imprecision of the true age is high (67). For the present analysis, each age was replotted 10,000 times along a normal distribution using the rnorm command in R based on the laboratory generated mean and 1- SE. The KDE was created in the kde1d package in R (69). Bandwidth was set to default, with data-derived parameters developed by Sheather and Jones (70).

To characterize the biotic environment, we used proportions of pollen from Poaceae, Podocarpus, miombo, and Olea. We used lake levels to characterize the abiotic environment. Over the ~636 ka span of the MAL05-1B/1C core for which pollen data are available, there have been several periods when lake level was equivalent to modern conditions. We have defined these analogous conditions by downsampling the published lake level data (21) to fit the pollen sample intervals (25), and then calculating the statistical mean of the principal components analysis (PCA) eigenvalue for all lake level proxies over the past 74 ka to represent modern-like lake conditions. The pollen sampling intervals effectively make this the statistical mean of lake levels between 21.4 and 56.2 ka [0.130- and 0.198- (25)] and enable us to compare recent vegetation composition to its composition during older, analogous precipitation regimes.

To evaluate whether there were differences in the regional environmental structure before and after 85 ka, we conducted a NP-MANOVA (71). However, vegetation and lake level proxies are inherently different data types [pollen proportions (25) and the first principal component of all lake level proxies (21), respectively]. To conduct the MANOVA, these data must be the same type. Pollen, lake level proxies, and macrocharcoal were also sampled at different densities and intervals in the cores. To properly adjust the data so that once a single pollen sample and its age are matched to a single charcoal and lake level sample, we conducted a series of transformations. Because the pollen data were the most sparsely sampled, we used a spline to fit and downsample the lake level and charcoal data to match them. To make the pollen and lake level data equivalent, we conducted a PCoA using R software (72). PCoA is similar to the widely known PCA in that PCoA conducts a decomposition of a data matrix to obtain eigenvalues and their corresponding eigenvectors. The difference is that while PCA decomposes the variance-covariance matrix, PCoA solves for the eigenvalues of a distance matrix of the original data. To create the distance matrix, we used the 2 distance, which is appropriate for proportion data, like pollen. The PCoA results in a set of scores, representing the original data, which can be plotted similar to PCA. In our case, these scores are not only useful for graphic illustration, but as they are normalized and Euclidean, they are identical to the lake level data and maintain all information contained by the original pollen dataset. This procedure allowed us to use the PCoA pollen scores in conjunction with lake level variable in the NP-MANOVA to test whether there was a difference in environment before and after 85 ka. For the Supplementary Materials statistics, biplots of species richness and lake level were constructed using the ggplot2 package of R. Box and whiskers quartiles used the boxplot command in base R.

D. Delvaux, Peri-Tethys Memoir: PeriTethyan Rift/Wrench Basins and Passive Margins, P. A. Ziegler, W. Cavazza, A. H. F. Robertson, S. Crasquin-Soleau, Eds. (Memoirs of the National Museum of Natural History, Paris 2001), pp. 545567.

N. van Breemen, P. Buurman, Soil Formation, N. van Breemen, P. Buurman, Eds. (Springer Netherlands, Dordrecht, 1998), pp. 291312.

C. Whitlock, C. Larsen, Charcoal as a fire proxy, in Tracking Environmental Change Using Lake Sediments: Terrestrial, Algal, and Siliceous Indicators, J. P. Smol, H. J. B. Birks, W. M. Last, R. S. Bradley, K. Alverson, Eds. (Springer Netherlands, 2001), pp. 7597.

P. J. Schoeneberger, D. A. Wysocki, E. C. Benham; Soil Survey Staff, Field Book for Describing and Sampling Soils, Version 3.0 (Natural Resources Conservation Service, National Soil Survey Center, 2012).

G. Stoops, Guidelines for Analysis and Description of Soil and Regolith Thin Sections (Soil Science Society of America, Inc., 2003).

M. A. Courty, P. Goldberg, R. Macphail, Soils and Micromorphology in Archaeology (Cambridge Manuals in Archaeology, Cambridge Univ. Press, 1989).

R Core Team, R: A Language and Environment for Statistical Computing (R Foundation for Statistical Computing, 2020).

W. R. Van Schumus, Natural radioactivity in crust and mantle, in Global Earth Physics: A Handbook of Physical Constants, T. J. Ahrens, Ed. (American Geophysical Union, 1995), pp. 283291.

M. J. Aitken, An Introduction to Optical Dating: The Dating of Quaternary Sediments by the Use of Photon-Stimulated Luminescence (Oxford Univ. Press, 1998).

A. M. Alonso-Zarza, V. P. Wright, Calcretes, in Carbonates in Continental Settings: Facies, Environments and Processes, Developments in Sedimentology, A. M. Alonso-Zarza, L. H. Tanner, Eds. (Elsevier, 2010), vol. 61, pp. 225267.

G. M. Ashley, D. M. Deocampo, J. Kahmann-Robinson, S. G. Driese, Groundwater-fed wetland sediments and paleosols: Its all about water table, in New Frontiers In Paleopedology And Terrestrial Paleoclimatology, S. G. Driese, L. C. Nordt, Eds. (SEPM Society for Sedimentary Geology, 2013), vol. 104, pp. 4761.

M. N. Machette, Calcic Soils of the Southwestern United States, in Soils and Quaternary Geology of the Southwestern United States: Geological Society of America Special Paper, D. L. Weide, M. L. Faber, Eds. (Geological Society of America, 1985), vol. 203, pp. 121.

A. M. Alonso-Zarza, V. P. Wright, Palustrine carbonates, in Carbonates in Continental Settings: Facies, Environments and Processes, Developments in Sedimentology A. M. Alonso-Zarza, L. H. Tanner, Eds. (Elsevier, 2010), vol. 61, pp. 103131.

A. S. Goudie, Calcrete, in Chemical Sediments and Geomorphology, A. S. Goudie, K. Pye, Eds. (Academic Press, 1983), pp. 93131.

R. J. Schaetzl, S. Anderson, Soil Genesis and Geomorphology (Cambridge Univ. Press, 2005).

V. P. Wright, Calcrete, in Geochemical Sediments and Landscapes, D. J. Nash, S. J. McLaren, Eds. (Blackwell Publishing, 2007), pp. 1045.

G. Taylor, R. A. Eggleton, Regolith Geology and Geomorphology (John Wiley & Sons, Chicester, 2001).

V. P. Wright, Soil Micromorphology: A Basic and Applied Science, L. A. Douglas, Ed. (Elsevier, 1990), pp. 401407.

M. J. Vepraskas, L. P. Wilding, L. R. Drees, Aquic conditions for Soil Taxonomy: Concepts, soil morphology and micromorphology, in Developments in Soil Science, A. J. Ringrose-Voase, G. S. Humphreys, Eds. (Elsevier, 1993), vol. 22, pp. 117131.

M. J. McFarlane, Laterite and Landscape (Academic Press, 1976).

J. E. Delvigne, Atlas of Micromorphology of Mineral Alteration and Weathering (Mineralogical Association of Canada, 1998).

I. Kovda, A. R. Mermut, Vertic features, in Interpretation of Micromorphological Features of Soils and Regoliths, G. Stoops, V. Marcelino, F. Mees, Eds. (Elsevier, 2010), pp. 109127.

Y. Tardy, Petrology of Laterites and Tropical Soils (A. A. Balkema Publishers, 1997).

K. Faegri, J. Iversen, P. E. Kaland, K. Krzywinski, Textbook of Pollen Analysis (Blackburn Press, ed. 4th, 1989).

R. Bonnefille, G. Riollet, Pollens de Savanes dAfrique Orientale (ditions du Centre national de la recherche scientifique, Paris, 1980).

E. C. Grimm, Tilia and Tiliagraph (Illinois State Museum, 1991).

B. M. Campbell, The Miombo in transition: Woodlands and welfare in Africa (Bogor, Indonesia, Center for International Forestry Research, 1996).

The rest is here:
Early human impacts and ecosystem reorganization in southern-central Africa - Science Advances

Early humans used fire to permanently change the landscape – PBS NewsHour

Fields of rust-colored soil, spindly cassava, small farms and villages dot the landscape. Dust and smoke blur the mountains visible beyond massive Lake Malawi. Here in tropical Africa, you cant escape the signs of human presence.

How far back in time would you need to go in this place to discover an entirely natural environment?

Our work has shown that it would be a very long time indeed at least 85,000 years, eight times earlier than the worlds first land transformations via agriculture.

We are part of an interdisciplinary collaboration between archaeologists who study past human behavior, geochronologists who study the timing of landscape change and paleoenvironmental scientists who study ancient environments. By combining evidence from these research specialities, we have identified an instance in the very distant past of early humans bending environments to suit their needs. In doing so, they transformed the landscape around them in ways still visible today.

Crew members excavate artifacts at a site in Karonga, Malawi, where stone tools are buried more than 3 feet (1 meter) below the modern ground surface. Jessica Thompson, CC BY-ND

The dry season is the best time to do archaeological fieldwork here, and finding sites is easy. Most places we dig in these red soils, we find stone artifacts. They are evidence that someone sat and skillfully broke stones to create edges so sharp they can still draw blood. Many of these stone tools can be fit back together, reconstructing a single action by a single person, from tens of thousands of years ago.

Middle Stone Age artifacts, some of which can be fit back together. Sheila Nightingale, CC BY-ND

So far weve recovered more than 45,000 stone artifacts here, buried many feet (1 to 7 meters) below the surface of the ground. The sites we are excavating date to a time ranging from about 315,000 to 30,000 years ago known as the Middle Stone Age. This was also a period in Africa when innovations in human behavior and creativity pop up frequently and earlier than anywhere else in the world.

How did these artifacts get buried? Why are there so many of them? And what were these ancient hunter-gatherers doing as they made them? To answer these questions, we needed to figure out more about what was happening in this place during their time.

The Viphya drill barge on Lake Malawi, where researchers braved waterspouts and lake fly swarms to obtain a long record of past environments. Andy Cohen, CC BY-ND

For a clearer picture of the environments where these early humans lived, we turned to the fossil record preserved in layers of mud at the bottom of Lake Malawi. Over millennia, pollen blown into the water and tiny lake-dwelling organisms became trapped in layers of muck on the lakes floor. Members of our collaborative team extracted a 1,250-foot (380-meter) drill core of mud from a modified barge, then painstakingly tallied the microscopic fossils it contained, layer by layer. They then used them to reconstruct ancient environments across the entire basin.

Today, this region is characterized by bushy, fire-tolerant open woodlands that do not develop a thick and enclosed canopy. Forests that do develop these canopies harbor the richest diversity in vegetation; this ecosystem is now restricted to patches that occur at higher elevations. But these forests once stretched all the way to the lakeshore.

Based on the fossil plant evidence present at various times in the drill cores, we could see that the area around Lake Malawi repeatedly alternated between wet times of forest expansion and dry periods of forest contraction.

As the area underwent cycles of aridity, driven by natural climate change, the lake shrank at times to only 5% of its present volume. When lake levels eventually rose each time, forests encroached on the shoreline. This happened time and time again over the last 636,000 years.

The mud in the core also contains a record of fire history, in the form of tiny fragments of charcoal. Those little flecks told us that around 85,000 years ago, something strange happened around Lake Malawi. Charcoal production spiked, erosion increased and, for the first time in more than half a million years, rainfall did not bring forest recovery.

At the same time this charcoal burst appears in the drill core record, our sites began to show up in the archaeological record eventually becoming so numerous that they formed one continuous landscape littered with stone tools. Another drill core immediately offshore showed that as site numbers increased, more and more charcoal was washing into the lake. Early humans had begun to make their first permanent mark on the landscape.

Many people around the world still rely on fire for warmth, cooking, ritual and socializing including the research crew when doing fieldwork. Jessica Thompson, CC BY-ND

Fire use is a technology that stretches back at least a million years. Using it in such a transformative way is human innovation at its most powerful. Modern hunter-gatherers use fire to warm themselves, cook food and socialize, but many also deploy it as an engineering tool. Based on the wide-scale and permanent transformation of vegetation into more fire-tolerant woodlands, we infer that this was what these ancient hunter-gatherers were doing.

By converting the natural seasonal rhythm of wildfire into something more controlled, people can encourage specific areas of vegetation to grow at different stages. This so-called pyrodiversity establishes miniature habitat patches and diversifies opportunities for foraging, kind of like increasing product selection at a supermarket.

The research team exposes ancient stone tools near Karonga, Malawi. Jessica Thompson, CC BY-ND

Just like today, changing any part of an ecosystem has consequences everywhere else. With the loss of closed forests in ancient Malawi, the vegetation became dominated by more open woodlands that are resilient to fire but these did not contain the same species diversity. This combination of rainfall and reduced tree cover also increased opportunities for erosion, which spread sediments into a thick blanket known as an alluvial fan. It sealed away archaeological sites and created the landscape you can see here today.

Although the spread of farmers through Africa within the last few thousand years brought about more landscape and vegetation transformations, we have found that the legacy of human impacts was already in place tens of thousands of years before. This offers a chance to understand how such impacts can be sustained over very long timescales.

Open woodlands have grown over alluvial fans that formed during the Middle Stone Age. Trenches such as this one at an excavation site show multiple layers of discarded artifacts over a period of tens of thousands of years. Jessica Thompson, CC BY-ND

Most people associate human impacts with a time after the Industrial Revolution, but paleo-scientists have a deeper perspective. With it, researchers like us can see that wherever and whenever humans lived, we must abandon the idea of pristine nature, untouched by any human imprint. However, we can also see how humans shaped their environments in sustainable ways over very long periods, causing ecosystem transformation without collapse.

Seeing the long arc of human influence therefore gives us much to consider about not only our past, but also our future. By establishing long-term ecological patterns, conservation efforts related to fire control, species protection and human food security can be more targeted and effective. People living in the tropics, such as Malawi today, are especially vulnerable to the economic and social impacts of food insecurity brought about by climate change. By studying the deep past, we can establish connections between long-term human presence and the biodiversity that sustains it.

With this knowledge, people can be better equipped to do what humans had already innovated nearly 100,000 years ago in Africa: manage the world around us.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Read this article:
Early humans used fire to permanently change the landscape - PBS NewsHour

Some COVID metrics improve in Colorado, but experts concerned about high rate of hospital admissions – coloradopolitics.com

The average number of COVID-19 cases identified daily in Colorado has fallen by nearly a third since late April, a sign that the state is heading "in a positive direction," one expert said. But another warned that continued high levels of hospital admissions means that the fourth pandemic wave is not yet over.

On April 25, Colorado was averaging 1,731 new COVID-19 cases each day, the most since Jan. 19. But the numbers have fallen nearly every day since then, and the state has averaged 1,182 new cases over the past week. What's more, the average positivity rate, which had topped 6% for the first time since Jan. 14, has also dropped consistently and is now back below 5%.

"Colorado is heading in a positive direction again, and vaccination coverage is almost certainly playing a key role in this decline," said Glen Mays, chair of the Colorado School of Public Health's department of health systems.

"The weather and human behavior are also trending toward safer situations in terms of well-ventilated settings and interactions."

While the numbers are a heartening sign, there are other, more worrying metrics. Elizabeth Carlton, also of the school of public health, said she most closely tracked hospitalizations and noted that Colorado was averaging roughly 100 new COVID-19 hospital admissions each day since April 28.

As of Monday afternoon, there were 653 Coloradans hospitalized with COVID, plus another 50 suspected to have the disease. Though that's lower than two days previously, it remains higher than nearly any other point since late January.

"What does that mean?" Carlton said in an email. "That the number of people developing severe COVID-19 in Colorado doesnt appear to be declining right now."

Dr. Jon Samet, the dean of the public health school, echoed her concern about hospitalizations.

"Case numbers are dropping, but hospitalizations are stable at a plateau in the mid-600s," he wrote in an email to The Gazette on Monday. "Hopefully, since case numbers are a leading indicator, we will see a drop in hospitalizations over the next few weeks."

Carlton and Mays said that vaccinations do appear to be helping prevent infections, as well as hospitalizations and deaths among the state's oldest and most vulnerable residents. Carlton said that without the vaccine, the current situation "would be far worse."

Carlton and other public health experts released a modeling report last week, which looked at data in late April. In it, researchers echoed the clear benefits the vaccine has had on Coloradans most at risk for severe disease and death.

"The benefits of vaccination are clear for older Coloradans," they wrote. "We estimate that approximately 41% of Coloradans overall and >80% of those over age 65 are currently immune due to vaccination and/or prior infection."

But the report also estimated that roughly 1 in 86 Coloradans were infectious then, "much higher than mid-March." The virus was more prevalent in Colorado than it had been since December, as of the report's data analysis in late April.

Researchers wrote that infection control meaning measures taken to blunt the spread, like masking and social distancing had fallen to 56%, which is also lower than it had been in weeks. Mobility, meaning the amount of time people spent away from home, "is reaching its highest levels since the start of the pandemic."

Given the low infection control, the researchers warned that, should that trend continue, "the epidemic curve will not decline to previous lower levels until after August."

Carlton said that though she hoped for a decline in severe COVID cases, "there are ways we could see further increase in severe COVID-19 and infections." She said the state is at a "critical point in terms of vaccinations," particularly with the news Monday that federal regulators cleared the way for Americans between the ages of 12 and 15 to be vaccinated. Carlton called that "a game changer."

"The bad news is that vaccine demand in adults has slowed," she added. "If Colorado can achieve high levels of vaccination across all eligible age groups, then we should see hospitalizations and infections decline in the weeks ahead. If those that are currently unvaccinated remain unvaccinated, a return to pre-pandemic policies and behaviors presents the risk of further increase in infections, hospitalizations and deaths."

More here:
Some COVID metrics improve in Colorado, but experts concerned about high rate of hospital admissions - coloradopolitics.com

Even 85,000 Years Later, We Can Still See How Early Humans Shaped The Land With Fire – ScienceAlert

Fields of rust-colored soil, spindly cassava, small farms, and villages dot the landscape. Dust and smoke blur the mountains visible beyond massive Lake Malawi. Here in tropical Africa, you can't escape the signs of human presence.

How far back in time would you need to go in this place to discover an entirely natural environment?

Our work has shown that it would be a very long time indeed at least 85,000 years, eight times earlier than the world's first land transformations via agriculture.

We are part of an interdisciplinary collaboration between archaeologists who study past human behavior, geochronologists who study the timing of landscape change, and paleoenvironmental scientists who study ancient environments.

By combining evidence from these research specialities, we have identified an instance in the very distant past of early humans bending environments to suit their needs. In doing so, they transformed the landscape around them in ways still visible today.

The dry season is the best time to do archaeological fieldwork here, and finding sites is easy.

Most places we dig in these red soils, we find stone artifacts. They are evidence that someone sat and skillfully broke stones to create edges so sharp they can still draw blood.

Many of these stone tools can be fit back together, reconstructing a single action by a single person, from tens of thousands of years ago.

So far we've recovered more than 45,000 stone artifacts here, buried many feet (1 to 7 meters) below the surface of the ground.

The sites we are excavating date to a time ranging from about 315,000 to 30,000 years ago known as the Middle Stone Age. This was also a period in Africa when innovations in human behavior and creativity pop up frequently and earlier than anywhere else in the world.

How did these artifacts get buried? Why are there so many of them? And what were these ancient hunter-gatherers doing as they made them? To answer these questions, we needed to figure out more about what was happening in this place during their time.

For a clearer picture of the environments where these early humans lived, we turned to the fossil record preserved in layers of mud at the bottom of Lake Malawi.

Over millennia, pollen blown into the water and tiny lake-dwelling organisms became trapped in layers of muck on the lake's floor.

Members of our collaborative team extracted a 1,250-foot (380-meter) drill core of mud from a modified barge, then painstakingly tallied the microscopic fossils it contained, layer by layer.They then used them to reconstruct ancient environments across the entire basin.

Today, this region is characterized by bushy, fire-tolerant open woodlands that do not develop a thick and enclosed canopy.

Forests that do develop these canopies harbor the richest diversity in vegetation; this ecosystem is now restricted to patches that occur at higher elevations. But these forests once stretched all the way to the lakeshore.

Based on the fossil plant evidence present at various times in the drill cores, we could see that the area around Lake Malawi repeatedly alternated between wet times of forest expansion and dry periods of forest contraction.

As the area underwent cycles of aridity, driven by natural climate change, the lake shrank at times to only 5 percent of its present volume. When lake levels eventually rose each time, forests encroached on the shoreline. This happened time and time again over the last 636,000 years.

The mud in the core also contains a record of fire history, in the form of tiny fragments of charcoal. Those little flecks told us that around 85,000 years ago, something strange happened around Lake Malawi. Charcoal production spiked, erosion increased, and, for the first time in more than half a million years, rainfall did not bring forest recovery.

At the same time, this charcoal burst appears in the drill core record, our sites began to show up in the archaeological record eventually becoming so numerous that they formed one continuous landscape littered with stone tools.

Another drill core immediately offshore showed that as site numbers increased, more and more charcoal was washing into the lake.

Early humans had begun to make their first permanent mark on the landscape.

Fire use is a technology that stretches back at least a million years. Using it in such a transformative way is human innovation at its most powerful. Modern hunter-gatherers use fire to warm themselves, cook food and socialize, but many also deploy it as an engineering tool.

Based on the wide-scale and permanent transformation of vegetation into more fire-tolerant woodlands, we infer that this was what these ancient hunter-gatherers were doing.

By converting the natural seasonal rhythm of wildfire into something more controlled, people can encourage specific areas of vegetation to grow at different stages.

This so-called "pyrodiversity" establishes miniature habitat patches and diversifies opportunities for foraging, kind of like increasing product selection at a supermarket.

Just like today, changing any part of an ecosystem has consequences everywhere else.

With the loss of closed forests in ancient Malawi, the vegetation became dominated by more open woodlands that are resilient to fire but these did not contain the same species diversity.

This combination of rainfall and reduced tree cover also increased opportunities for erosion, which spread sediments into a thick blanket known as an alluvial fan. It sealed away archaeological sites and created the landscape you can see here today.

Although the spread of farmers through Africa within the last few thousand years brought about more landscape and vegetation transformations, we have found that the legacy of human impacts was already in place tens of thousands of years before. This offers a chance to understand how such impacts can be sustained over very long timescales.

Most people associate human impacts with a time after the Industrial Revolution, but paleo-scientists have a deeper perspective.

With it, researchers like us can see that wherever and whenever humans lived, we must abandon the idea of "pristine nature," untouched by any human imprint. However, we can also see how humans shaped their environments in sustainable ways over very long periods, causing ecosystem transformation without collapse.

Seeing the long arc of human influence, therefore, gives us much to consider about not only our past, but also our future.

By establishing long-term ecological patterns, conservation efforts related to fire control, species protection and human food security can be more targeted and effective.

People living in the tropics, such as Malawi today, are especially vulnerable to the economic and social impacts of food insecurity brought about by climate change.

By studying the deep past, we can establish connections between long-term human presence and the biodiversity that sustains it.

With this knowledge, people can be better equipped to do what humans had already innovated nearly 100,000 years ago in Africa: manage the world around us.

Jessica Thompson, Assistant Professor of Anthropology, Yale University; David K. Wright, Professor of Archaeology, Conservation and History, University of Oslo, and Sarah Ivory, Assistant Professor of Geosciences, Penn State.

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

Read the original:
Even 85,000 Years Later, We Can Still See How Early Humans Shaped The Land With Fire - ScienceAlert

Researchers Say They’ve Uncovered a Massive Facebook Bot Farm From the 2020 Election Mother Jones – Mother Jones

Let our journalists help you make sense of the noise: Subscribe to the Mother Jones Daily newsletter and get a recap of news that matters.

A group of security researchers say theyve unmasked a massive bot farm that aimed to shape public opinion onFacebook during the heat of the 2020 presidential election.

According to Paul Bischoff of Comparitech, a British cybersecurity company, the network includes 13,775 unique Facebook accounts that each posted roughly 15 times per month, for an output of more than 50,000 posts a week. Theaccounts appear to have been used for political manipulation, Bischoff says, with roughly half the posts being related to political topics and another 17 percent related to COVID-19. Each account has a profile photo and friends listlikely consisting of other bots, the researchers suggestand theyve joined specific Facebook groups where their posts are more likely to be seen and discussed by legitimate users.

The most-used keyword in the posts was Trump, the researchers found, followed by Biden. The accounts date back at least as far as October 2020, and, in addition to posts discussing specific events in the 2020 US presidential elections, were also active aroundthe California wildfires, protests in Belarus, and US border issues. The researchers were able to determine that the fake accounts were created and controlled using Selenium, software designed to automate web application testing, but that can also be used to mimic human behavior in ways that could be difficult for automated bot detection software to spot.

According to a Comparitech spokesperson,Facebook did not respond toBob Diachenko, an independent cybersecurity expert who helped lead the research, when he attempted to bring the teamss findings to the platforms attention.A Facebook representative said the company would look into a sample of the accounts identified by Comparitech, but declined further comment.

Facebook has become much more active and aggressive at publicly identifying and taking down what it calls coordinated inauthentic behavior operating on the platform since the 2016 Russian election interference operation. Such inauthentic activity, which the company defines as when posters seek to mislead people about who they are and what they are doing while relying on fake accounts, can include government-backed or private efforts. Just last month, the company claims it had removed 1,565 suspect Facebook accounts, along with 141 Instagram accounts, 724 pages, and 63 groups.

The Comparitech researchers were able to see the email addresses that purportedly registered the phony Facebook accounts. While many used mail[.]ru accounts seemingly originating in Russia, the researchers did not allege who was behind the bot farm, or who controlled the unsecured server.

See original here:
Researchers Say They've Uncovered a Massive Facebook Bot Farm From the 2020 Election Mother Jones - Mother Jones

Readers Write: Gun-carry permits imperil public health – Opinions – The Island Now

It is horrifying to think that there are those like Jeffrey Wiesenfeld who are bemoaning the lack of issuing gun carry permits.

Whether it be open-carry or concealed carry permits, they still involve lethal weapons. Gun possession can lead to increased crime, a homicide or accidental death.

A study by The American Journal of Public Health concluded that an individual carrying a gun for self-defense was more likely to be shot during an assault compared to those who did not have a firearm. Criminals carry guns more often if they think someone else is armed.

I do not negate police brutality, particularly as it applies to the black community. However, we cannot group the police into one category. Like anything else, there are good and bad.

Gun possession is a moral issue besides a political, legislative and health issue. The notion that guns are necessary is morally wrong. We are human beings and the messages of fear, a dog-eat-dog practice should not be indicative of human behavior.

Why not change those messages of firearm defense into ones of emphasizing non-violent

Lois A. Schaffer

Great Neck

Originally posted here:
Readers Write: Gun-carry permits imperil public health - Opinions - The Island Now

Fossil apes and human evolution – Science Magazine

A distinctive ancestor

There has been much focus on the evolution of primates and especially where and how humans diverged in this process. It has often been suggested that the last common ancestor between humans and other apes, especially our closest relative, the chimpanzee, was ape- or chimp-like. Almcija et al. review this area and conclude that the morphology of fossil apes was varied and that it is likely that the last shared ape ancestor had its own set of traits, different from those of modern humans and modern apes, both of which have been undergoing separate suites of selection pressures.

Science, this issue p. eabb4363

Ever since the writings of Darwin and Huxley, humans place in nature relative to apes (nonhuman hominoids) and the geographic origins of the human lineage (hominins) have been heavily debated. Humans diverged from apes [specifically, the chimpanzee lineage (Pan)] at some point between ~9.3 million and ~6.5 million years ago (Ma), and habitual bipedalism evolved early in hominins (accompanied by enhanced manipulation and, later on, cognition). To understand the selective pressures surrounding hominin origins, it is necessary to reconstruct the morphology, behavior, and environment of the Pan-Homo last common ancestor (LCA). Top-down approaches have relied on living apes (especially chimpanzees) to reconstruct hominin origins. However, bottom-up perspectives from the fossil record suggest that modern hominoids represent a decimated and biased sample of a larger ancient radiation and present alternative possibilities for the morphology and geography of the Pan-Homo LCA. Reconciling these two views remains at the core of the human origins problem.

There is no consensus on the phylogenetic positions of the diverse and widely distributed Miocene apes. Besides their fragmentary record, disagreements are due to the complexity of interpreting fossil morphologies that present mosaics of primitive and derived features, likely because of parallel evolution (i.e., homoplasy). This has led some authors to exclude known Miocene apes from the modern hominoid radiation. However, most researchers identify some fossil apes as either stem or crown members of the hominid clade [i.e., preceding the divergence between orangutans (pongines) and African great apes and humans (hominines), or as a part of the modern great ape radiation]. European Miocene apes have prominently figured in discussions about the geographic origin of hominines. Kenyapith apes dispersed from Africa into Eurasia ~16 to 14 Ma, and some of them likely gave rise to the European dryopith apes and the Asian pongines before 12.5 Ma. Some authors interpret dryopiths as stem hominines and support their back-to-Africa dispersal in the latest Miocene, subsequently evolving into modern African apes and hominins. Others interpret dryopiths as broadly ancestral to hominids or an evolutionary dead end.

Increased habitat fragmentation during the late Miocene in Africa might explain the evolution of African ape knuckle walking and hominin bipedalism from an orthograde arboreal ancestor. Bipedalism might have allowed humans to escape the great ape specialization trapan adaptive feedback loop between diet, specialized arboreal locomotion, cognition, and life history. However, understanding the different selection pressures that underlie knuckle walking and bipedalism is hindered by locomotor uncertainties about the Pan-Homo LCA and its Miocene forebears. In turn, the functional interpretation of Miocene ape mosaic morphologies is challenging because it depends on the relevance of primitive features. Furthermore, adaptive complexes can be co-opted to perform new functions during evolution. For instance, features that are functionally related to quadrupedalism or orthogrady can be misinterpreted as bipedal adaptations. Miocene apes show that the orthograde body plan, which predates below-branch suspension, is likely an adaptation for vertical climbing that was subsequently co-opted for other orthograde behaviors, including habitual bipedalism.

Future research efforts on hominin origins should focus on (i) fieldwork in unexplored areas where Miocene apes have yet to be found, (ii) methodological advances in morphology-based phylogenetics and paleoproteomics to retrieve molecular data beyond ancient DNA limits, and (iii) modeling driven by experimental data that integrates morphological and biomechanical information, to test locomotor inferences for extinct taxa. It is also imperative to stop assigning a starring role to each new fossil discovery to fit evolutionary scenarios that are not based on testable hypotheses.

Early hominins likely originated in Africa from a Miocene LCA that does not match any living ape (e.g., it might not have been adapted specifically for suspension or knuckle walking). Despite phylogenetic uncertainties, fossil apes remain essential to reconstruct the starting point from which humans and chimpanzees evolved.

Whereas the phylogenetic relationships among living species can be retrieved using genetic data, the position of most extinct species remains contentious. Surprisingly, complete-enough fossils that can be attributed to the gorilla and chimpanzee lineages remain to be discovered. Assuming different positions of available fossil apes (or ignoring them owing to uncertainty) markedly affects reconstructions of key ancestral nodes, such as that of the chimpanzee-human LCA.

Humans diverged from apes (chimpanzees, specifically) toward the end of the Miocene ~9.3 million to 6.5 million years ago. Understanding the origins of the human lineage (hominins) requires reconstructing the morphology, behavior, and environment of the chimpanzee-human last common ancestor. Modern hominoids (that is, humans and apes) share multiple features (for example, an orthograde body plan facilitating upright positional behaviors). However, the fossil record indicates that living hominoids constitute narrow representatives of an ancient radiation of more widely distributed, diverse species, none of which exhibit the entire suite of locomotor adaptations present in the extant relatives. Hence, some modern ape similarities might have evolved in parallel in response to similar selection pressures. Current evidence suggests that hominins originated in Africa from Miocene ape ancestors unlike any living species.

In 1871, Darwin (1) speculated that humans originated in Africa based on the anatomical similarities with African apes (gorillas and chimpanzees) identified by Huxley (2). However, Darwin urged caution until more fossils became availablethe European Dryopithecus was the only recognized fossil ape at the time (3). After 150 years of continuous discoveries, essential information about human origins remains elusive owing to debates surrounding the interpretation of fossil apes (Figs. 1 and 2).

Extant apes live in (or nearby) densely forested areas around the equator in Africa and Southeast Asia. Except for the recently recognized tapanuli orangutan (which may represent a subspecies of the Sumatran orangutan), each of the three extant great ape genera presently has two geographically separated species. The Congo River (highlighted in dark blue) acts as the current barrier between common chimpanzees (Pan troglodytes) and bonobos (Pan paniscus). Red stars indicate regions with Miocene sediments (spanning ~23 to 5.3 Ma) where fossil apes have been uncovered. (Some regions may contain more than one site; contiguous regions are indicated with different stars if they extend over more than one political zone.) It is possible that modern great ape habitats do not represent the ancestral environments where the great ape and human clade evolved. Paleontologically, the vast majority of Africa, west of the Rift Valley, remains highly unexplored. Extant ape ranges were taken from the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN Red List). Background image sources: Esri, DigitalGlobe, GeoEye, i-cubed, USDA FSA, USGS, AEX, Getmapping, Aerogrid, IGN, IGP, swisstopo, and the GIS user community.

(A) Macaque (above) and chimpanzee (below) in typical postures, showing general differences between pronograde and orthograde body plan characteristics. In comparison to a pronograde monkey, the modern hominoid orthograde body plan is characterized by the lack of an external tail (the coccyx being its vestigial remnant), a ribcage that is mediolaterally broad and dorsoventrally shallow, dorsally placed scapulae that are cranially elevated and oriented, a shorter lower back, and long iliac blades. Modern hominoids have higher ranges of joint mobility, such as the full elbow extension shown here, facilitated by a short ulnar olecranon process. The inset further shows differences in lumbar vertebral anatomy, including more dorsally situated and oriented transverse processes in orthograde hominoids. (B) Representatives of each extant hominoid lineage (left column) show different postural variations associated with an orthograde body plan. The orthograde body plan facilitates bipedal walking in modern humans and different combinations of arboreal climbing and below-branch suspension in apes. Knuckle walking in highly terrestrial African apes is seen as a compromise positional behavior superimposed onto an orthograde ape with long forelimbs relative to the hindlimbs. Associated skeletons of fossil hominoids (right column) show that an orthograde body can be disassociated from specific adaptions for suspension (e.g., Pierolapithecus exhibits shorter and less curved digits than Hispanopithecus). Other fossil apes exhibit primitive monkey-like pronograde body plans with somewhat more modern ape-like forelimbs (e.g., Nacholapithecus). Approximate age in millions of years ago is given to representative fossils of each extinct genus: Ardipithecus (ARA-VP-6/500), Nacholapithecus (KNM-BG35250), Pierolapithecus (IPS21350), Hispanopithecus (IPS18800), and Oreopithecus (IGF 11778). Silhouettes of extant and fossil skeletons are shown at about the same scale.

Genomic data indicate that humans and chimpanzees are sister lineages (hominins and panins, respectively; Box 1) that diverged from a last common ancestor (LCA) toward the end of the Miocene, at some point between ~9.3 million and ~6.5 million years ago (Ma) (4, 5). All extant hominoids (apes and humans) are characterized by the lack of an external tail, high joint mobility (e.g., elbow, wrist, hip), and the possession of an orthograde (upright) body plan, as opposed to the more primitive, pronograde body plan of other anthropoids and most other mammals (Fig. 2). These body plans are associated with two different types of positional (postural and locomotor) behaviors: pronograde behaviors, taking place on nearly horizontal supports with the trunk held roughly horizontally; and orthograde (or antipronograde) behaviors, with the torso positioned vertically (6, 7). Extant ape features also include enhanced joint mobility, long forelimbs relative to hindlimbs, and (except gorillas) long hands with high-to-very-high finger curvature (810). The orthograde body plan is generally interpreted as a suspensory adaptation (11, 12), or as an adaptation for vertical climbing subsequently co-opted for suspension (13).

The adjectives lesser and great refer to the smaller size of the former relative to great apes and human group, not to old evolutionary notions based on the Scala Naturae. Given that some apes are more closely related to humans than to other apes, the word ape is a gradistic term used here informally to refer to all nonhominin hominoids. Finally, the taxonomic convention used (the most common), does not reflect that panins and hominins are monophyletic [although some do; e.g., (169)].

Order Primates

Suborder Strepsirrhini (non-tarsier prosimians: lemurs, galagos and lorises)

Suborder Haplorrhini (tarsiers and simians)

Infraorder Tarsiiformes (tarsiers)

Infraorder Simiiformes (or Anthropoidea: simians or anthropoids)

Parvorder Platyrrhini (New World monkeys)

Parvorder Catarrhini (Old World simians)

Superfamily Cercopithecoidea (Old World monkeys)

Superfamily Hominoidea (apes and humans)

Family Hylobatidae (lesser apes: gibbons and siamangs)

Family Hominidae (great apes and humans)

Subfamily Ponginae (the orangutan lineage)

Genus Pongo (orangutans)

Subfamily Homininae (the African ape and human lineage)

Tribe Gorillini (the gorilla lineage)

Genus Gorilla (gorillas)

Tribe Panini (the chimpanzee lineage)

Genus Pan (common chimpanzees and bonobos)

Tribe Hominini (the human lineage)

Genus Homo (humans)

Based on similarities between chimpanzees and gorillas, a prevalent evolutionary model argues that African apes represent living fossils and that knuckle-walking chimpanzees closely reflect the morphology and behavior of the Pan-Homo LCAthe starting point of human evolution (14, 15). This working paradigm also postulates that modern African apes occupy the same habitats as their ancestors (16) (Fig. 1). This assumption is based on a classical scenario that situates hominin origins in East Africa, owing to environmental changes after the rifting of East African Rift Valley during the Miocene (17). For some, a chimpanzee-like Pan-Homo LCA could also imply that all extant ape locomotor adaptations were inherited from a modern ape-like ancestor (18). However, the fossil record denotes a more complex picture: Miocene apes often display mosaic morphologies, and even those interpreted as crown hominoids do not exhibit all the features present in living apes (19) (Fig. 3).

A time-calibrated phylogenetic tree of living hominoids is depicted next to the spatiotemporal ranges of the fossil hominoids mentioned in the text. Fossil taxa are color coded based on possible phylogenetic hypotheses. The vertical green dashed line indicates that there is a continuity in the African fossil ape record. However, currently, it is sparse between ~14 and 10 Ma. Robust and lasting phylogenetic inferences of apes are difficult, in part, because of the fragmentary nature of the fossil record and probable high levels of homoplasy. Many Miocene ape taxa are represented only by fragmentary dentognathic fossils, and the utility of mandibles and molars for inferring phylogeny in apes has been questioned. Another area of uncertainty relates to the position of many early and middle Miocene African apes relative to the crown hominoid node. The discovery or recognition of more complete early Miocene fossil hylobatids would help resolve their position and, thus, what really defines the great ape and human family. Splitting times are based on the molecular clock estimates of Springer et al. (168) (hominoids and hominids) and Moorjani et al. (4), which are more updated for hominines and Pan-Homo. Silhouettes are not to scale. Shaded boxes represent geographic distributions (green is Africa, gold is Europe, and purple is Asia).

The Pan-like LCA model builds on the East Side Story of hominin origins (17), a seriously challenged scenario. First, it is grounded in the living-ape geographic distribution, which may not match that at the time of the Pan-Homo split (Fig. 1). Second, the model relies on an outdated account of the fossil record (from the 1980s), when the earliest known hominin (Australopithecus afarensis) was recorded in East Africa, and no possible fossil gorillas and chimpanzees were known (17). Subsequent fossil discoveries are incompatible with such a narrative: Australopithecus remains from Chad indicate that early hominins were living ~2500 km west of the East African Rift ~3.5 Ma (20). Furthermore, if Sahelanthropus is a hominin, it would push back the human lineage presence in north-central Africa to ~7 Ma (21). Moreover, continued fieldwork efforts in less explored areas have shown that hominoids lived across Afro-Arabia during the Miocene (2225). In addition, remains of putative hominines have been found in East Africa (26, 27), perhaps even in Europe (28, 29). Finally, paleoenvironmental reconstructions for late Miocene apes and hominins suggest that the Pan-Homo LCA inhabited woodlands, not tropical rainforests (3033).

Current debates about the transition from an ape into a bipedal hominin are centered on the morphological and locomotor reconstruction of the Pan-Homo LCA, as well as its paleobiogeography. Discrepancies are caused by conflicting evolutionary signals among living and fossil hominoids, indicating rampant homoplasy (independent evolution causing false homology), and are further complicated by the highly incomplete and fragmentary nature of the hominoid fossil record. This review argues that, despite the limitations, the information provided by fossil apes is essential to inform evolutionary scenarios of human origins.

Since Linnaeus established modern taxonomy in 1758 (34) and until the 1960s, morphological similarity was the main basis for classifying organisms. Linnaeus included modern humans (Homo sapiens) within the order Primates, but it was not until 1863 that Huxley provided the first systematic review of differences and similarities between humans and apes (2). Imagining himself as a scientific Saturnian, Huxley stated that, The structural differences between Man and the Man-like apes certainly justify our regarding him as constituting a family apart from them; though, inasmuch as he differs less from them than they do from other families of the same order, there can be no justification for placing him in a distinct order [(2), p. 104]. Huxleys work was motivated by widespread claims (e.g., Cuvier, Owen) that humans uniqueness warranted their placement in a separate order. Darwin concurred with Huxley that humans should be classified in their own family within primates (1).

We now know that most human features are primitive traits inherited from primate (e.g., trichromatic stereoscopic vision, manual grasping) or earlier (e.g., five digits) ancestors (35). Even humans distinctively large brains and delayed maturation are framed within a primate trend of increased encephalization and slower life history compared with other mammals (35, 36). Some differences in brain size may partly reflect a neocortex enlargement related to enhanced visual and grasping abilities (37). Like extant great apes, humans display larger body size, larger relative brain size, a slower life-history profile, and more elaborate cognitive abilities than other primates (hylobatids included) (36). However, modern humans are extreme outliers in terms of delayed maturation, encephalization, advanced cognition, and manual dexterity, ultimately leading to symbolic language and technology (38).

Anatomically, only two adaptive complexes represent synapomorphies present in all hominins: the loss of the canine honing complex and features related to habitual bipedalism (33, 39). Most anthropoids possess large and sexually dimorphic canines coupled with body size differences between males and females, reflecting levels of agonistic behavior and sociosexual structure (40). The fossil record indicates that there was a reduction in canine height, leading to the loss of the honing complex in early hominins (41). Habitual bipedalism is reflected in several traits across the body (e.g., foramen magnum position and orientation; pelvic, lower-back, and lower-limb morphology), present (or inferred) in the earliest hominins (21, 33, 42).

Darwin linked the origin of bipedalism with an adaptive complex related to freeing the hands from locomotion to use and make tools (replacing large canines), leading to a reciprocal feedback loop involving brain size, cognition, culture, and, eventually, civilization (1). Multiple variants in the order of these events have been advocated, with the freeing of the hands alternatively linked to tools (43), food acquisition and carrying (15), or provisioning within a monogamous social structure (44), to name a few. There is general agreement that canine reduction (including social structure changes), enhanced manipulative capabilities, and bipedalism were interrelated during human evolution. However, determining the order of events and their causality requires reconstructing the ape-human LCA from which hominins originated. Darwin also speculated that humans and modern African ape ancestors originated in Africa (1), based on the anatomical similarities identified by Huxley and his own observations that many living mammals are closely related to extinct species of the same region. However, given the limited ape fossil record at that time, he concluded that it was useless to speculate on this subject [(1), p. 199]. Using the French Dryopithecus to calibrate his clock, Darwin concluded that humans likely diverged as early as the Eocene and warned against the error of supposing that the early progenitor of the whole Simian stock, including man, was identical with, or even closely resembled, any existing ape or monkey [(1), p. 199]. These ideas inaugurated a century of discussions about humans place in nature.

Until the 1950s, the geographic origin of hominins was disputed between Africa, Asia, and Europe. After the publication of Darwins On the Origin of Species (45), Haeckel predicted that the missing link (dubbed Pithecanthropus, the ape-man) would be found in Asia (46). This idea led to Dubois 1891 discovery of Homo erectus in Indonesia (47). In 1925, Dart published the discovery of Australopithecus africanus, the man-ape from South Africa (48). However, the scientific community still focused on Europe because of the Piltdown fossils, until they were exposed as a hoax (49). Asia remained a mother continent contender owing to the man-like ape Ramapithecus, discovered in the Indian Siwaliks (50).

During this time, the relationships of humans to other primates were highly contentious. Most authors advocated an ancient divergence of humans from apes (51, 52) or favored a closer relationship to the great apes than to the lesser apes (53, 54). A few proposed that humans were more closely related to one or both of the African apes (55, 56), although these views were not widely accepted (57). These alternative phylogenetic hypotheses heavily affected reconstructions of the LCA. Some (e.g., Schultz, Straus) advocated for a generalized ape ancestor (52), whereas others relied on extant hominoid models. Notably, Keith developed a scenario in which a hylobatian brachiating stage preceded an African ape-like creature: a knuckle-walking troglodytian phase immediately preceding bipedalism (11). Focused on Keiths hylobatian stage, Morton proposed that the vertically suspended posture of a small-bodied hylobatid-like ancestor caused the erect posture of human bipedalism (12). Gregory, another prominent brachiationist, supported similar views (53). Morton argued that knuckle walking did not represent an intermediate stage preceding bipedalism but rather a reversion toward quadrupedalism in large-bodied apes specialized for brachiation. At that time, brachiation was used for any locomotion in which the body was suspended by the hands. Now, it refers to the pendulum-like arm-swinging locomotion of hylobatids (6).

By the 1960s, the Leakeys discoveries in Tanzania [e.g., Paranthropus boisei (58), Homo habilis (59)] reinforced the relevance of Africa in human evolution, which became firmly established as the mother continent with the A. afarensis discoveries during the 1970s (60, 61). LCA models still centered on the available fossil apes (mostly represented by jaw fragments and isolated teeth) accumulated after decades of paleontological fieldwork in Africa and Eurasia. In 1965, Simons and Pilbeam (62) revised and organized available Miocene apes in three genera: Dryopithecus, Gigantopithecus, and Ramapithecus. The genus Sivapithecus was included in Dryopithecus, considered the ancestor of African apes, whereas Ramapithecus was considered ancestral to humans based on its short face (and inferred small canines) (63). Leakey (64) and others agreed with Simons and Pilbeam that humans belong to their own family (Hominidae, or hominids), whereas great apes would belong to a distinct family (Pongidae, or pongids). He also agreed that Ramapithecus was an Asian early human ancestor. However, Leakey proposed reserving the genus Sivapithecus for the Asian dryopithecines and claimed that the human lineage could be traced back to, at least, the middle Miocene of Africa with Kenyapithecus wickeri (~14 Ma).

Two major revolutions in the study of evolutionary relationships started in the 1960s. First, a series of studies jump-started the field of molecular anthropology: Blood protein comparisons by Zuckerkandl et al. (65) and Goodman (66) found that some great apesgorillas and chimpanzeeswere more closely related to humans than to orangutans. Sarich and Wilson developed an immunological molecular clock and concluded that African apes and humans share a common ancestor as recent as ~5 Ma (67). These results led to decades-long debates regarding the African apehuman split. For example, Washburn resurrected extant African apes as ancestral models in human evolution, proposing knuckle walking as the precursor of terrestrial bipedalism (68). By contrast, paleontologists argued that the molecular clock was inaccurate because of the much older age of the purported human ancestors Kenyapithecus and Ramapithecus (69). Second, Hennigian cladistics (phylogenetic systematics), which only recognizes synapomorphies (shared derived features) as informative for reconstructing phylogeny (70), became slowly implemented in anthropology by the mid-1970s (71).

In the 1970s and 1980s, the relationships among gorillas, chimpanzees, and humans were still disputed. Chromosomal comparisons (72), DNA hybridization (73), and hemoglobin sequencing (74) supported a closer relationship between chimpanzees and humans, whereas morphology-based cladistics recovered gorilla-chimpanzee as monophyletic (75). In the late 1980s, the first single-locus DNA sequencing studies (76), followed in the 1990s with multiple loci analyses, finally resolved the trichotomy (77). Current genomic evidence indicates that humans are more closely related to chimpanzees (5), having diverged at some time between ~9.3 and ~6.5 Ma (4). Ever since the molecular revolution, the perceived relevance of fossil apes in human evolution has been in jeopardy.

Extant African apes have been considered ancestral models since Keiths troglodytian stage in the 1920s (11), and especially since the 1960s, with updated hypotheses inspired by the molecular revolution (68, 78) and field discoveries on chimpanzee behavior by Goodall (79). Leakey played a central role in promoting Goodalls pioneering research (subsequently fostering Fosseys research in gorillas and Galdikass research in orangutans). Now, a prominent paradigm proposes that chimpanzees represent living fossils that closely depict the Pan-Homo LCA (14, 16). This model combines molecular data with the anachronistic view that Gorilla and Pan are morphologically similar (75). Under these assumptions, knuckle walking, once used to defend African ape monophyly (80), is used to argue that African apes are morphologically conservative and only display size-related differences (14). This model contends that gorillas are allometrically enlarged chimps and that chimpanzees [or bonobos (78)] constitute a suitable model for the Pan-Homo LCA, perhaps even the hominine or hominid LCAs (14). This narrative also incorporates the paleobiogeographic assumption that African apes likely occupy the same habitats as their ancestors: Without new selection pressures, there was no need for evolution.

If hominins originated from a chimpanzee-like LCA, human bipedalism must have evolved from knuckle walking (15), a functional compromise enabling terrestrial travel while retaining climbing adaptations (80). Under this view, bipedal hominins originated from an ancestor that was already terrestrial while traveling. These conclusions are logical from a top-down perspective, based on the evidence provided by extant hominoids and early hominins. However, a fully informed theory of hominin origins must also apply a bottom-up approach (81, 82), from the perspective of extinct apes preceding the Pan-Homo split. It is also essential to clarify whether chimpanzees represent a good ancestral model for the Pan-Homo LCA. Unfortunately, the view from the bottom is blurry.

With more than 50 hominoid genera and a broad geographic distribution (Fig. 1), the Miocene has been dubbed the real planet of the apes (83). Besides their fragmentary nature, a persistent challenge is understanding the phylogenetic relationships among fossil apes, which exhibit mosaics of primitive and derived features with no modern analogs. The Asian Miocene ape Sivapithecus best exemplifies this complexity. Discoveries during the 1970s and 1980s, including a facial skeleton (84), clarified that Ramapithecus is a junior synonym of Sivapithecus, which is likely related to orangutans (85). However, two Sivapithecus humeri show a primitive (pronograde-related) morphology, calling into question the close phylogenetic link with Pongo that had been inferred from facial similarities (86).

The root of this Sivapithecus dilemma (18) is identifying where phylogenetic signal is best captured in hominoids: the postcranium or the cranium? The former implies that a Pongo-like face evolved independently twice; the latter entails that some postcranial similarities among living apes evolved more than once. Both hypotheses highlight the phylogenetic noise that homoplasy introduces in phylogenetic inference. Indeed, several studies have found that homoplasy similarly affects both anatomical areas (87). The conclusion that Sivapithecus is not a pongine relies on the assumption that suspensory adaptations and other orthograde-related features present in living hominoids were inherited from their LCA (18). However, this is contradicted by differences among living apes [e.g., forelimb and hand anatomy, degree of limb elongation, hip abduction capability (8, 9, 19, 80, 8891)]. These studies concluded that apparent similarities could represent independently evolved biomechanical solutions to similar locomotor selection pressures. For instance, hand length similarities among living apes result from different combinations of metacarpal and/or phalangeal elongation in each extant genus (9).

Parallel evolutionhomoplasy among closely related taxa due to shared genetic and developmental pathwayscould explain some postcranial similarities related to suspensory behaviors among extant apes (80). Compared with convergences among distantly related taxa, parallelisms are more subtle and difficult to detect and they readily evolve when similar selection pressures appear. Within extant primates, suspensory adaptions evolved independently in atelines and between hylobatids and great apes (8, 80, 88, 91, 92). When the hominoid fossil record is added, independent evolution of suspensory adaptations has been inferred, too, for orangutans, chimpanzees, and some extinct lineages (9, 89, 93, 94). Knuckle walking has also been proposed to have different origins in gorillas and chimpanzees (80, 93, 95). As for suspension, the preexistence of an orthograde body plan, vertical climbing, and general arboreal heritage could have facilitated the independent evolution of knuckle walking to circumvent similar biomechanical demands during terrestrial quadrupedalism while preserving a powerful grasping hand suitable for arboreal locomotion (9).

The possibility of parallelisms indicates that ancestral nodes in the hominoid evolutionary tree, including the Pan-Homo LCA, cannot be readily inferred without incorporating fossils. In addition, fossils from known evolutionary lineages are commonly used to calibrate molecular clocks despite being subject to considerable uncertainty (4). Even worse, relatively complete fossil apes undisputedly assigned to early members of the gorilla and chimpanzee lineages remain to be found.

Sivapithecus and other fossil Asian great apes (e.g., Khoratpithecus, Ankarapithecus, Lufengpithecus) are generally considered pongines (Fig. 3) based on derived craniodental traits shared with Pongo (94, 9698), although alternative views exist, particularly for Lufengpithecus (99). By contrast, the phylogenetic positions of apes from the African early (e.g., Ekembo, Morotopithecus) and middle Miocene (Kenyapithecus, Nacholapithecus, Equatorius) remain very controversial. Like Sivapithecus, they exhibit only some modern hominoid features superimposed onto a primitive-looking pronograde (monkey-like) body plan (Fig. 2). Some authors interpret this mosaicism as indicating that most Miocene apes do not belong within the crown hominoid radiation and, thus, are irrelevant to reconstructions of the Pan-Homo LCA (14). This is likely the case for early Miocene African taxa. However, the vertebrae of Morotopithecus [~20 Ma (100) or ~17 Ma (101)] display orthogrady-related features absent from other stem hominoids, indicating either a closer relationship with crown hominoids or an independent evolution of orthogrady (102). In turn, Kenyapithecus and Nacholapithecus are commonly regarded as preceding the pongine-hominine split owing to the possession of some modern hominid craniodental synapomorphies combined with a more primitive postcranium than that of living great apes (94, 103). This raises the question: Can some Miocene apes belong to the crown hominid clade despite lacking many of the features shared by extant great apes?

The large-bodied apes from the middle-to-late Miocene of Europe are at the center of discussions about great ape and human evolution (19, 28, 94, 104, 105). Named after Dryopithecus (3), they are generally distinguished as a subfamily (Dryopithecinae) (94) or tribe (Dryopithecini) (28). However, it is unclear if they constitute a monophyletic group or a paraphyletic assemblage of stem and crown hominoids (94). Thus, we refer to them informally as dryopiths. These apes are dentally conservative, but each genus exhibits different cranial and postcranial morphology. The dryopith fossil record includes the oldest skeletons that consistently exhibit postcranial features of living hominoids (orthograde body plan and/or long and more curved digits). Dryopithecus (~12 to 11 Ma) is known from craniodental remains and isolated postcranials that are too scarce to reconstruct its overall anatomy (106). By contrast, Pierolapithecus (~12 Ma) is represented by a cranium with an associated partial skeleton (19). Cranially a great ape, its rib, clavicle, lumbar, and wrist morphologies are unambiguous evidence of an orthograde body plan. Yet, unlike chimpanzees and orangutans (but similar to gorillas), Pierolapithecus lacks specialized below-branch suspensory adaptations [see discussion in (10)]. The recently described Danuvius (~11.6 Ma, Germany), and the slightly younger (~10 to 9 Ma) Hispanopithecus (Spain) (105) and Rudapithecus (Hungary) (28) represent the oldest record of specialized below-branch suspensory adaptations (e.g., long and strongly curved phalanges; Fig. 2). Danuvius has also been argued to show adaptations to habitual bipedalism (but see below).

The different mosaic morphology exhibited by each dryopith genus is a major challenge for deciphering their phylogenetic relationships (Fig. 3). Current competing phylogenetic hypotheses consider dryopiths as stem hominoids (107, 108), stem hominids (94, 96, 109), or crown hominids closer to either pongines (105), hominines (28), or even hominins (29, 110). However, recent phylogenetic analyses of apes recovered dryopiths as stem hominids (97, 109), perhaps except Ouranopithecus (~9 to 8 Ma) and Graecopithecus (~7 Ma) (97). Ouranopithecus has been interpreted by some as a stem hominine, or even as a crown member more closely related to the gorilla or human lineages (110). Graecopithecus has also been advocated as a hominin (29), although the fragmentary available material hinders evaluation of this hypothesis. Such contrasting views about dryopiths stem from their incomplete and fragmentary fossil record coupled with pervasive homoplasy. However, because these factors are equal for all researchers, their different conclusions must also relate to analytical differences (e.g., taxonomy, sampling, polymorphic and continuous trait treatment). The root of the conflict is the remarkable differences in subjective definition and scoring of complex morphologies (e.g., incipient supraorbital torus).

One hundred fifty years after Darwin speculated that modern African ape and human ancestors originated in Africa, possible hominins have been found as far back as the latest Miocene of Africa (21, 33, 111): Sahelanthropus (~7 Ma), Orrorin (~6 Ma), and Ardipithecus kadabba (~5.8 to 5.2 Ma). However, others question the feasibility of identifying the earliest hominins among the diverse Miocene apes (96, 112). Puzzlingly, despite some claims based on scarce remains (113115), ancient representatives of the gorilla and chimpanzee lineages remain elusive. Some apes from the African late MioceneChororapithecus (26), Nakalipithecus (27), and Samburupithecus (116)have been interpreted as hominines, but the available fragmentary remains preclude a conclusive assessment. Furthermore, Samburupithecus is likely a late-occurring stem hominoid (97, 117).

During the middle Miocene (~16.5 to 14 Ma), apes are first found out of Africa. These are the genera Kenyapithecus (Turkey) and Griphopithecus (Turkey and central Europe). We informally refer to them as the kenyapiths because there is no consensus on their relationships (28, 94, 118). Kenyapiths indicate that putative stem hominids are first recorded in Eurasia and Africa before the earliest record of both European dryopiths and Asian pongines at ~12.5 Ma (94). Paleobiogeographical and paleontological data suggest that kenyapiths dispersed from Africa into Eurasia as one of the multiple catarrhine intercontinental dispersal events occurred during the Miocene (e.g., hylobatids, pliopithecoids) (83, 94). Although some competing evolutionary scenarios agree that kenyapiths gave rise to dryopiths in Europe, the phylogenetic and geographic origin of hominines remains contentious (28, 94).

If dryopiths are stem hominids, they could either be close to the crown group or constitute an evolutionary dead end, an independent experiment not directly related to either pongines or hominines. Alternatively, dryopiths might be crown hominids more closely related to one of these groups. If dryopiths are hominines, this implies that the latter could have originated in Europe and subsequently dispersed back to Africa during the late Miocene (28, 29, 83). This would coincide with vegetation structure changes caused by a trend of increased cooling and seasonality (32) that ultimately drove European apes to extinction [or back to Africa (28)]. In this scenario, hominines and pongines would be vicariant groups that originally evolved in Europe and Asia, respectively, from early kenyapith ancestors. Given the suspensory specializations of late Miocene dryopiths (Hispanopithecus and Rudapithecus), if modern African apes originated from these forms, this scenario implies that the hominine ancestor could have been more reliant on suspension than living chimpanzees or gorillas. The claim that hominines originated outside of Africa may be justified by cladistic analyses recovering dryopiths as stem hominines but may not be based on the lack of late Miocene great apes in Africa because fossils from this critical time period have been discovered (~13 to 7 Ma) (Fig. 3). Both molecular and paleontological evidence (e.g., Sivapithecus) situate the pongine-hominine divergence within the middle Miocene. Hence, the debate cannot be settled without more conclusively resolving the phylogenetic relationships of middle Miocene dryopiths.

An alternative scenario proposes a vicariant divergence for hominines and pongines from kenyapith ancestors but favors the origin of hominines in Africa (94, 119). It argues for a second vicariant event between European dryopiths and Asian pongines soon after the kenyapith dispersal into Eurasia. Cladistically, dryopiths would be pongines but would share none of the currently recognized pongine autapomorphies, evolved after the second vicariant event. This scenario is difficult to test, but it would be consistent with the apparent absence of clear pongine synapomorphies in Lufengpithecus (99) and the more derived nasoalveolar morphology of Nacholapithecus (103) compared with some dryopiths (106). However, it would imply even higher levels of homoplasy, including the independent acquisition of an orthograde body plan in Africa and Eurasia from pronograde kenyapith ancestors.

A third possibility is that none of the taxa discussed above are closely related to the African ape and human clade (107). Under this view, bona fide extinct nonhominin hominines have yet to be found in largely unexplored regions of Africa, explaining the virtual lack of a gorilla and chimpanzee fossil record. According to Pilbeam, paleoanthropologists could be like the drunk looking for his keys under the lamppost where it was light rather than where he had dropped them, working with what we had rather than asking whether or not that was adequate [(108), pp. 155156]. Africa is a huge continent, and most paleontological discoveries are concentrated in a small portion of it. The greatest challenge is finding hominoid-bearing Mio-Pliocene sites outside East and South Africa, even though we know they exist (2022). Besides insufficient sampling effort, this is hindered by numerous impediments to fieldwork in most of Africa, including geopolitical conflicts, restricted land use development, lack of suitable outcrops (due to extensive vegetation cover), and taphonomic factors [tropical forests do not favor fossil preservation (120)].

The decades-long feud regarding arboreality and bipedalism in A. afarensis exemplifies the complexity of inferring function from anatomy. Totalist functional morphologists rely on a species total morphological pattern (121) to infer its locomotor repertoire. Totalists see a bipedal early hominin with some ape-like retentions (e.g., curved fingers) pointing to continued use of the trees and consider that certain not-yet-human-like features (e.g., hip) indicate a different type of bipedalism (122). Instead, directionalistsfor whom functional inferences are only possible for derived traits evolved for a specific functionfocus exclusively on bipedal adaptations (123). Totalist and directionalist interpretations of the fossil record differ in the adaptive significance attributed to primitive features, which result in different behavioral reconstructions. Two other related factors further complicate locomotor inferences in extinct species: First, different positional behaviors have similar mechanical demands [e.g., bipedalism, quadrupedalism and some types of climbing (39)]. Second, preexisting morphofunctional complexes originally selected to fulfill a particular function (adaptations) can be subsequently co-opted for a new role (exaptations).

The mosaic nature of hominoid morphological evolution makes the functional reconstruction of fossil apes especially challenging, as recently exemplified by Danuvius (104): It was described as possessing long and curved fingers, a long and flexible vertebral column, hip and knee joints indicative of extended postures, and an ankle configuration aligning the foot perpendicular to the long axis of the tibia. Such a combination of features was functionally interpreted as indicating below-branch suspension combined with above-branch bipedalism. However, a critique to the original study concluded that the morphological affinities of Danuvius with modern great apes support a positional repertoire that includes orthogrady and suspension, but not bipedalism (124). Part of the problem with the original interpretation is that it infers a derived locomotor behaviorbipedalismfrom primitive features that are also functionally related to quadrupedalism. For instance, the inferred long-back morphology of Danuvius is characteristic of most quadrupedal monkeys and other Miocene apes (125), denoting the lack of trunk specialization seen in extant great apes. The Danuvius femoral head joint, being (primitively) posterosuperiorly expanded (126), is consistent with flexed quadrupedal hip postures that are not used during human-like bipedalism. In addition, the distal tibia configuration of Danuvius is shared with Ekembo and cercopithecoids (104), thus being likely plesiomorphic and not unique to bipeds. When the primitive and derived features of Danuvius are considered, a totalist would argue that it combined high degrees of plesiomorphic quadrupedal locomotion with novel (suspensory) behaviors, whereas a directionalist would downplay the primitive features in favor of the newly derived adaptive traits (i.e., suspension).

The late Miocene Oreopithecus (~7 Ma, Italy) is another example of conflicting phylogenetic and functional signals. Phylogenetic interpretations of Oreopithecus include cercopithecoid, stem hominoid, and hominid (even hominin) status (127). However, current phylogenetic analyses suggest that Oreopithecus could represent a late-occurring stem hominoid (97, 128), with postcranial adaptations to alternative types of orthogrady, such as forelimb-dominated behaviors (129) and terrestrial bipedalism (130). Even if not directly related to hominins (or modern hominoids), the locomotor adaptations of Oreopithecus, and other Miocene apes, are worthy of further research to understand the selection pressures that led to the (independent) emergence of modern hominoid positional behaviors.

To distinguish true locomotor adaptations from exaptations, current research efforts focus on plastic ecophenotypic traits, potentially denoting how fossil hominoids were actually moving. Bone is a living tissue, and growth is expected to occur in predictable ways that reflect loading patterns throughout life (131). Thus, cross-sectional and trabecular bone properties and their links to behavior are widely investigated (132, 133). Yet, experimental studies indicate that internal bone morphology does not necessarily match stereotypical loading patterns (134). Ample evidence suggests that irregular loading, even in low magnitude, can be more osteogenically potent than stereotypical loading (135). This may bias interpretations of individual fossils with a species-atypical loading pattern during life (e.g., because of an injury). Bone (re)modeling also does not consistently occur in response to changes in loading pattern: It can occur in ways that detract from, rather than enhance, function (136) and may manifest differentially across the skeleton (137). Incongruence also exists between actual bone performance and expectations based on aspects of internal morphology (138). Finally, there is a strong genetic component to the responsiveness of bone (re)modeling to loading (136), which is largely unknown for most species. The confidence with which internal bone structures can be used to retrodict behavior in fossil species remains a work in progress.

Competing hypotheses about the locomotor behavior immediately preceding hominin bipedalism include terrestrial knuckle walking (15), palmigrade quadrupedalism (93), and different types of arboreal (orthograde) behaviors such as climbing and suspension (7), vertical climbing (139), or arboreal bipedalism and suspension (104, 140). Miocene great apes can enlighten this question by helping to identify the polarity of evolutionary change preceding the Pan-Homo divergence (81, 82). For instance, if Pierolapithecus is interpreted as an orthograde ape without specific suspensory adaptations but retaining quadrupedal adaptations [see alternatives in (10)], then the orthograde body plan and ulnocarpal contact loss could be interpreted as an adaptation to vertical climbing, subsequently co-opted for suspension (19). Similarly, habitual bipedalism might have directly evolved from other orthograde behaviors without an intermediate stage of advanced suspension or specialized knuckle walking. Hence, Pierolapithecus complements previous hypotheses that biomechanical aspects of the lower limb during quadrupedalism and vertical climbing could be functionally preadaptive for bipedalism (39, 139).

A holistic view indicates that the Pan-Homo LCA was a Miocene ape with extant great apelike cognitive abilities, likely possessing a complex social structure and tool traditions (36, 38, 141). This ape would exhibit some degree of body size and canine sexual dimorphism (with large honing male canines) (15), indicating a polygynous sociosexual system (40). Based on Miocene apes and earliest hominins, it is also likely that the Pan-Homo LCA was orthograde and proficient at vertical climbing [see alternative interpretation based on Ardipithecus (33, 93)], but not necessarily adapted specifically for below-branch suspension or knuckle walking (9, 33). Chimpanzees seem to retain the Pan-Homo LCA plesiomorphic condition in some regards [e.g., brain and body size (38), vertebral counts (125), foot morphology (142)]. However, in others [e.g., interlimb (93), hand (9), pelvis (143) length proportions; femur morphology (89)], early hominins are more similar to generalized Miocene apes. These results further reinforce the idea that functional aspects of other locomotor types were co-opted for bipedalism during hominin origins.

The East Side Story scenario links the divergence of chimpanzees and humans to the rifting of East Africa, which would have triggered a vicariant speciation event from the ancestral Pan-Homo LCA (17). Chimpanzees would have remained frozen in time in their ancestral tropical forest environment, whereas humans would be the descendants of the group left behind on the east side of the Rift. Major climate and landscape changes would have then forced the earliest hominins to adapt to more open (grassland savanna) environments by acquiring bipedalismand the rest is history. Several decades after the proposal of this scenario, where do we stand?

The landscape of East Africa has dramatically changed during the past 10 million years because of tectonic events leading to specific climatic conditions and associated changes in vegetation structure, from mixed tropical forest to more heterogeneous and arid environments than elsewhere in tropical Africa (144, 145). The trend of progressive aridification did not culminate in the predominance of savanna environments until ~2.0 Maroughly coinciding with hominin brain size increase and the appearance of H. erectusand was punctuated by alternating episodes of extreme humidity and aridity, resulting in a fluctuating extension of forests through time (144, 145). Despite ongoing discussions about early hominin paleoenvironments (woodland with forest patches versus wooded savanna) (146), evidence from Miocene apes (30, 31) supports that the Pan-Homo LCA inhabited some kind of woodland. Therefore, it has been suggested that the Pan-Homo LCA was probably more omnivorous than chimpanzees (ripe fruit specialists) and likely fed both in trees and on the ground (33), in agreement with isotopic analyses for Ardipithecus ramidus (41).

Bipedalism would have emerged because of the selection pressures created by the progressive fragmentation of forested habitats and the need for terrestrial travel from one feeding patch to the next. Data on extant ape positional behaviors (Fig. 4) suggest that hominin terrestrial bipedalism originated as a posture rather than a means of travel on the ground (147) or in trees (140). Rose (39) proposed a long process of increasing commitment to bipedality in the transition to more complex open habitats throughout the Plio-Pleistocene, and Potts (148) argued that key stages in hominin evolution may relate to adaptive responses to cope with highly variable environments. The fossil and archaeological records provide a new twist to the order of evolutionary events in early hominin evolution. The remains of Orrorin and Ar. ramidus indicate that habitual terrestrial bipedalism, enhanced precision grasping, and loss of canine honing evolved at the dawn of the human lineage well before brain enlargement (9, 33, 89, 93). It was not until later in time [maybe starting with Australopithecus (149) and continuing with Homo], that some preexisting hand attributes were co-opted for purposive and systematic stone toolmaking in more encephalized hominins with more advanced cognitive abilities (38, 150).

Although one particular behavior can dominate the locomotor repertoire of a given species, the full positional repertoire (postural and locomotor behaviors) of living primates is diverse, complex, and not fully understood. For example, some locomotor behaviors are not totally comparable (e.g., monkey quadrupedalism versus African ape knuckle walking). Furthermore, comprehensive data are not yet available for some extant hominoids (e.g., Gorilla). Bipedalism did not appear de novo in hominins; it existed as a posture or locomotion within a broader Miocene ape positional repertoire. The combined evidence of Miocene apes and early hominins indicate that the locomotor repertoire of the Pan-Homo LCA likely included a combination of positional behaviors not represented among living primates. Over time, bipedal behaviors became the predominant activity within the repertoire of early hominins (and knuckle walking in the chimpanzee lineage). Locomotor behaviors (plus bipedal standing) in each taxon represent percentages of total positional behavior repertoire. (The full repertoire is not shown; hence, these do not add to 100%.) Data were taken from (92). Quadrupedalism includes Hunts categories quadrupedal walk and quadrupedal run, suspension includes suspensory, brachiate, clamber, and transfer. The locomotor repertoire compositions of the LCA and modern humans (Homo) are conjectural, for illustrative purposes.

That hominins continuously evolved since the Pan-Homo LCA is universally accepted, but the possibility that all living hominoids (including chimpanzees) experienced their own evolutionary histories is sometimes disregarded. Potts (151) suggested that the greater cognitive abilities of great apes originated to continue exploiting fruit supplies from densely forested environments in front of strong environmental variability. Coupled with locomotor adaptations (e.g., vertical climbing, suspension) enabling an efficient navigation through the canopy, this cognitive trap would consist of an adaptive feedback loop between diet, locomotion, cognition, and life history. Although hominids originated approximately during the Mid-Miocene Climatic Optimum (~17 to 15 Ma), their subsequent radiation from ~14 Ma onward paralleled a trend of climatic deterioration during the rest of the Miocene (152). Great apes might have initially thrived by evolving particular adaptations to more efficiently exploit their habitats, thereby occupying new adaptive peaks without abandoning the same area of the adaptive landscape broadly occupied by earlier stem hominoids. Nevertheless, this evolutionary strategy would become unsustainable once a particular paleoenvironmental threshold was surpassed. This could explain the fate of European dryopiths, which survived for some time under suboptimal conditions (despite the progressive trend of cooling and increased seasonality) until they vanished (94).

The dietary, locomotor, and cognitive specializations of late Miocene great apes would have hindered their shift into new adaptive peaks suitable for the more open environments toward the latest Miocene (153). The Miocene planet of the apes gave way to the time of the more generalist Old World monkeys, enabling their survival in a wider variety of seasonal habitats (30, 92, 154). The same specialization trap can explain the delayed retreat of pongines (and hylobatids) to southeastern Asia throughout the Plio-Pleistocene. The highly specialized orangutans remain extant, but not for long because their habitat continues to shrink. African apes could have partially overcome the specialization trap by evolving (perhaps in parallel) semiterrestrial adaptationsknuckle walking. Gorillas also expanded their dietary range (more folivorous) and enlarged their body size. Contrary to the view that gorillas are enlarged chimpanzees, morphometric analyses indicate that gorillas underwent their own evolutionary history, resulting in different ontogenetic trajectories (155, 156) and postcranial differences that cannot be explained by size-scaling effects (9, 143). Why, when, and how many times knuckle walking evolved is more difficult to explain than the origin of hominin bipedalism. Habitat fragmentation coupled with a higher reliance on arboreal feeding might be invoked (i.e., knuckle walking serves both terrestrial and arboreal locomotion). This idea is difficult to reconcile with the premise that continuous-canopy forests covered the tropical belt of central and western Africa since the Miocene, unless gorillas and chimpanzees evolved in less densely forested habitats (30, 31, 114) and retreated to tropical forests when outcompeted by hominins and/or cercopithecoids. Ironically, the same specializations that allowed great apes to survive despite major environmental challenges since the late Miocene might ultimately doom them to extinction.

Hominins might have escaped the great-ape specialization trap by evolving novel and more radical adaptations: bipedalism (another specialized orthograde locomotion), concomitant freeing of the hands, and subsequent enhanced manual dexterity, brain configuration, sociosexual behavior, and culturally mediated technology. Human evolution also reflects the progressive adaptation (biological first, cultural later) to ever-changing environments (39, 148). Some essential changes (upright posture, enhanced cognition) are just the continuation of a trend started in Miocene hominoids (19, 36, 151). While escaping from the great ape specialization trap, humans might have fallen into another evolutionary cul-de-sac, with current human activities and overpopulation leading the biosphere to a point beyond return (157). Will humans escape their own specialization trap?

Fossils uniquely inform deep-time evolutionary studies, which is essential to plan for the future (158). However, we must be aware of the many existing limitations and the gaps in our knowledge. For example, we need more fossils because we are likely missing vastly more than what we have. More fieldwork is necessary to find fossil apes close to the gorilla or chimpanzee lineages, and it is essential to extend such efforts to unexplored or undersampled areas (Fig. 1). It is also essential to continue developing tools of phylogenetic inference. Bayesian approaches are promising, but uncertainty remains about their applicability to morphological data (159). Improvements in the treatment of continuous characters and recent methodological advances for analyzing three-dimensional geometric morphometric data within a cladistic framework (in combination with traditional characters) are promising for reconstructing fossil hominoid phylogeny (160). The oldest (recently retrieved) ancient DNA is ~1 Ma (161). Paleoproteomics could be a complementary solution because it has enabled sampling further back in time up to ~2 Ma, recently confirming the pongine status of Gigantopithecus (162). Future technological advances in paleoproteomics could potentially help to answer key questions by retrieving paleoproteomes from Miocene apes.

Locomotor reconstructions of the Pan-Homo LCA and other fossil hominoids are seriously hampered by the lack of current analogs. Washburn spotted the fundamental limitation: It is not possible to bring the past into the laboratory. No one can see a walking Australopithecus [(163), p. 67]. Such inferences rely on morphofunctional assumptions of bone, joint, or muscle function, but experimentally derived biomechanical data are required to test these assumptions and provide reliable inferences from fossils. Technological advances now facilitate noninvasive kinematic data collection from animals in their natural environments (164). In turn, experimental and morphological information should be integrated to better predict the locomotion of fossil hominoids. Forward dynamic simulations offer a powerful pathway for predicting de novo movements in fossil species while iterating possible effects of morphology and soft tissue (165).

Humans are storytellers: Theories of human evolution often resemble anthropogenic narratives that borrow the structure of a heros journey to explain essential aspects such as the origins of erect posture, the freeing of the hands, or brain enlargement (166). Intriguingly, such narratives have not drastically changed since Darwin (166). We must be aware of confirmation biases and ad hoc interpretations by researchers aiming to confer their new fossil the starring role within a preexisting narrative. Evolutionary scenarios are appealing because they provide plausible explanations based on current knowledge, but unless grounded in testable hypotheses, they are no more than just-so stories (167).

Many uncertainties persist about fossil apes, and the day in which the paleobiology of extinct species can be undisputedly reconstructed is still far away. However, current disagreements regarding ape and human evolution would be much more informed if, together with early hominins and living apes, Miocene apes were also included in the equation. This approach will allow us to better discern primitive and derived traits, the common from the specific, or the unique. This is the role of fossil apes in human evolution.

C. Darwin, The Descent of Man, and Selection in Relation to Sex (Vol. I) (John Murray, 1871).

T. H. Huxley, Evidence As To Mans Place in Nature (Williams and Norgate, 1863).

M. Nakatsukasa, S. Almcija, D. R. Begun, in The Evolution of the Primate Hand: Anatomical, Developmental, Functional, and Paleontological Evidence, L. T. Kivell, P. Lemelin, G. B. Richmond, D. Schmitt, Eds. (Springer, 2016), pp. 485514.

M. Cartmill, in Functional Vertebrate Morphology, M. Hildebrand, D. Bramble, K. Liem, D. Wake, Eds. (Belknap Press, 1985), pp. 7388.

D. R. Pilbeam, D. E. Lieberman, in Chimpanzees and Human Evolution, M. N. Muller, R. W. Wrangham, D. R. Pilbeam, Eds. (The Belknap Press of Harvard Univ. Press, 2017), pp. 22141.

R. Wrangham, D. Pilbeam, in All Apes Great and Small, B. M. F. Galdikas, N. E. Briggs, L. K. Sheeran, G. L. Shapiro, J. Goodall, Eds. (Kluwer Academic/Plenum Publishers, 2001), pp. 517.

P. Andrews, An Apes View of Human Evolution (Cambridge Univ. Press, 2016).

C. Linnaeus, Systema Naturae per Regna Tria Naturae, Secundum Classes, Ordines, Genera, Species, cum Characteribus, Differentiis. Synonymis, Locis (Laurentius Salvius, Holmiae, 1758), vol. Tomus I. Editio Decima, reformata.

R. D. Martin, Primate Origins and Evolution: A Phylogenetic Reconstruction (Chapman and Hall London, 1990).

S. Almcija, C. C. Sherwood, in The Nervous Systems of Non-Human Primates, vol. 3 of Evolution of Nervous Systems, J. Kaas, Ed. (Elsevier, ed. 2, 2017), pp. 299315.

M. Rose, The process of bipedalization in hominids in Origine(s) de la bipdie chez les hominids, Y. Coppens, B. Senut, Eds. (CNRS, Paris, 1991), pp. 3748.

C. Darwin, On the Origin of Species. Or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life (John Murray, 1859).

E. Haeckel, Natrliche Schpfungsgeschichte (Georg Reimer, 1868).

G. Elliot Smith, The Evolution of Man: Essays (Oxford Univ. Press, 1924).

H. Weinert, Ursprung der Menschheit: ber den engeren Anschluss des Menschengeschlechts an die Menschenaffen (Ferdinand Enke, 1932).

W. Hennig, Phylogenetic Systematics (Univ. Illinois Press, 1966).

R. Tuttle, in Phylogeny of the Primates, W. P. Luckett, F. S. Szalay, Eds. (Springer, 1975), pp. 447480.

P. Andrews, T. Harrison, in Interpreting the Past: Essays on Human, Primate, and Mammal Evolution, D. E. Lieberman, R. J. Smith, J. Kelley, Eds. (Brill Academic, 2005).

D. R. Begun, The Real Planet of the Apes: A New Story of Human Origins (Princeton Univ. Press, 2016).

K. D. Pugh, The phylogenetic relationships of Middle-Late Miocene apes: Implications for early human evolution, thesis, The Graduate Center, City University of New York (2020).

D. R. Begun, in Phylogeny of the Neogene Hominoid Primates of Eurasia, vol. 2 of Hominoid Evolution and Climatic Change in Europe, L. de Bonis, G. D. Koufos, P. Andrews, Eds. (Cambridge Univ. Press, 2001), pp. 231253.

Read the original post:
Fossil apes and human evolution - Science Magazine