A whale of a book

BOOK REVIEWS References 1 Hassell, M.P. (1978) The Dynamics of Arthropod Predator–Prey Systems, Princeton University Press 2 Brown, J.H. (1999) Macroecology: progress and prospects. Oikos 87, 3–14 3 Lawton, J.H. (1999) Are there general laws in ecology? Oikos 84, 177–192 Useful nuggets of ecology Ecological Methods (3rd edn) by T.R.E. Southwood and P.A. Henderson Blackwell Science, 2000. £34.95 pbk (xv + 575 pages) ISBN 0 632 05477 8 Scientific Method for Ecological Research by E. David Ford Cambridge University Press, 2000. £29.95 pbk, £65.00 hbk (xix + 564 pages) ISBN 0 521 66973 1 (pbk)/ 0 521 66005 X (hbk) T he publication of the third edition of Richard Southwood’s Ecological Methods is an occasion for mutual back-slapping. Ecologists can observe that it confirms that their science is thriving and is certainly relevant to many of the world’s most urgent problems – poverty elimination, global warming and biodiversity conservation. Southwood can be justifiably proud of his prescience in writing the earlier editions (1966 and 1978) that played no small part in fostering the ecological explosion. Readers familiar with those earlier editions will appreciate that this edition has the same ‘feel’ as its predecessors – the mix of practical hands-on advice on field techniques and details of how to treat the resultant data mathematically. At the same time, there is the opportunity to chuckle at some of the artifices employed by ecologists. Separating weevil eggs from floating vegetation or X-raying wood to detect boring insects are always going to be minority sports. In this new edition, Southwood has collaborated with Peter Henderson of Pisces Conservation Ltd. Henderson’s input is evident in the more thorough treatment of, for example, fish-trapping techniques. At the same time, the subtitle of earlier editions ‘with special reference to insect populations’ has been correctly jettisoned. This revised book has far more to offer. There are new chapters on wildlife population estimates, and on large-scale spatial and temporal studies, whereas the second edition’s chapter on systems analysis and modelling has been excised. At the same time, the book is linked to a helpful website (http:// TREE vol. 15, no. 12 December 2000 www.blackwellscience.com/southwood), which, on a chapter-by-chapter basis, illustrates various items of apparatus, provides references too fresh to have reached the printed book, and lists useful suppliers of software and equipment. Southwood and Henderson cannot treat the methods of molecular ecology owing to considerations of space. The treatment of ‘traditional’ radio-tracking and of newer satellite-tracking is exceedingly brief, and one would not guess from the text how widely used passive integrated transponder (PIT) tags, that do not require an in situ power source, are already. If it becomes possible to ‘interview’ such tags from satellites, their use will escalate. Very small light-sensitive loggers, also too recent to have reached Ecological Methods, are further devices that promise to permit the detailed long-distance tracking of small migratory animals1. As the preface to this magnificent vade mecum points out, the advent of PCs since the second edition has revolutionized the capacity of the ecologist to handle data. But, and here I cannot resist a quote, ‘the researcher who relies entirely on the output of a computer is in danger of drawing false conclusions and overlooking possible insights’. If that is an exhortation to every ecologist to think and doodle a little more, and to remain aware that the back of an envelope can provide as quick a road to the truth as a flickering screen, then it is one I heartily endorse. How the ecologist does, and should, navigate the road to the truth is the subject of Ford’s book Scientific Method for Ecological Research. It is divided into four main sections: Developing an analytical framework; Making a synthesis for scientific inference; Working in the research community; and Defining a methodology for ecological research. Thus, it is a painstaking attempt to describe and then formalize the process of ecological research. Once those aspects are understood, the researcher can potentially improve the quality of his or her research. This is especially true of someone embarking on a scientific career. Such tiroes certainly form part of Ford’s intended readership. With that in mind, I conducted a minor straw poll among the graduate students in my department. ‘Crikey!’ was one, not atypical, reaction. The problem is that this is neither an elegantly written philosophical treatise ‘a la Popper’ nor an accessible recipe book that will tell the student what to do next. Alas, it would be too easy to pick out sentences distinguished only by their opacity. That said, there are useful nuggets. For example, there is a plea to appreciate that not one of the various investigation techniques available, be they experimental, modelling or field survey, is necessarily universally superior. And there is valuable discussion of how Type II errors, the incorrect acceptance of a null hypothesis, are the bane of much ecological research, where sample sizes might be unavoidably small and where there has been insufficient exploratory analysis. Section III views science as a social process and is an illuminating antidote to any naive belief that ecologists (or any other scientists) publish papers that truly reflect the process by which the result, the story reported, has emerged. Whether this problem can, or should, be remedied is debatable. It is a debate that will continue, certainly for as long as ecology lacks any general overarching theory. To his credit, Ford discusses Peters’2 radical suggestion that ecologists might be better off forgetting about explanation and instead aiming for mere statistical prediction. In summary, Ecological Methods remains the ideal starting point for anyone seeking guidance on the multiplicity of methods available for ecological sampling. Scientific Method for Ecological Research might not be the last word in how to build those methods into an intellectually coherent and innovative research programme, but it certainly highlights the complexity of the building process. M. de L. Brooke Dept of Zoology, University of Cambridge, Downing Street, Cambridge, UK CB2 3EJ ([email protected]) References 1 Weimerskirch, H. and Wilson, R.P. (2000) Oceanic respite for wandering albatrosses. Nature 406, 955–956 2 Peters, R.H. (1991) A Critique for Ecology, Cambridge University Press A whale of a book Cetacean Societies: Field Studies of Dolphins and Whales edited by J. Mann, R.C. Connor, P.L. Tyack and H. Whitehead University of Chicago Press, 2000. £22.50 pbk (436 pages) ISBN 0 226 503 410 C etacean Societies is like fresh rain falling on a parched soil. Seldom can such a gaping need have been filled so well. Marine mammals arguably offer a greater challenge for study and understanding than any other group of organisms – living away from land, mainly underwater and often travelling vast distances. Consequently, progress is only made with some combination of leading edge technical ingenuity or painstaking eons spent observing them from small boats. Ironically, the cuddly, large-brained, conservation-deserving image of whales has meant that, despite these disincentives, the number 0169-5347/00/$ – see front matter © 2000 Elsevier Science Ltd. All rights reserved. 523 BOOK REVIEWS of people wanting to conduct studies is more, not less, than usual. The result is an eclectic, iceberg-like literature, with the tip in mainstream journals but the vast body hidden in anecdotal obscurity among publications to which few libraries subscribe. This is not a field one can enter quickly – it is one that needs absorbing over years or decades. Hence, the need for good textbooks. Cetacean Societies manages to avoid the various traps into which its predecessors have too often fallen. Although wide-ranging, it does not try to cover all of cetacean biology; instead, it focuses on a large chunk, touching on many other aspects as background. With four leaders in the field as editors, and further expertise contributed from among the best in the world, Cetacean Societies avoids reliance on a single person to cope with the deceptive breadth and technicality of modern marine mammal science. The book also avoids being seduced by the temptation either to list every available ‘fact’ about every species or to allow the text to take a backseat to pretty pictures. Instead, it takes a sensibly sized section of the discipline, and explores current and future prospects authoritatively, thoroughly and lucidly. This book will surely become a classic. The format of this book is excellent, beginning with a brief historical overview that sets the scene and then moving on to consider the key technical developments that have been made. To me, the middle section forms the engine of the book; it takes an in-depth look at four of the best-studied species, drawing in information from related studies where relevant. This leads naturally on to a well balanced discussion of where the subject is currently, cetacean conservation and what the future holds. In the process, the book illustrates how successfully observational studies have combined with, in particular, genetics and acoustics to unravel hidden complexities. Throughout this book, the tone tries hard to be objective rather than controversial. In an area where strongly held and opposing views abound, this is welcome – although occasionally it leads in the direction of dryness. The overall subject, cetacean societies, is interpreted quite loosely, in the sense that information on, for example, taxonomy and distribution is presented in greater depth than is actually required. To be (extremely) picky, I could say this is overdone; although I could argue equally that this added breadth provides a useful platform for readers coming to cetacean biology afresh. An equally picky criticism would be concerning the integration of data and concepts from other systems. Cetacean studies often shy away from interpreting their findings in the light of progress in terrestrial systems, even though the evolutionary forces that shaped what we see today are common to both. Cetacean Societies goes a good way towards redressing the 524 balance, but could go further: it would be nice to reach a stage when cetacean research was no longer seen as ‘different’. In summary, this is an excellent book that will be greeted with open arms by students and teachers alike. That such a volume is so unusual and so welcome speaks reams about the quirky and rather isolationist position of marine mammal science. It is my hope, and expectation, that this book will be instrumental in reducing the divisions that currently exist. Well done to all the authors. Bill Amos Dept of Zoology, University of Cambridge, Downing Street, Cambridge, UK CB2 3EJ ([email protected]) Phallus in wonderland Promiscuity: An Evolutionary History of Sperm Competition and Sexual Conflict T.R. Birkhead Faber & Faber, 2000. £9.99 pbk (viii 11 272) ISBN 0 571 19360 9 T his is a truly excellent book. The fact that it is addressed to a nonacademic audience should not deter serious students of biology from reading it. It presents a very authoritative and up-to-date account of our knowledge and understanding of sperm competition and of other aspects of sexual competition in animals and provides a fresh a stimulating theoretical framework for this rapidly developing field. Behavioural ecology is currently in a somewhat stagnant phase, its journals full of numerous, rather similar studies, albeit of a rich diversity of animals. The loss of momentum in what has been an exciting field for many years is largely due to a concentration on functional questions; behavioural ecology has largely forgotten its roots in ethology and its emphasis on a pluralistic approach that embraces development and causation, as well as function. Tim Birkhead shows the way forward, insisting that we cannot understand sperm competition fully until we really get to grips with the mechanisms involved. Ranging widely over anatomy, physiology and genetics, as well as behaviour and evolutionary theory, Birkhead shows us what the study of animal behaviour should be like. At its best, it is not an esoteric discipline cut off from the rest of zoology; rather, it can and should provide a comprehensive approach to animals that embraces many aspects of biology and helps to knit them together. 0169-5347/00/$ – see front matter © 2000 Elsevier Science Ltd. All rights reserved. The title of the book does not really reflect what it is about; the use of a word that has particular human connotations that are not appropriate to animals is perhaps unfortunate. The core theme of the book is that the propensity of animals, of both sexes, to mate with multiple partners has profound and wide-ranging consequences that have influenced many aspects of their biology. A secondary theme is the conflict of interests that exists between the sexes that arises from the differences between male and female gametes. Birkhead develops his theoretical framework by describing, often in entertaining detail, many specific examples of animal sexual behaviour. He has a very keen eye for the bizarre and the exotic but shows great skill in using his examples to make points that are relevant to his arguments and which illustrate key concepts and theoretical principles. His writing is beautifully clear and uncluttered with jargon and reveals his enormous enthusiasm for the subject. He also avoids the temptation, all too common in popular books about animal sex, to use prurience to gain a cheap laugh; sex is quite interesting enough and does not require such devices to engage the reader. In this respect, Birkhead’s approach to his subject differs markedly from that adopted by Robin Baker in his public writings about human sexuality. His coverage of Baker’s writings is the most interesting and enthralling part of the book. In just a few, carefully crafted pages, he dismantles Baker’s thesis piece by piece, primarily by revealing the inadequacies of the data on which it is based. His characterization of Baker as ‘phallus in wonderland’ provides a phrase to cherish. In another interesting diversion from his central theme, Birkhead discusses Darwin’s writings about sexual matters and the degree to which he was probably constrained in revealing his full knowledge and understanding by the social attitudes of the Victorian age, not least among members of his own immediate family. As I read this book, I was reminded of the realization that dawned on me when I was studying the use of sperm by female newts. Sperm have their own natural history, lifecycle, physiology and behaviour and, to understand them, we really need to study them as if they were another species. We know nothing whatever about the biology of sperm in all but a very few species, a massive area of ignorance that will require a major research effort, involving input from many disciples, to redress. Fortunately, Tim Birkheads’s book provides an excellent blueprint for how biologists can set about this daunting but exciting task. Tim R. Halliday Dept of Biology, The Open University, Walton Hall, Milton Keynes, UK MK7 6AA ([email protected]) TREE vol. 15, no. 12 December 2000