Encounters

Evolution of a field biologist

Preface

This ‘publication’ is a collection of written sketches that describe an encounter or experience that was important to me, taught me a lesson, or abruptly launched me towards a new research direction – what I think of as “pinball” events. Even so, this is not an autobiography per se, as I exclude most of my personal life and even much of my academic life. Thus, it is more of a selective memoir about a career in academic biology.

The events I do include often were fun experiences shared with great colleagues and serve as a counterpoint to the general expectation that science is dry. That may often be true, but not always.

I’ve filed the sketches into sections that focus on specific periods of my life and career, but some topics bridge periods. Most chapters are intentionally short and can usually be read in any order.

Why have I written these sketches? For one thing, I’ve enjoyed reading autobiographies and memoirs by biological friends (Eric Pianka, Peter Grant, Rosemary Grant, Harry Greene, Bayard Brattstrom, Fabián Jaksic, Jim Kenagy, Harvey Lillywhite, Rick Shine, and Bob Trivers). For another, writing a memoir seems to be a rite of passage for emeritus biologists.

Also, I’m a hiker and backpacker; and hikers often fill the long trail miles by telling stories from their pasts. Because I have lived longer than most of my trail mates, I have accumulated more than my share of stories. Some fellow hikers – and even some non-hiker friends – have encouraged me to share these stories in print. “Be careful what you ask for.” Even so, I will take responsibility – mea culpa.

Memoirs may help writers understand their past, but they should accomplish more. Memoirs should be a time not only to reflect, but also to regroup and plan for the future. I don’t want to repeat my past but I do want to continue to evolve. Understanding how I got here may help me redirect my future. I hope that isn’t self-deception on my part.

I confess to having enjoyed writing these sketches. The entire process required me to think back over the decades, selecting some events but skipping others, and then writing about them. This has been challenging but fun and enlightening. The fun comes from remembering rich events that were usually shared with – or inspired by – good friends and colleagues.

Writing is also enlightening because it helps me understand how I evolved and who and what were key influences along the way. For reasons I do not understand, I not infrequently find myself reflecting on experiences I’m having (or had) and thinking about their meaning to me. Forcing myself to look back helps me appreciate those life lessons.

The process of writing is nonetheless challenging, mainly because the writing style appropriate for a sketch is unfamiliar to one experienced only in writing scientific papers. More importantly, there’s a fine line between writing sketches that might be of general interest versus those that merely expressions of bloated self-esteem. My goal is to stay to the ‘left’ of that line, but I appreciate that we can be our own worst judge of what other people find interesting.

Memoirs are accounts pretending to be histories. Sometimes they are accurate, sometimes not. Memories can warp and mutate over time. They can be inadvertently biased by our individual histories and experiences. Moreover, the very human desire to ‘look’ good’ may cause us to ‘adjust’ actual events and interpretations.

Valid data is the fundamental ethic and requirement of science. How can I self-check the accuracy of sketches that follow? Because I never maintained a journal or diary, I’ve had to fact check with people who shared an experience with me. Unfortunately, some died before I started writing. Sometimes, the people involved are alive but have no memory of the event. Fortunately, some people do remember and can check my memories. If we don’t reach a consensus, I’ll be up front that this is my interpretation. The fact that people often have very different memories of an event is disturbing to a memoir writer. I take this uncertainty as a basic fact of life and hope the sketches still make an interesting and informative story even if they warp what actually happened.

Most of the sketches are rooted in my life as a biologist, but the specter of the Vietnam War was a persistent cloud over my college years. For many young men during that era (1964-1973), the draft was a constant and major preoccupation. I describe my own actions in several sketches. To have swept these under the rug would have resulted in incomplete and misleading accounts of my choices and actions at a formative stage of my life.

I’m distributing this collection as an open-access book so that access is free – well, free at least as long as the associated website exists. [Joe Felsenstein, a pioneer of open-source software, is my role model here.] Also, online distribution enables a search bar for finding specific subjects, provides links to websites with provide background explanations, and has cross references that link chapters together. Moreover, readers for whom English is not their main language can readily translate the text to their own language.

For me, publishing online is advantageous. I am not constrained by the number of sketches or photos I include. I can subsequently add, delete, correct, or edit any part. Thus, this collection can continue to evolve, at least as long as I am capable of and interested in being involved.

The downsides are that I won’t be able to hold a physical book in my hand or perhaps to enjoy royalties. I’ll survive. And the book itself will undoubtedly suffer from missing the polish added by a professional editor.

Acknowledgments

Many people contributed to this book by contributing to my life. Foremost is my life partner and spouse, Carolyn Cavalier. She has been my soul mate, sounding board, and patient mentor for five decades.

I had many academic mentors in college and grad school, but I owe a special debt to the late Eric Pianka, who entrusted me to start up and run the Kalahari lizard project (see Part Four), even though I was still wet behind the ears. We soon became close friends and collaborators. We worked together for more than half a century before he died in 2022. Larry Coons and I shared the first six months of field work in the Kalahari. I would work with him anywhere. Overall, my Kalahari trip was a formative biological and maturational experience for me.

In grad school, Billy Martin (University of Texas) was a remarkable artist, biologist, collaborator, and friend. Tragically, he lost his way. George Gorman helped me co-author my first paper, encouraged me to transfer to Harvard, and much later became a collaborator and friend. At Harvard, Ross Kiester, Paul Hertz, Bob Trivers, and Tom Schoener were (and still are) key influences. Some of my best and favorite papers were later co-authored with Paul. Random encounters with Paul – sometimes just sitting and talking on a porch or even in a laundromat – often inspired novel projects. In many ways, Ross (we were undergrads and grads together, at least part of the time) was my de facto major professor - talking with him is always inspiring and enlightening. Monty Slatkin (then a postdoc at Chicago) helped me develop a cost-benefit model of thermoregulation and became a long-term friend.

I highlight interactions with Mike Angilletta, Steve Arnold, Joan Balanyá, Al Bennett (in many ways my intellectual twin), Lauren Buckley, Susana Clusella-Trullas, Tom Daniel, the late Jean David, Curtis Deutsch, Art Dunham, the late Xavier Eguskitza, Martin Feder, Joe Felsenstein, Cameron Ghalambor, the late Carl Gans, George Gorman, Harry Greene, the late Dr. Tom Hornbein, Lynne Houck, the late Dr. Charles Houston, Nora Ibargüengoytía, Henry John-Alder, Mike Kaspari, Joel Kingsolver, Michael Kearney, Jane Lubchenco, Polley McClure, Don Miles, Ken Nagy, Linda Partridge, Ted Papenfuss, Marta Pascual, Warren Porter, Rick Shine, Dick Sage, Richard Salisbury, Mike Sears, Monty Slatkin, Josh Tewksbury, the late David Wake, Marvalee Wake, Peter Ward, Ken Weber, Martin Wikelski, and Barbara Wu. All are creative and inspiring companions.

Many students, postdocs, and sabbatical visitors have tried to keep me fresh (Rob Stevenson, Rickie van Berkum, Joyce Tsuji, Wayne Crill, Steve Adolph, the late Barry Sinervo, Melanie Frazier, Jon Herron, Richard Tracy, Ted Garland, Jr., Don ‘Naja’ Miles, Michael Dillon, Tara Martin, George Wang, Patricia Gibert, Joan Balanyá, David Berrigan, the late George Gilchrist, Luisa Otero, Kelly Zamudio, and Liang Ma).

Several people have been important ‘mentors-at-a-distance’ (Jim Brown, Peter Grant, Rosemary Grant, the late Jim Heath, the late Peter Hochachka, Ary Hoffmann, Jonathan Losos, Michael Rose, Mike Ryan, Dolph Schluter, and George Somero). They may not realize their positive impacts on me.

I gratefully acknowledge decades of continuous support from the National Science Foundation (1978-2014). I received additional support from National Geographic Society (twice), Burroughs-Wellcome Fund, Miller Institute for Basic Research in Science (UC Berkeley), Richmond Fund (Harvard), and Museum of Vertebrate Zoology (UC Berkeley).

I would be remiss not to thank my hiking/backpacking friends who have somehow slowed my rate of aging. Arnie Bendich got me hiking again and introduced me to A+ trails on Mt Rainier. I acknowledge The Mountaineers, but especially Cheryl Talbert – perhaps the most giving and organized person I’ve ever met. I’ve shared many a mile with Cheryl, Cleo Bloomquist, Marti Bosma, Rob Erickson, Shuko Hashimoto, Donna Hahn, Dave Hawkins, Sarah Hess, Joe Rodriguez, Cheryl Sack, and Shyam Vijayaraghavan. May we continue to share trails and adventures.

Coda

Later in this book I’ll say more about my academic heroes. Newton wrote: “If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants.” I would add the importance of just rubbing shoulders with people who are smart, excited, and finish projects. Their attitudes, drive, and accomplishments are contagious: intellectual osmosis works. I have been fortunate to have collaborated with colleagues and friends who share a compulsive delight in learning about life on our Earth. They bring biology to life as well as bring life to biology.

License

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