Evolutionary Insights by Anthropology.net

Anthropology.net

A podcast about anthropology. www.anthropology.net

  1. 19시간 전

    When Mutations Aren’t Accidents

    For more than a century, biologists have described evolution as a two-step dance: mutations arise randomly, and natural selection decides which survive. Randomness, in this view, is the engine of genetic variation, producing an endless supply of accidents, some beneficial, many neutral, and others lethal. But new research suggests that not all mutations fit this script. A study published in Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences by an international team led from Israel and Ghana argues that some mutations appear not by accident but in patterns shaped by long-term pressures. Their findings come from the APOL1 gene, a locus with a fraught evolutionary history. Variants in APOL1 protect against Trypanosoma parasites, which cause African sleeping sickness, but they also increase the risk of kidney disease when inherited in pairs. “The new findings challenge the notion of random mutation fundamentally,” said Adi Livnat of the University of Haifa, senior author of the study. A mutation with two faces The APOL1 variant under scrutiny has long puzzled geneticists. In West and Central Africa, where Trypanosoma infections have historically been a deadly force, this mutation provides a clear survival advantage. But outside regions where the parasite is common, the same mutation seems less prevalent, as its protective benefits are irrelevant and its risks remain. If mutations arise purely at random, researchers expected the APOL1 variant to appear at similar baseline rates worldwide, only later spreading in Africa under parasite pressure. Instead, the team’s ultra-sensitive method showed that the mutation originates more frequently in African populations than in Europeans. Even more striking, the change occurs in exactly the part of the gene where it confers parasite resistance. This pattern echoes earlier findings on the HbS mutation, which guards against malaria while causing sickle-cell anemia. Both cases suggest that some mutations arise with a kind of internal logic, linked to genomic context and environmental history. Beyond randomness and Lamarck Historically, evolution has been cast between two poles: Darwinian mutation-and-selection versus Lamarck’s discredited idea that organisms directly tailor their genes to environmental needs. The new study proposes something different: that genomes themselves may have a built-in tendency to produce useful changes, honed over generations. In this view, the genome isn’t just a passive ledger of chance accidents. Instead, it’s an active system where mutations can be guided by the accumulated “experience” of past selective pressures. “At each generation, mutations arise based on the information that has accumulated in the genome up to that time point,” Livnat and colleagues write. The researchers describe this as a form of natural simplification. Over evolutionary time, genetic interactions that repeatedly prove useful can become “hardwired” into the DNA through mutational processes. This mechanism doesn’t require foresight by organisms, but it means mutations aren’t always scattershot. The case of gene fusions The team points to gene fusions as an example. Traditional thinking held that genes fuse randomly when DNA segments happen to break and rejoin. But studies show that genes which frequently work together in cellular networks are more likely to fuse—suggesting that the 3D architecture of the genome brings them together in ways that favor functional outcomes. Seen this way, mutations aren’t just noise. They can be the crystallization of long-term biological “conversations,” streamlining regulatory systems into new, inheritable units. Implications for anthropology and medicine For anthropologists, this study opens new possibilities for thinking about human evolution. If some mutations arise preferentially in response to enduring pressures, then episodes like the spread of malaria resistance in Africa or lactose tolerance in Europe may need re-examining. Did these mutations simply occur at random, or did genomic architecture make them more likely in populations where they mattered most? The medical implications are equally large. Nonrandom mutational processes could help explain why certain populations bear disproportionate burdens of genetic disease, and why some protective traits cluster geographically. A shift in evolutionary thinking While controversial, the results encourage scientists to look more closely at mutation as a process with its own rules, not merely raw material for selection. “Understood in the proper timescale, an individual mutation does not arise at random nor does it invent anything in and of itself,” Livnat argues. Instead, mutations may emerge from a long history of genomic interactions, layered generation by generation. If so, then the story of evolution is not only about chance and filtering, but also about the deep memory encoded within the genome itself. Related Research * Stern, D. L. (2010). Evolution, Development, and the Predictable Genome. Roberts and Company. https://doi.org/10.1086/656796 * Monroe, J. G., Srikant, T., Carbonell-Bejerano, P., Becker, C., Lensink, M., Exposito-Alonso, M., ... & Weigel, D. (2022). Mutation bias reflects natural selection in Arabidopsis thaliana. Nature, 602(7896), 101–105. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41586-021-04269-6 * Livnat, A. (2013). Interaction-based evolution: how natural selection and nonrandom mutation work together. Biology Direct, 8(24). https://doi.org/10.1186/1745-6150-8-24 This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.anthropology.net/subscribe

    21분

  2. 19시간 전

    How the Slavic Migrations Reshaped Europe’s Genetic and Cultural Landscape

    In the sixth century CE, Slavic groups began to appear in the written accounts of Byzantine chroniclers. Within a few generations, they spread across a vast region from the Elbe to the Volga, and from the Baltic to the Balkans. Yet for centuries, historians and archaeologists puzzled over a basic question: did the spread of Slavic culture reflect the movement of people, or simply the diffusion of language and traditions among existing populations? Two major genomic studies now bring clarity to this debate. A team led by Joscha Gretzinger and colleagues, writing in Nature, analyzed genome-wide data from 555 ancient individuals across Central and Eastern Europe. Meanwhile, another study by Ilektra Schulz and co-authors in Genome Biology focused on 18 individuals from South Moravia, a region that later became the heartland of the ninth-century Moravian principality. Together, the findings paint a detailed picture of how large-scale migration shaped Europe’s genetic and cultural landscape during the Early Middle Ages. The Scale of Movement The genetic evidence shows that beginning in the sixth century, populations carrying ancestry from eastern Europe—particularly areas around present-day Belarus and Ukraine—moved westward and southward. This was no trickle. In regions such as eastern Germany, Poland, and Croatia, more than 80 percent of the local gene pool was replaced during this period. In South Moravia, the data tell a similar story. Individuals from the fifth century carried a wide spectrum of ancestries, from Mediterranean to Scandinavian. But by the seventh century, this diversity gave way to a more homogeneous profile closely resembling modern Slavic-speaking populations. As Schulz and colleagues note, the results are “incompatible with theories of strict local continuity,” supporting instead the arrival of new populations linked to the Prague-Korchak cultural horizon. Social Worlds in Transition This genetic transformation was not accompanied by the kind of empire-building often associated with migration in antiquity. Instead, archaeogenetic and archaeological evidence suggests that early Slavic communities were built around flexible kinship networks and local alliances. In eastern Germany, new extended family groups became the backbone of society, organized around patrilineal descent. In the Balkans, by contrast, migrants mixed with local populations, producing hybrid communities where old and new traditions persisted side by side. These findings help explain why early Slavic communities left such modest archaeological signatures—small villages, handmade pottery, and cremation burials. Their strength may have lain not in imposing dominance but in adaptability. As medievalist Walter Pohl puts it, the Slavic migrations resembled, “a demic diffusion or grass-root movement, often in small groups or temporary alliances, settling new territories without imposing a fixed identity or elite structures.” Continuities and Legacies One of the most striking outcomes of these studies is the persistence of early medieval Slavic ancestry into the present day. Among the Sorbs, a Slavic-speaking minority in eastern Germany, genetic profiles remain closely aligned with the populations that settled the region over a millennium ago. In Poland, the genetic shift of the sixth and seventh centuries laid the foundation for the ancestry of modern Poles, Ukrainians, and Belarusians. At the same time, regional variation remained the norm. In Croatia, for example, Slavic-related ancestry makes up only part of the modern gene pool, reflecting a long history of intermarriage with diverse local groups. In Moravia, genetic continuity from the seventh century onward suggests that once established, Slavic communities remained relatively stable, forming the basis for later political entities such as the Moravian principality. A Different Kind of Migration Story The genomic evidence reframes the Slavic expansion not as a story of conquest, but as one of demographic transformation. Entire families moved together, women and men contributing equally to the gene pool. Rather than replacing local elites, early Slavs integrated with them in some regions, or built new communities where space was available in others. Their success lay in flexibility and resilience during a period of political fragmentation and ecological stress. As Johannes Krause of the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology observes, “The spread of the Slavs was likely the last demographic event of continental scale to permanently and fundamentally reshape both the genetic and linguistic landscape of Europe.” Related Research Other archaeogenetic work complements these findings: * Mathieson, I., et al. (2018). The genomic history of southeastern Europe. Nature, 555, 197–203. https://doi.org/10.1038/nature25778 * Veeramah, K. R., et al. (2018). Population genomic analysis of elongated skulls reveals extensive female-biased immigration in Early Medieval Bavaria. PNAS, 115(13), 3494–3499. https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1719880115 * Järve, M., et al. (2023). Genetic continuity, isolation, and local adaptation in the people of the eastern Baltic. Current Biology, 33(4), 739–751. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cub.2022.12.028 Together with the new research, these studies highlight how movements of people, not just ideas, profoundly shaped the genetic and cultural map of Europe. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.anthropology.net/subscribe

    20분

  3. 1일 전

    The Blue Shadows of Dzudzuana

    In the foothills of the Caucasus, archaeologists have recovered something unusual from Dzudzuana Cave: tiny traces of indigotin, the molecule that produces indigo blue. The residues clung to pebbles used as grinding tools 34,000 years ago. They came not from food, but from the leaves of Isatis tinctoria L.—a plant better known as woad. This is the first evidence that Upper Paleolithic groups intentionally processed a non-nutritional plant to extract compounds for purposes beyond survival. For archaeologists, it is a rare window into how Homo sapiens looked to plants not just for calories, but for color, healing, and meaning. “Rather than viewing plants solely as food resources, this study highlights their role in complex operations, likely involving the transformation of perishable materials for use in different phases of daily life,” noted archaeologist Laura Longo of Ca’ Foscari University of Venice, who led the research. A cave, some pebbles, and unexpected color Dzudzuana Cave, tucked into the Georgian Caucasus, has long yielded evidence of early modern human life. Excavations in the early 2000s recovered unknapped stone pebbles that had been used for grinding. Initially, the goal was to identify what these tools processed. Microscopic and chemical analysis revealed starch grains and wear consistent with soft plant material. Then came a surprise: blue residues concentrated in the worn zones. Advanced spectroscopy confirmed that the pigment was indigotin. The chemical forms when oxygen reacts with glycoside precursors in woad leaves during crushing. This means Paleolithic groups intentionally processed the plant, though its leaves have no nutritional value. Woad in the Paleolithic imagination The question is why. Isatis tinctoria has a deep history as both a dye and a medicinal plant. Medieval Europeans used it to produce blue textiles, while traditional remedies valued it for anti-inflammatory and antimicrobial properties. At Dzudzuana, the blue residues hint at similar possibilities. The pigments may have been used to color fibers, skins, or bodies. They may also have been part of medicinal or ritual practices, with color serving as a marker of power or protection. What matters most is the evidence of choice. These humans invested time and effort into transforming plants for purposes that reached beyond nutrition. Experiments in replication To test the idea, Longo’s team ran replicative experiments. They gathered river pebbles near the cave, cultivated woad, and crushed the leaves. The resulting residues matched the archaeological samples: faint blue fibers clinging to pores in the stone. The work showed that the Paleolithic pebbles could have trapped and preserved pigment for tens of thousands of years. “Our multi-analytical approach opens new perspectives on the technological and cultural sophistication of Upper Paleolithic populations, who skillfully exploited the inexhaustible resource of plants,” Longo explained. A glimpse of complex behavior These findings broaden the picture of Paleolithic ingenuity. Humans at Dzudzuana were not just hunters or gatherers of staples. They were chemists of the forest, experimenting with plants whose properties spoke to senses, bodies, and perhaps spirits. For anthropologists, the residues suggest a cultural world in which plants shaped identities, rituals, and aesthetics. The traces of blue are fragile, but they point to a capacity for abstract thinking, planning, and symbolic action long before agriculture or writing. Related Research * Hardy, K., Buckley, S., Collins, M. J., Estalrrich, A., Brothwell, D., Copeland, L., García-Tabernero, A., et al. (2012). Neanderthal medics? Evidence for plant-based dietary and medicinal practices. Naturwissenschaften, 99(8), 617–626. https://doi.org/10.1007/s00114-012-0942-0 * Power, R. C., Salazar-García, D. C., Rubini, M., Darlas, A., Havarti, K., Walker, M., & Henry, A. G. (2018). Dental calculus indicates widespread plant use within the stable isotope ecology of Upper Paleolithic humans. Nature Communications, 9, 5127. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41467-018-07282-0 * Cagnato, C. (2019). Plant dyes in the archaeological record: Their emergence, identification, and implications. Journal of Archaeological Method and Theory, 26(1), 219–258. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10816-018-9361-0 * Radini, A., Cummings, L. S., Buckley, S., Macchiarola, M., & Hardy, K. (2019). Human use of plants for non-nutritional purposes: Dental calculus evidence from prehistoric Europe. Antiquity, 93(367), 405–420. https://doi.org/10.15184/aqy.2019.31 This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.anthropology.net/subscribe

    15분

  4. 4일 전

    The Ghost of a Pandemic: Unearthing the Plague That Changed History

    In the mid-sixth century, a mysterious illness swept across the Byzantine Empire. Chroniclers described entire cities hollowed out by death, trade routes silenced, and the empire itself brought to its knees. The disaster became known as the Plague of Justinian, named after the emperor who ruled during its outbreak. For centuries, historians argued over what caused it. Was it the same plague that would later unleash the Black Death in Europe? Or something different entirely? Now, nearly 1,500 years later, science has an answer—one drawn from fragments of DNA hidden in the teeth of the dead. Researchers from the University of South Florida and Florida Atlantic University, working with an international team, have recovered direct genetic evidence of Yersinia pestis, the bacterium that causes plague, from a mass grave in Jerash, Jordan. The findings, published in Genes and Pathogens, confirm beyond doubt that the Plague of Justinian was indeed the first pandemic driven by the same pathogen that would return in later centuries. “For centuries, we’ve relied on written accounts of a devastating disease, but lacked hard biological evidence of plague’s presence,” said microbiologist Rays H. Y. Jiang, lead investigator of the study. “Our findings provide the missing piece of that puzzle.” A Roman Arena Turned Graveyard The story begins in the ruins of Jerash, once a thriving city of the Eastern Roman Empire. Known for its colonnaded streets and grand hippodrome, Jerash was a hub of commerce and culture. But by the sixth century, the city faced catastrophe. Written sources speak of sudden waves of mortality that struck between AD 541 and 750, reducing populations to shadows of their former selves. Beneath the floors of Jerash’s hippodrome—a venue built for spectacle and sport—archaeologists found something far grimmer: human remains stacked hastily in burial chambers, victims of a sudden and overwhelming calamity. Teeth from eight individuals, preserved in the dry soils, held the answers researchers had sought for generations. Using targeted ancient DNA methods, the team extracted genetic material from these teeth and sequenced it. The result was unmistakable: Yersinia pestis DNA, nearly identical across all samples. That genetic uniformity points to a rapid, explosive outbreak—precisely the kind described by Byzantine chroniclers. A Pandemic Before Pandemics Had a Name The Plague of Justinian erupted first in Pelusium, a port city in Egypt, before radiating outward along trade networks. It struck Constantinople in AD 542, killing thousands daily at its peak. Historians estimate that the pandemic may have claimed 30 to 50 million lives—nearly half the empire’s population—over its two-century span. Until now, direct biological proof from the empire’s heartland was missing. Traces of Y. pestis had been recovered from remote sites in Western Europe, but never from the Eastern Mediterranean, where the outbreak began. The Jerash evidence closes that gap. Pandemics on Repeat A second study by the same team places the Jerash strain in a larger evolutionary context. By comparing ancient and modern plague genomes, the researchers discovered that the pathogen behind the Justinian outbreak was not the ancestor of later pandemics, like the Black Death. Instead, plague has repeatedly spilled over from animal reservoirs into humans, triggering pandemics independently across history. This finding shatters the notion of a single lineage marching through time. Unlike COVID-19, which traces to a single spillover, plague is a recurring phenomenon—an opportunistic killer waiting in the wings. “The Jerash site offers a rare glimpse of how ancient societies responded to a public health disaster,” noted Greg O’Corry-Crowe of FAU. “A place built for celebration became a cemetery. That transformation speaks volumes about how quickly cities could be overwhelmed.” Lessons from the Past Today, plague still lingers. In July, a resident of Arizona died of pneumonic plague—the most lethal form of the disease. A week later, a case emerged in California. These incidents are rare, but they remind us that plague is not a relic of the past. It continues to evolve and persist, even as antibiotics keep it largely at bay. The Jerash discovery is more than a historical footnote. It is a cautionary tale about the interplay of ecology, trade, and human mobility—forces that shape pandemics both ancient and modern. Just as the Justinian Plague reshaped the Byzantine world, new pathogens will challenge ours. The ghosts of past pandemics still whisper: connectivity breeds vulnerability. The team’s next step takes them to Venice, where thousands of plague victims from the Black Death lie buried on Lazaretto Vecchio, a quarantine island that once stood as Europe’s first line of defense. Their bones may hold more secrets—about pathogens, about resilience, and about what it means to live in a world where pandemics are not the exception, but the rule. Related Research and Citations * Harbeck, M., Seifert, L., Hänsch, S., et al. (2013). Yersinia pestis DNA from skeletal remains indicates widespread presence in Europe during the Black Death. PNAS, 110(8), 2910–2914. https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1205750110 * Spyrou, M. A., Tukhbatova, R. I., Feldman, M., et al. (2016). Historical Yersinia pestis genomes reveal the European Black Death as the source of ancient and modern plague pandemics. Cell Host & Microbe, 19(6), 874–881. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.chom.2016.05.012 * Rasmussen, S., Allentoft, M. E., Nielsen, K., et al. (2015). Early divergent strains of Yersinia pestis in Eurasia 5,000 years ago. Cell, 163(3), 571–582. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cell.2015.10.009 This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.anthropology.net/subscribe

    16분

  5. 5일 전

    A Maya Town Between Two Worlds: Hunacti and the Cost of Defiance

    In the 16th century, as Spanish friars pushed deeper into the Yucatán, they built more than churches—they built social experiments. One of those experiments was Hunacti, a visita mission town founded in 1557 and abandoned by 1572. In its brief 15-year life, Hunacti tells a story of paradox: a place that outwardly embraced colonial order yet quietly resisted, holding fast to Maya traditions even as persecution closed in. Hunacti looked the part of a model town. Streets ran in a grid, leading to a central plaza dominated by a T-shaped church. Around it rose three grand houses, plastered and arched in Spanish fashion. Historical records suggest its leaders enjoyed rare privileges—horses, cacao orchards, and access to labor for building projects. Yet beneath that facade lay currents of defiance. “Hunacti is a paradox,” said archaeologist Marilyn Masson, who co-authored the study published in Latin American Antiquity. “It was grandly built, with cooperative leaders at first, yet it became known for ongoing resistance, even when the costs were high.” Idolatry Trials and a Town Under Siege Those costs came swiftly. By the 1560s, Hunacti had drawn the attention of Franciscan inquisitors enforcing Christianity through notorious idolatry trials. In 1562, town leader Juan Xiu was accused of human sacrifice. He and eight others died under torture. The violence didn’t end there: later leaders were publicly lashed for keeping Maya rites alive. A chilling episode in 1561—a stillborn child marked like a crucified Christ, reported by Xiu himself—may have sealed Hunacti’s fate in Franciscan eyes. Famine struck in 1572, and the town was abandoned. What the Archaeology Shows Excavations at Hunacti’s plaza, church, and elite residences offer a view beyond colonial chronicles. Beneath the polished floors, archaeologists found effigy censers—ceramic incense burners shaped like deities—tucked in corners and layered above late-period floors. They were still in use when the town’s final residents walked away. “Many of the censers were found above the last colonial floors, suggesting their use continued until the settlement’s end, despite Franciscan prohibitions,” Masson noted. Other finds reinforce this picture of autonomy: * Local over imported: Stone tools made of local chert and limestone dominate. Only one European metal artifact—a hatchet—appeared. * Sparse Spanish goods: Few imported ceramics or market items, suggesting a retreat from colonial trade. * Faunal remains: Mostly native game such as deer and peccary, with the exception of one horse—a symbol of elite status. Resistance in Plain Sight If Hunacti began as a cooperative town, it ended as something else: a community tightening its circle, resisting through household ritual and limited engagement with Spanish systems. Masson argues that this was a calculated strategy. “Success in this context isn’t just about wealth or imported goods,” she explained. “It’s about sustaining your own traditions and making your own decisions, even under intense outside pressure.” For the Maya residents of Hunacti, that autonomy came at the cost of survival as a town. But the fragments they left behind—the censers, the chipped chert blades, the hidden symbols—speak to resilience. Why It Matters Hunacti’s story complicates the old narrative of passive assimilation. Instead, it reveals a spectrum of strategies—negotiation, adaptation, and defiance—played out in kitchens, plazas, and ritual spaces. It also underscores why household archaeology matters: the smallest artifacts can rewrite colonial history. Four centuries later, Hunacti stands as a cautionary tale about power, culture, and the choices people make when forced to live between two worlds. Related Research * Restall, M. (1997). The Maya World: Yucatec Culture and Society, 1550–1850. Stanford University Press. * Hutson, S. R. (2016). The Ancient Urban Maya: Neighborhoods, Inequality, and Built Form. University Press of Florida.DOI: 10.5744/florida/9780813061817.001.0001 * Clendinnen, I. (1987). Ambivalent Conquests: Maya and Spaniard in Yucatán, 1517–1570. Cambridge University Press.DOI: 10.1017/CBO9780511812558 * Farriss, N. M. (1984). Maya Society under Colonial Rule: The Collective Enterprise of Survival. Princeton University Press. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.anthropology.net/subscribe

    14분

  6. 6일 전

    Reawakening an Ancient Gene: Can Reviving Uricase Rewrite Human Health?

    Millions of years ago, before Homo sapiens existed, our primate ancestors carried a gene that quietly protected them from a problem that plagues many people today: excess uric acid. The enzyme produced by that gene, uricase, efficiently broke down uric acid, a byproduct of metabolizing food. Then, somewhere between 20 and 29 million years ago, apes lost the ability to make it. At the time, this genetic loss might have helped early primates store energy during lean seasons. In an environment where food was scarce and unpredictable, high uric acid levels could turn sugar into fat more efficiently—a survival strategy written into DNA. But in the modern world of constant calories, the same adaptation fuels chronic conditions such as gout, hypertension, and fatty liver disease. Now, researchers are asking a radical question: what happens if humans get that gene back? Resurrecting a Forgotten Enzyme A team led by Eric Gaucher at Georgia State University set out to answer this. Using CRISPR gene-editing technology, they reintroduced an ancient version of uricase into human liver cells. “By reactivating uricase in human liver cells, we lowered uric acid and stopped the cells from turning excess fructose into triglycerides—the fats that build up in the liver,” said Gaucher. The experiment began with simple liver cell cultures and then scaled up to three-dimensional liver spheroids—tiny organ-like clusters that mimic the complexity of real tissue. In both systems, the enzyme didn’t just show up; it went to the right place inside the cell: the peroxisomes, the compartments where uricase traditionally operates in other mammals. The results were striking. Cells with the reintroduced gene showed a steep drop in uric acid levels, and fat accumulation in response to fructose exposure was dramatically reduced. Why Uric Acid Matters Beyond Gout Gout is often dismissed as a relic of overindulgence, but its underlying cause—hyperuricemia—touches far more than joints. Excess uric acid has been linked to kidney stones, cardiovascular disease, and hypertension. In fact, studies show that 90% of people newly diagnosed with high blood pressure also have elevated uric acid levels. “Hyperuricemia is a dangerous condition,” Gaucher noted. “By lowering uric acid, we could potentially prevent multiple diseases at once.” The implications go far beyond managing joint pain. If this approach works in living systems, it could become a cornerstone therapy for a cluster of modern metabolic disorders. From Ancient Survival to Modern Risk Why did apes lose uricase in the first place? The leading hypothesis, first proposed by Richard Johnson and colleagues in 2011, is that higher uric acid levels acted as an energy buffer. During times of famine, elevated uric acid helped turn fructose from fruit into stored fat, giving early primates an advantage. That adaptation might have worked in forests rich in fruit but scarce in protein. In an era of fast food and sedentary lifestyles, it has become a liability. The Path Forward: Promise and Peril Current treatments for gout include drugs that reduce uric acid and lab-made uricase enzymes derived from other animals. These work for some patients, but not all, and they can trigger immune reactions. A CRISPR-based approach could bypass those issues by restoring the enzyme inside a patient’s own liver cells. Still, challenges remain. Delivering CRISPR safely and efficiently to human tissues is no small feat. Gaucher’s team is exploring multiple strategies, from lipid nanoparticles (the same technology behind mRNA vaccines) to ex vivo approaches that edit liver cells outside the body before returning them to the patient. “Genome-editing still faces substantial safety concerns,” Gaucher cautioned. “Once those are addressed, society will be faced with contentious ethical discussions about who should and should not have access.” Animal trials come next, followed by human studies—if the therapy clears regulatory and ethical hurdles. Why This Matters for Anthropology and Evolutionary Biology This research is more than a medical breakthrough; it’s a living experiment in evolutionary reversal. It underscores the trade-offs that shape our species: traits that once secured survival can become vulnerabilities in new environments. Reviving uricase is not just about curing gout. It’s about testing what happens when an evolutionary “mistake” is corrected millions of years later. Related Research * Johnson, R. J., Andrews, P., Benner, S. A., & Oliver, W. J. (2011). The evolution of obesity: insights from the mid-Miocene. Seminars in Nephrology, 31(5), 410–419. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.semnephrol.2011.08.005 * Maesaka, J. K., & Fishbane, S. (1998). Regulation of renal urate excretion: A critical review. American Journal of Kidney Diseases, 32(6), 917–933. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0272-6386(98)70145-3 * Lanaspa, M. A., et al. (2012). Uric acid and fructose metabolism in human physiology and disease. Metabolism, 61(9), 1249–1258. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.metabol.2012.03.003 This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.anthropology.net/subscribe

    8분

  7. 8월 27일

    Two Genetic Leaps That Set Us Walking

    When our ancestors first stood upright, they didn’t just change how they moved. They rewired the very blueprint of their skeletons. Among the most radical changes was the pelvis—an anchor point for muscle, balance, and birth. For decades, anthropologists have tried to piece together how a structure built for climbing turned into the basin-shaped platform of a biped. A new study in Nature dives into that mystery with a combination of embryology, genetics, and evolutionary biology. The researchers conclude that the human pelvis didn’t simply shorten or widen through gradual tweaks. Instead, it underwent two profound shifts—changes that set the stage for walking, running, and eventually the birth of large-brained babies. The Pelvis Problem Among primates, the human pelvis is an anomaly. In chimpanzees and gorillas, the hip bones—the ilia—are tall and blade-like, perfect for anchoring climbing muscles. In humans, those same bones flare outward to the sides, forming a bowl. This bowl supports the internal organs when standing upright and provides attachment points for the muscles that stabilize the body during bipedal locomotion. “How the pelvis got that way has always been a central question,” said Terence Capellini, senior author of the study and a professor of human evolutionary biology at Harvard. A Tale in Two Moves By analyzing more than 120 embryonic specimens from humans and other primates, along with advanced imaging and molecular techniques, the team identified two key evolutionary changes. The first was a dramatic reorientation of a growth plate in the ilium. In early development, human embryos start with growth plates aligned head-to-tail—just like other primates. But by the seventh week, something unusual happens: the plate rotates 90 degrees. This rotation shifts growth outward instead of upward, making the bone short and broad rather than tall and narrow. “The histology really revealed that it actually flipped 90 degrees—making it short and wide all at the same time,” said Capellini. The second change was in timing. Bone formation in humans—ossification—starts later and spreads differently compared to other primates. Instead of hardening from the center outward, ossification in the ilium begins near the sacrum and radiates toward the edges, while the core stays soft for longer. This delay allows the pelvis to maintain its flared shape during growth. Genes Behind the Shift What drove these changes? The researchers identified over 300 genes involved, but three stood out: SOX9 and PTH1R, which control the growth plate rotation, and RUNX2, which affects ossification timing. Mutations in these genes in modern humans cause disorders that dramatically alter hip shape, underscoring their importance in pelvic development. “These genetic pathways were repurposed during evolution to remodel the pelvis,” said Gayani Senevirathne, the study’s lead author. When Did It Happen? The first change—the growth plate rotation—likely occurred soon after our lineage split from the African apes 5 to 8 million years ago. The delay in ossification may have come later, during the rise of large-brained hominins in the last 2 million years. These adaptations helped resolve the so-called “obstetrical dilemma,” balancing the needs of efficient bipedalism with the birth of big-headed babies. The fossil record reflects this slow transformation. The 4.4-million-year-old Ardipithecus ramidus pelvis already shows signs of a bipedal blueprint. By 3.2 million years ago, Australopithecus afarensis—better known as Lucy—had fully flared ilia for upright walking. “All fossil hominins from that point on were growing the pelvis differently from any other primate,” Capellini noted. Why It Matters This study doesn’t just explain a piece of anatomy. It highlights how radical shifts in developmental biology can fuel evolutionary innovation—turning climbing apes into long-distance walkers. It also reframes how anthropologists interpret pelvic fossils: not just as remnants of form, but as clues to processes hidden in the earliest stages of life. Related Research & Citations * Lovejoy, C. O. (2009). Reexamining human origins in light of Ardipithecus ramidus. Science, 326(5949), 74–74e8. https://doi.org/10.1126/science.1175834 * Rosenberg, K., & Trevathan, W. (2002). Birth, obstetrics and human evolution. BJOG: An International Journal of Obstetrics & Gynaecology, 109(10), 1199–1206. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1471-0528.2002.01351.x * Simpson, S. W., Quade, J., Levin, N. E., Butler, R., Dupont-Nivet, G., Everett, M., & Semaw, S. (2008). A female Homo erectus pelvis from Gona, Ethiopia. Science, 322(5904), 1089–1092. https://doi.org/10.1126/science.1163592 This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.anthropology.net/subscribe

    12분

  8. 8월 27일

    An Ancient Arrow and a Fatal Infection: Violence at the End of the Ice Age in Southeast Asia

    When the hunter from Thung Binh Cave died some 12,000 years ago, the world around him was in transition. The glaciers of the Pleistocene were receding. Forests and rivers spread through what is now northern Vietnam. Life may have been changing, but it was still dangerous—sometimes because of other humans. Excavated in 2018 from a limestone cave in the foothills of the Annamite Range, the skeleton—labeled TBH1—is one of the most complete human remains from Southeast Asia’s Terminal Pleistocene. At roughly 35 years of age, he had survived a harsh environment that claimed many long before middle age. Yet a closer look at his bones tells a more violent story. A Rib Out of Place One detail stood out immediately: TBH1 had an extra rib—a rare trait seen in less than 1% of modern populations. It might have gone unnoticed, except for the damage it carried. Near the man’s neck, the rib was fractured and bore the unmistakable signature of infection: a cloaca, an opening where pus drained from the bone. Next to it lay a sliver of stone. Under the microscope, the flake revealed itself as a fragment of quartz, sharp-edged and triangular—likely from the tip of a projectile. “The trauma and subsequent infection are the likely cause of death and, to our knowledge, the earliest indication of interpersonal conflict from mainland Southeast Asia,” wrote Christopher M. Stimpson and colleagues in their report. The rib fracture had not killed him outright. Evidence of healing—a false joint, or pseudoarthrosis, formed where the pieces never fused—suggests he lingered for months. But the infection, untreated and unchecked, was almost certainly fatal. The Arrow in the Cave What the researchers cannot say is why this man was struck. Was it a raid? A personal quarrel? A skirmish over hunting grounds? There are no other skeletons in the cave to tell the rest of the story. What is clear is that the weapon was primitive but lethal: a simple quartz flake hafted to a shaft, launched with a bow or spear-thrower. This discovery pushes back the earliest evidence of interpersonal violence in mainland Southeast Asia by thousands of years. Violence and the End of the Ice Age The Terminal Pleistocene was an era of profound ecological and cultural change. Sea levels were rising. Game distributions were shifting. Foraging bands across Southeast Asia were experimenting with new food strategies, domesticating dogs, and altering mobility patterns. Scarcity—or the perception of it—could have sharpened tensions between groups. Well-preserved skeletons from this period are exceedingly rare. TBH1’s survival, and his death, now open a window into the social world of late Ice Age Southeast Asia. But a single case cannot answer whether violence was an anomaly or an undercurrent of daily life. More discoveries will tell. For now, his bones speak of resilience and fragility: a man who endured injury, lived with pain, and ultimately succumbed not to the arrow itself, but to the infection it carried. Related Research * Domínguez-Rodrigo, M. et al. (2021). Earliest evidence of interpersonal violence in the Pleistocene. Nature Human Behaviour, 5(9), 1187–1193. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41562-021-01140-4 * Larsen, C. S. (2014). Bioarchaeology: Interpreting Behavior from the Human Skeleton. Cambridge University Press. * Tung, T. A. (2012). Violence, Ritual, and the Wari Empire: A Social Bioarchaeology of Imperialism in the Andes. University Press of Florida. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit www.anthropology.net/subscribe

    10분
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