From mutation to speciation: the genetics of species formation

The genetics of speciation

Given the strong influence of genetic identity on the process and outcomes of the speciation process, it seems a natural connection to use genetic information to study speciation and species identities. There is a plethora of genetics-based tools we can use to investigate how speciation occurs (both the evolutionary processes and the external influences that drive it). One clear way to test whether two populations of a particular species are actually two different species is to investigate genes related to reproductive isolation: if the genetic differences demonstrate reproductive incompatibilities across the two populations, then there is strong evidence that they are separate species (at least under the Biological Species Concept; see Part One for why!). But this type of analysis requires several tools: 1) knowledge of the specific genes related to reproduction (e.g. formation of sperm and eggs, genital morphology, etc.), 2) the complete and annotated genome of the species (to be able to find and analyse the right genes properly) and 3) a good amount of data for the populations in question. As you can imagine, for people working on non-model species (i.e. ones that haven’t had the same history and detail of research as, say, humans and mice), this can be problematic. So, instead, we can use other genetic information to investigate and suggest patterns and processes related to the formation of new species.

Is reproductive isolation naturally selected for or just a consequence?

A fundamental aspect of studies of speciation is a “chicken or the egg”-type paradigm: does natural selection directly select for rapid reproductive isolation, preventing interbreeding; or as a secondary consequence of general adaptive differences, over a long history of evolution? This might be a confusing distinction, so we’ll dive into it a little more.

Of the two proposed models of speciation, the by-product of natural selection (the second model) has been the more favoured. Simply put, this expands on Darwin’s theory of evolution that describes two populations of a single species evolving independently of one another. As these become more and more different, both in physical (‘phenotype’) and genetic (‘genotype’) characteristics, there comes a turning point where they are so different that an individual from one population could not reasonably breed with an individual from the other to form a fertile offspring. This could be due to genetic incompatibilities (such as different chromosome numbers), physiological differences (such as changes in genital morphology), or behavioural conflicts (such as solitary vs. group living).

Certainly, this process makes sense, although it is debatable how fast reproductive isolation would occur in a given species (or whether it is predictable just based on the level of differentiation between two populations). Another model suggests that reproductive isolation actually might arise very quickly if natural selection favours maintaining particular combinations of traits together. This can happen if hybrids between two populations are not particularly well adapted (fit), causing natural selection to favour populations to breed within each group rather than across groups (leading to reproductive isolation). Typically, this is referred to as ‘reinforcement’ and predominantly involves isolating mechanisms that prevent individuals across populations from breeding in the first place (since this would be wasted energy and resources producing unfit offspring). The main difference between these two models is the sequence of events: do populations ecologically diverge, and because of that then become reproductively isolated, or do populations selectively breed (enforcing reproductive isolation) and thus then evolve independently?

Reinforcement figure.jpg
An example of reinforcement leading to speciation. A) We start with two populations of a single species (a red fish population and a green fish population), which can interbreed (the arrows). B) Because these two groups can breed, hybrids of the two populations can be formed. However, due to the poor combination of red and green fish genes within a hybrid, they are not overly fit (the red cross). C) Since natural selection doesn’t favour forming hybrids, populations then adapt to selectively breed only with similar fish, reducing the amount of interbreeding that occurs. D) With the two populations effectively isolated from one another, different adaptations specific to each population (spines in red fish, purple stripes in green fish) can evolve, causing them to further differentiate. E) At some point in the differentiation process, hybrids move from being just selectively unfit (as in B)) to entirely impossible, thus making the two populations formal species. In this example, evolution has directly selected against hybrids first, thus then allowing ecological differences to occur (as opposed to the other way around).

Reproductive isolation through DMIs

The reproductive incompatibility of two populations (thus making them species) is often intrinsically linked to the genetic make-up of those two species. Some conflicts in the genetics of Population 1 and Population 2 may mean that a hybrid having half Population 1 genes and half Population 2 genes will have serious fitness problems (such as sterility or developmental problems). Dramatic genetic differences, particularly a difference in the number of chromosomes between the two sources, is a significant component of reproductive isolation and is usually to blame for sterile hybrids such as ligers, zorse and mules.

However, subtler genetic differences can also have a strong effect: for example, the unique combination of Population 1 and Population 2 genes within a hybrid might interact with one another negatively and cause serious detrimental effects. These are referred to as “Dobzhansky-Müller Incompatibilities” (DMIs) and are expected to accumulate as the two populations become more genetically differentiated from one another. This can be a little complicated to imagine (and is based upon mathematical models), but the basis of the concept is that some combinations of gene variants have never, over evolutionary history, been tested together as the two populations diverge. Hybridisation of these two populations suddenly makes brand new combinations of genes, some of which may be have profound physiological impacts (including on reproduction).

DMI figure
An example of how Dobzhansky-Müller Incompatibilities arise, adapted from Coyne & Orr (2004). We start with an initial population (center top), which splits into two separate populations. In this example, we’ll look at how 5 genes (each letter = one gene) change over time in the separate populations, with the original allele of the gene (lowercase) occasionally mutating into a new allele (upper case). These mutations happen at random times and in random genes in each population (the red letters), such that the two become very different over time. After a while, these two populations might form hybrids; however, given the number of changes in each population, this hybrid might have some combinations of alleles that are ‘untested’ in their evolutionary history (see below). These untested combinations may cause the hybrid to be infertile or unviable, making the two populations isolated species.

DMI table
The list of ‘untested’ genetic combinations from the above example. This table shows the different combinations of each gene that could be made in a hybrid if these two populations interbred. The red cells indicate combinations that have never been ‘tested’ together; that is, at no point in the evolutionary history of these two populations were those two particular alleles together in the same individual. Green cells indicate ones that were together at some point, and thus are expected to be viable combinations (since the resultant populations are obviously alive and breeding).

How can we look at speciation in action?

We can study the process of speciation in the natural world without focussing on the ‘reproductive isolation’ element of species identity as well. For many species, we are unlikely to have the detail (such as an annotated genome and known functions of genes related to reproduction) required to study speciation at this level in any case. Instead, we might choose to focus on the different factors that are currently influencing the process of speciation, such as how the environmental, demographic or adaptive contexts of populations plays a role in the formation of new species. Many of these questions fall within the domain of phylogeography; particularly, how the historical environment has shaped the diversity of populations and species today.

Phylogeo of speciation
An example of the interplay between speciation and phylogeography, taken from Reyes-Velasco et al. (2018). They investigated the phylogeographic history of several different groups of species within the frog genus Ptychadena; in this figure, we can see how the different species (indicated by the colours and tree on the left) relate to the geography of their habitat (right).

A variety of different analytical techniques can be used to build a picture of the speciation process for closely related or incipient species. A good starting point for any speciation study is to look at how the different study populations are adapting; is there evidence that natural selection is pushing these populations towards different genotypes or ecological niches? If so, then this might be a precursor for speciation, and we can build on this inference with other complementary analyses.

For example, estimating divergence times between populations can help us suggest whether there has been sufficient time for speciation to occur (although this isn’t always clear cut). Additionally, we could estimate the levels of genetic hybridisation (‘introgression’) between two populations to suggest whether they are reasonably isolated and divergent enough to be considered functional species.

The future of speciation genomics

Although these can help answer some questions related to speciation, new tools are constantly needed to provide a clearer picture of the process. Understanding how and why new species are formed is a critical aspect of understanding the world’s biodiversity. How can we predict if a population will speciate at some point? What environmental factors are most important for driving the formation of new species? How stable are species identities, really? These questions (and many more) remain elusive for a wide variety of life on Earth.

 

The history of histories: philosophy in biogeography

Biogeography of the globe

The distribution of organisms across the Earth, both over time and across space, is a fundamental aspect of the field of biogeography. But our understanding of the mechanisms by which organisms are distributed across the globe, and how this affects their evolution, can be at times highly enigmatic. Why are Australia and the Americas the only two places that have marsupials? How did lemurs get all the way to Madagascar, and why are they the only primate that has made the trip? How did Darwin’s famous finches get over to the Galápagos, and why are there so many species of them there now?

All of these questions can be addressed with a combination of genetic, environmental and ecological information across a variety of timescales. However, the overall field of biogeography (and phylogeography as a derivative of it) has traditionally been largely rooted on a strong yet changing theoretical basis. The earliest discussions and discoveries related to biogeography as a field of science date back to the 18th Century, and to Carl Linnaeus (to whom we owe our binomial classification system) and Alexander von Humboldt. These scientists (and undoubtedly many others of that era) were among the first to notice how organisms in similar climates (e.g. Australia, South Africa and South America) showed similar physical characteristics despite being so distantly separated (both in their groups and geographic distance). The communities of these regions also appeared to be highly similar. So how could this be possible over such huge distances?

Arctic and fennec final
A pretty unreasonable mechanism (and example) of dispersal in foxes. And yes, all tourists wear sunglasses and Hawaiian shirts, even arctic fox ones.

 

Dispersal or vicariance?

Two main explanations for these patterns are possible; dispersal and vicariance. As one might expect, dispersal denotes that an ancestral species was distributed in one of these places (referred to as the ‘centre of origin’) before it migrated and inhabited the other places. Contrastingly, vicariance suggests that the ancestral species was distributed everywhere originally, covering all contemporary ranges within it. However, changes in geography, climate or the formation of other barriers caused the range of the ancestor to fragment, with each fragmented group evolving into its own distinct species (or group of species).

Dispersal vs vicariance islands
An example of dispersal vs. vicariance patterns of biogeography in an island bird (pale blue). In the top example, the sequential separation of parts of the island also cause parts of the distribution of the original bird species to become fragmented. These fragments each evolve independently of their ancestor and form new species (red, and then blue). In the bottom example, the island geography doesn’t change but in rare events a bird disperses from the main island onto a new island. The new selective pressures of that island cause the dispersed birds to evolve into new species (red and blue). In both examples, islands that were recently connected or are easy to disperse across do not generate new species (in the sandy island in the bottom right). You’ll notice that both processes result in the same biogeographic distribution of species.

In initial biogeographic science, dispersal was the most heavily favoured explanation. At the time, there was no clear mechanism by which organisms could be present all over the globe without some form of dispersal: it was generally believed that the world was a static, unmoving system. Dispersal was well supported by some biological evidence such as the diversification of Darwin’s finches across the Galápagos archipelago. Thus, this concept was supported through the proposals of a number of prominent scientists such as Charles Darwin and A.R. Wallace. For others, however, the distance required for dispersal (such as across entire oceans) seemed implausible and biologically unrealistic.

 

A paradigm shift in biogeography

Two particular developments in theory are credited with a paradigm shift in the field; cladistics and plate tectonics. Cladistics simply involved using shared biological characteristics to reconstruct the evolutionary relationships of species (think like phylogenetics, but using physical traits instead of genetic sequence). Just as importantly, however, was plate tectonic theory, which provided a clear way for organisms to spread across the planet. By understanding that, deep in the past, all continents had been directly connected to one another provides a convenient explanation for how species groups spread. Instead of requiring for species to travel across entire oceans, continental drift meant that one widespread and ancient ancestor on the historic supercontinent (Pangaea; or subsequently Gondwana and Laurasia) could become fragmented. It only required that groups were very old, but not necessarily very dispersive.

Lemur dispersal
Surf’s up, dudes! Although continental drift was no doubt an important factor in the distribution and dispersal of many organisms on Earth, it actually probably wasn’t the reason lemurs got to Madagascar. Sorry for the mislead.

From these advances in theory, cladistic vicariance biogeography was born. The field rapidly overtook dispersal as the most likely explanation for biogeographic patterns across the globe by not only providing a clear mechanism to explain these but also an analytical framework to test questions relating to these patterns. Further developments into the analytical backbone of cladistic vicariance allowed for more nuanced questions of biogeography to be asked, although still fundamentally ignored the role of potential dispersals in explaining species’ distributions.

Modern philosophy of biogeography

So, what is the current state of the field? Well, the more we research biogeographic patterns with better data (such as with genomics) the more we realise just how complicated the history of life on Earth can be. Complex modelling (such as Bayesian methods) allow us to more explicitly test the impact of Earth history events on our study species, and can provide more detailed overview of the evolutionary history of the species (such as by directly estimating times of divergence, amount of dispersal, extent of range shifts).

From a theoretical perspective, the consistency of patterns of groups is always in question and exactly what determines what species occurs where is still somewhat debatable. However, the greater number of types of data we can now include (such as geological, paleontological, climatic, hydrological, genetic…the list goes on!) allows us to paint a better picture of life on Earth. By combining information about what we know happened on Earth, with what we know has happened to species, we can start to make links between Earth history and species history to better understand how (or if) these events have shaped evolution.

Surviving the Real-World Apocalypse

The changing world

Climate change seems to be the centrefold of a large amount of scientific research and media attention, and rightly so: it has the capacity to affect every living organism on the planet. It’s our duty as curators and residents of Earth to be responsible for our influences on the global environmental stage. While a significant part of this involves determining causes and solutions to our contributions to climate change, we also need to know how extensive the effects will be: for example, how can we predict how well species will do in the future?

Predicting the effect of climate change on all of the world’s biodiversity is an immense task. Climate change itself is a complicated system, and causes diverse, interconnected and complex alterations to both global and local climate. Adding on top of this, though, is that climate affects different species in different ways; where some species might be sensitive to some climatic variables (such as rainfall, available sunlight, seasonality), others may be more tolerant to the same factors. But all living things share some requirements, so surely there must be some consistency in their responses to climate change, right?

Apocalypse 2
Lucky for Mr Fish here, he’s responding to a (very dramatic) climate change much, much better than his bird counterpart.

How predictable are species responses to climate change?

Well, evidence would surprisingly suggest not. Many species, even closely related ones, can show very different responses to the exact same climatic pressures or biogeographical events. There are a number of different traits that might affect a species’ ability to adapt, particularly their adaptive genetic diversity (which underpins ‘adaptive potential’). Thus, we need good information of a variety of genetic, physiological and life history traits to be able to make predictions about how likely a species is to adapt and respond to future (and current) climate changes.

Although this can be hard to study in species of high extinction risk (getting a good number of samples is always an issue…), traditional phylogeographic methods might help us to make some comparisons. See, although the modern Earth is rapidly changing (undoubtedly influenced by human society), the climate of the globe has always varied to some degree. There has always been some tumultuousness in the climate and specific Earth history events like volcano eruptions, sea-level changes, or glaciation periods (‘ice ages’) have had diverse effects on organisms globally.

Using comparative phylogeography to predict species responses

One tool for looking at how different species have, in the past, responded to the same biogeographical force is the domain of ‘comparative phylogeography’. Phylogeography itself is something we have discussed before: the ‘comparative’ aspect simply means comparing (with complex statistical methods) these patterns across different and often unrelated species to see how universal (‘congruent’) or unique (‘incongruent’) these patterns are among species. The more broadly we look at the species community in the region, the more we can observe widespread effects of any given environmental or geographical event: if we only look at fish, for example, we might not to be able to infer what response mammals, birds or invertebrates have had to our given event. Sometimes this still meets the scale we wish to focus; other times, we want to see how all the species of an area have been affected.

Actual island diagram
An (very busy) example of different species responses to a single environmental event. In this example, we have three species (a fish, a lizard, and a bird) all living on the same island. In the middle of the island, there is a small mountain range (A). At this point in time, all three species are connected across the whole island; fish can travel via lakes and wetlands (green arrows), lizards can travel across the land (blue arrow) and birds can fly anywhere. However, as the mountain range grows with tectonic movements, the waterways are altered and the north and south are disconnected (B). The fish species is now split into two evolutionarily separate groups (green and gold), while lizards and birds are not. As the range expands further, however, the dispersal route for lizards is cut off, causing them to eventually also become separated into blue and black groups (C). Birds, however, have no problems flying over the mountain range and remain one unified and connected orange group over time (D). Thus, each species has a different response to the formation of the mountain range.
Evol history of island diagram
The phylogenetic history of the three different species in the above example. As you can see, each lineage has a slightly different pattern; birds show no divergences at all, whereas the timing of the lizard and fish N/S splits are different (i.e. temporally incongruent).

Typically, comparative phylogeographic studies have looked at the neutral components of species’ evolution (as is the realm of traditional phylogeography). This includes studying the size of populations over time, how well connected they are and were, what their spatial patterns are and how these relate to the environment. Comparing all of these patterns across species can allow us to start painting a fuller picture of the history of biota in a region. In this way, we can start to see exactly which species have shown what responses and start to relate these to the characteristics that allowed them to respond in that certain way (and including adaptation in our studies). So, what kinds of traits are important?

What traits matter? Who wins?

Often, we find that life history traits of an organism better dictates how they will respond to a certain pressure than other factors such as phylogeny (e.g. one group does not always do better than another). Instead, individual species with certain physical characteristics might handle the pressure better than others. For example, a fish, bird and snake that are all able to tolerate higher temperatures than other fish, birds or snakes in that region are more likely to survive a drought. In this case, none of the groups (fish, birds or snakes) inherently do better than the other two groups. Thus, it can be hard to predict how a large swathe of species will respond to any given environmental change, unless we understand the physical characteristics of every species.

Climate change risk flowchart
A generalised framework of various factors, and their interactions, on the vulnerability of species under current and future climate changes by Williams et al. 2018. The schematic includes genetic, ecological, physical and environmental factors and how these can interact with one another to alleviate or exacerbate the risk of extinction.

We can also see that other physiological or ecological traits, such as climatic preferences and tolerance thresholds, can be critical for adapting to climatic pressures. Naturally, the genetic diversity of species is also an important component underlying their ability to adapt to these new selective pressures and to survive into the future. Trying to incorporate all of these factors into a projected model can be difficult, but with more data of higher quality we can start to make more refined predictions. But by understanding how particular traits influence how well a species may adapt to a changing climate, as well as knowing the what traits different species have, might just be the key to predicting who wins and who dies in the real-world Game of Thrones.

Evolution and the space-time continuum

Evolution travelling in time

As I’ve mentioned a few times before, evolution is a constant force that changes and flows over time. While sometimes it’s more convenient to think of evolution as a series of rather discrete events (a species pops up here, a population separates here, etc.), it’s really a more continual process. The context and strength of evolutionary forces, such as natural selection, changes as species and the environment they inhabit also changes. This is important to remember in evolutionary studies because although we might think of more recent and immediate causes of the evolutionary changes we see, they might actually reflect much more historic patterns. For example, extremely low contemporary levels of genetic diversity in cheetah is likely largely due to a severe reduction in their numbers during the last ice age, ~12 thousand years ago (that’s not to say that modern human issues haven’t also been seriously detrimental to them). Similarly, we can see how the low genetic diversity of a small population colonise a new area can have long term effects on their genetic variation: this is called ‘founder effect’. Because of this, we often have to consider the temporal aspect of a species’ evolution.

Founder effect diagram
An example of founder effect. Each circle represents a single organism; the different colours are an indicator of how much genetic diversity that individual possesses (more colours = more variation). We start with a single population; one (A) or two (B) individuals go on a vacation and decide to stay on a new island. Even after the population has become established and grows over time, it takes a long time for new diversity to arise. This is because of the small original population size and genetic diversity; this is called founder effect. The more genetic diversity in the settled population (e.g. vs A), the faster new diversity arises and the weaker the founder effect.

Evolution travelling across space

If the environmental context of species and populations are also important for determining the evolutionary pathways of organisms, then we must also consider the spatial context. Because of this, we also need to look at where evolution is happening in the world; what kinds of geographic, climatic, hydrological or geological patterns are shaping and influencing the evolution of species? These patterns can influence both neutral or adaptive processes by shaping exactly how populations or species exist in nature; how connected they are, how many populations they can sustain, how large those populations can sustainably become, and what kinds of selective pressures those populations are under.

Allopatry diagram
An example of how the environment (in this case, geology) can have both neutral and adaptive effects. Let’s say we start with one big population of cats (N = 9; A), which is distributed over a single large area (the green box). However, a sudden geological event causes a mountain range to uplift, splitting the population in two (B). Because of the reduced population size and the (likely) randomness of which individuals are on each side, we expect some impact of genetic drift. Thus, this is the neutral influence. Over time, these two separated regions might change climatically (C), with one becoming much more arid and dry (right) and the other more wet and shady (left). Because of the difference of the selective environment, the two populations might adapt differently. This is the adaptive influence. 

Evolution along the space-time continuum

Given that the environment also changes over time (and can be very rapid, and we’ve seen recently), the interaction of the spatial and temporal aspects of evolution are critical in understanding the true evolutionary history of species. As we know, the selective environment is what determines what is, and isn’t, adaptive (or maladaptive), so we can easily imagine how a change in the environment could push changes in species. Even from a neutral perspective, geography is important to consider since it can directly determine which populations are or aren’t connected, how many populations there are in total or how big populations can sustainably get. It’s always important to consider how evolution travels along the space-time continuum.

Genetics TARDIS
“Postgraduate Student Who” doesn’t quite have the same ring to it, unfortunately.

Phylogeography

The field of evolutionary science most concerned with these two factors and how the influence evolution is known as ‘phylogeography’, which I’ve briefly mentioned in previous posts. In essence, phylogeographers are interested in how the general environment (e.g. geology, hydrology, climate, etc) have influenced the distribution of genealogical lineages. That’s a bit of a mouthful and seems a bit complicated, by the genealogical part is important; phylogeography has a keen basis in evolutionary genetics theory and analysis, and explicitly uses genetic data to test patterns of historic evolution. Simply testing the association between broad species or populations, without the genetic background, and their environment, falls under the umbrella field of ‘biogeography’. Semantics, but important.

Birds phylogeo
Some example phylogeographic models created by Zamudio et al. (2016). For each model, there’s a demonstrated relationship between genealogical lineages (left) and the geographic patterns (right), with the colours of the birds indicating some trait (let’s pretend they’re actually super colourful, as birds are). As you can see, depending on which model you look at, you will see a different evolutionary pattern; for example, model shows specific lineages that are geographically isolated from one another each evolved their own colour. This contrasts with in that each colour appears to have evolved once in each region based on the genetic history.

For phylogeography, the genetic history of populations or species gives the more accurate overview of their history; it allows us to test when populations or species became separated, which were most closely related, and whether patterns are similar or different across other taxonomic groups. Predominantly, phylogeography is based on neutral genetic variation, as using adaptive variation can confound the patterns we are testing. Additionally, since neutral variation changes over time in a generally predictable, mathematical format (see this post to see what I mean), we can make testable models of various phylogeographic patterns and see how well our genetic data makes sense under each model. For example, we could make a couple different models of how many historic populations there were and see which one makes the most sense for our data (with a statistical basis, of course). This wouldn’t work with genes under selection since they (by their nature) wouldn’t fit a standard ‘neutral’ model.

Coalescent
If it looks mathematically complicated, it’s because it is. This is an example of the coalescent from Brito & Edwards, 2008: a method that maps genes back in time (the different lines) to see where the different variants meet at a common ancestor. These genes are nested within the history of the species as a whole (the ‘tubes’), with many different variables accounted for in the model.

That said, there are plenty of interesting scientific questions within phylogeography that look at exploring the adaptive variation of historic populations or species and how this has influenced their evolution. Although this can’t inherently be built into the same models as the neutral patterns, looking at candidate genes that we think are important for evolution and seeing how their distributions and patterns relate to the overall phylogeographic history of the species is one way of investigating historic adaptive evolution. For example, we might track changes in adaptive genes by seeing which populations have which variants of the gene and referring to our phylogeographic history to see how and when these variants arose. This can help us understand how phylogeographic patterns have influenced the adaptive evolution of different populations or species, or inversely, how adaptive traits might have influenced the geographic distribution of species or populations.

Where did you come from and where will you go?

Phylogeographic studies can tell us a lot about the history of a species, and particularly how that relates to the history of the Earth. All organisms share an intimate relationship with their environment, both over time and space, and keeping this in mind is key for understanding the true evolutionary history of life on Earth.

 

“Who Do You Think You Are?”: studying the evolutionary history of species

The constancy of evolution

Evolution is a constant, endless force which seeks to push and shape species based on the context of their environment: sometimes rapidly, sometimes much more gradually. Although we often think of discrete points of evolution (when one species becomes two, when a particular trait evolves), it is nevertheless a continual force that influences changes in species. These changes are often difficult to ‘unevolve’ and have a certain ‘evolutionary inertia’ to them; because of these factors, it’s often critical to understand how a history of evolution has generated the organisms we see today.

What do I mean when I say evolutionary history? Well, the term is fairly diverse and can relate to the evolution of particular traits or types of traits, or the genetic variation and changes related to these changes. The types of questions and points of interest of evolutionary history can depend at which end of the timescale we look at: recent evolutionary histories, and the genetics related to them, will tell us different information to very ancient evolutionary histories. Let’s hop into our symbolic DeLorean and take a look back in time, shall we?

Labelled_evolhistory
A timeslice of evolutionary history (a pseudo-phylogenetic tree, I guess?), going from more recent history (bottom left) to deeper history (top right). Each region denoted in the tree represents the generally area of focus for each of the following blog headings. 1: Recent evolutionary history might look at individual pedigrees, or comparing populations of a single species. 2: Slightly older comparisons might focus on how species have arisen, and the factors that drive this (part of ‘phylogeography’). 3: Deep history might focus on the origin of whole groups of organisms and a focus on the evolution of particular traits like venom or sociality.

Very recent evolutionary history: pedigrees and populations

While we might ordinarily consider ‘evolutionary history’ to refer to events that happened thousands or millions of years ago, it can still be informative to look at history just a few generations ago. This often involves looking at pedigrees, such as in breeding programs, and trying to see how very short term and rapid evolution may have occurred; this can even include investigating how a particular breeding program might accidentally be causing the species to evolve to adapt to captivity! Rarely does this get referred to as true evolutionary history, but it fits on the spectrum, so I’m going to count it. We might also look at how current populations are evolving differently to one another, to try and predict how they’ll evolve into the future (and thus determine which ones are most at risk, which ones have critically important genetic diversity, and the overall survivability of the total species). This is the basis of ‘evolutionarily significant units’ or ESUs which we previously discussed on The G-CAT.

Captivefishcomic
Maybe goldfish evolved 3 second memory to adapt to the sheer boringness of captivity? …I’m joking, of course: the memory thing is a myth and adaptation works over generations, not a lifetime.

A little further back: phylogeography and species

A little further back, we might start to look at how different populations have formed or changed in semi-recent history (usually looking at the effect of human impacts: we’re really good at screwing things up I’m sorry to say). This can include looking at how populations have (or have not) adapted to new pressures, how stable populations have been over time, or whether new populations are being ‘made’ by recent barriers. At this level of populations and some (or incipient) species, we can find the field of ‘phylogeography’, which involves the study of how historic climate and geography have shaped the evolution of species or caused new species to evolve.

Evolution of salinity
An example of trait-based phylogenetics, looking at the biogeographic patterns and evolution/migration to freshwater in perch-like fishes, by Chen et al. (2014). The phylogeny shows that a group of fishes adapted to freshwater environments (black) from a (likely) saltwater ancestor (white), with euryhaline tolerance evolving two separate times (grey).

One high profile example of phylogeographic studies is the ‘Out of Africa’ hypothesis and debate for the origination of the modern human species. Although there has been no shortage of debate about the origin of modern humans, as well as the fate of our fellow Neanderthals and Denisovans, the ‘Out of Africa’ hypothesis still appears to be the most supported scenario.

human phylogeo
A generalised diagram of the ‘Out of Africa’ hypothesis of human migration, from Oppenheimer, 2012. 

Phylogeography is also component for determining and understanding ‘biodiversity hotspots’; that is, regions which have generated high levels of species diversity and contain many endemic species and populations, such as tropical hotspots or remote temperate regions. These are naturally of very high conservation value and contribute a huge amount to Earth’s biodiversity, ecological functions and potential for us to study evolution in action.

Deep, deep history: phylogenetics and the origin of species (groups)

Even further back, we start to delve into the more traditional concept of evolutionary history. We start to look at how species have formed; what factors caused them to become new species, how stable the new species are, and what are the genetic components underlying the change. This subfield of evolution is called ‘phylogenetics’, and relates to understanding how species or groups of species have evolved and are related to one another.

Sometimes, this includes trying to look at how particular diagnostic traits have evolved in a certain group, like venom within snakes or eusocial groups in bees. Phylogenetic methods are even used to try and predict which species of plants might create compounds which are medically valuable (like aspirin)! Similarly, we can try and predict how invasive a pest species may be based on their phylogenetic (how closely related the species are) and physiological traits in order to safeguard against groups of organisms that are likely to run rampant in new environments. It’s important to understand how and why these traits have evolved to get a good understanding of exactly how the diversity of life on Earth came about.

evolution of venom
An example of looking at trait evolution with phylogenetics, focusing on the evolution of venom in snakes, from Reyes-Velasco et al. (2014). The size of the boxes demonstrates the number of species in each group, with the colours reflecting the number of venomous (red) vs. non-venomous (grey) species. The red dot shows the likely origin of venom.

Phylogenetics also allows us to determine which species are the most ‘evolutionarily unique’; all the special little creatures of plant Earth which represent their own unique types of species, such as the tuatara or the platypus. Naturally, understanding exactly how precious and unique these species are suggests we should focus our conservation attention and particularly conserve them, since there’s nothing else in the world that even comes close!

Who cares what happened in the past right? Well, I do, and you should too! Evolution forms an important component of any conservation management plan, since we obviously want to make sure our species can survive into the future (i.e. adapt to new stressors). Trying to maintain the most ‘evolvable’ groups, particularly within breeding programs, can often be difficult when we have to balance inbreeding depression (not having enough genetic diversity) with outbreeding depression (obscuring good genetic diversity by adding bad genetic diversity into the gene pool). Often, we can best avoid these by identifying which populations are evolutionarily different to one another (see ESUs) and using that as a basis, since outbreeding vs. inbreeding depression can be very difficult to measure. This all goes back to the concept of ‘adaptive potential’ that we’ve discussed a few times before.

In any case, a keen understanding of the evolutionary trajectory of a species is a crucial component for conservation management and to figure out the processes and outcomes of evolution in the real world. Thus, evolutionary history remains a key area of research for both conservation and evolution-related studies.

 

Welcome to The G-CAT!

Hi all! Welcome to The Genetics Cat, or The G-CAT for short! This blog was initially started as a way for me to not only practice writing and communicating science to the general public, but also as an avenue for me to share scientific research that I’m interested in to a broader community. As one might expect, this blog will predominantly feature discussions of evolution, ecology and genetics in a (hopefully) digestible manner. I will try to keep the topics broad to encompass a range of interests, but I undoubtedly have a bias towards conservation and evolutionary genetics…that said, if you have suggestions for content you’d like to see, please request away! I will try my absolute best to facilitate them!

You may be shocked to discover that this blog is, in fact, not written by a cat. In fact, I don’t even study cats. I’m sorry to burst that bubble for you. My real name is Sean Buckley, and I’m a PhD student within the Molecular Ecology Lab of Flinders University (MELFU) in Adelaide, South Australia. My research involves using large-scale genetic data to investigate the evolutionary history of a group of rather cute, and very endangered, small endemic freshwater fish known as the pygmy perches.

Yarra pygmy perch
One of the charismatic critters I work with! This is a Yarra pygmy perch, who is currently a founder of a genetics-based captive breeding program for a population that is now extinct in the wild.

Specifically, my research aims to use genomic data and complex statistical modelling to see how some species of pygmy perches have changed over time. Particularly, I will look at how their population sizes, genetic connectivity and distributions have changed throughout history, and how these relate to changes in the climate, geology and hydrology of their habitats. My research will help to address historical patterns of genetic diversity and evolution in freshwater organisms across Australia, as well as inform conservation management of modern pygmy perches.

Prior to my PhD, I also did an Honours thesis on a similar topic, but focusing on the broad evolutionary (phylogenetic) relationships of pygmy perches. These patterns were related to historic environmental factors across the continent of Australia. Furthermore, through my Honours research, I discovered that one species of pygmy perch is actually three genetically distinct but physically indistinguishable species! My PhD will expand on these to (hopefully) start to suggest some of the environmental and spatial factors that may have influenced this previously hidden diversity of species.

Without further ado, welcome to The G-CAT!