Ring species

The PBS Evolution Library has an entry called Ring Species: Salamanders.

The article discusses the breeding patterns of the Ensatina salamanders found on the Pacific coast and describes them as, “all descended from a common ancestral population. [of salamander]” 

The ring species of Ensatina salamanders is described as, “From one population to the next, in a circular pattern, these salamanders are still able to interbreed successfully. However, where the circle closes — in the black zone on the map in Southern California — the salamanders no longer interbreed successfully. The variation within a single species has produced differences as large as those between two separate species.”

To which I say, so what? There is a big difference between “don’t” and “can’t.” One wonders if these different types of salamanders no longer interbreed by choice or if they became biologically incapable of mating.  Why do they stop interbreeding?  Do we know, or only think we know?

Besides, whether they interbreed or not, these creatures all have the same salamander genome. We see the exact same behavior with dog breeding — most people know that you can put together two (male and female) dogs of the same breed and you’ll get purebred puppies, but if you put together two dogs of different breeds and allow them to mate, you’ll get a mutt. Chihuahuas and Great Danes don’t successfully mate very well due to physical limitations, and yet we still say we only have one species of canine. Yet with wild species, the slightest variation in kind can result in the declaration by scientists that a “new species” has been discovered, when in fact the discovery is most often a new variation on an existing species.

The article does seem to provide a clear and viable explanation for how diverse kinds of salamanders “evolve” into what some biologists classify as different species of salamander.  One can easily see how the behavior could be applied to explain how the different types of bears or Darwin’s finches developed over time. The PBS article tries to offer a helpful analogy: “In concept, this can be likened to a spiral-shaped parking garage. A driver notices only a gentle rise as he ascends the spiral, but after making one complete circle, he finds himself an entire floor above where he started.”

The only problem with that particular comparison is that while the driver completes the circle inside the parking garage, he’s still driving the same car.  His Ford Mustang did not change into an F-150 or a Honda Civic while he made the loop. It didn’t evolve into a motorcycle, a boat or an airplane, either.

Appropriately with this ring species, the ring begins and ends with a salamander.  As the PBS article noted:  “In some areas the two populations coexist, closing the “ring,” but do not interbreed. They are as distinct as though they were two separate species. Yet the entire complex of populations belongs to a single taxonomic species, Ensatina escholtzii.” Biologist David Wake was quoted to say, “Ring species are a beautiful example of species formation in action. All of the intermediate steps, normally missing, have been preserved, and that is what makes it so fascinating.”

However, the ring started and ended with the same taxonomic species of salamander.  How does that constitute any proof of speciation, even assuming that is the correct name of the theory to describe the formation of a truly new species? It would seem that if speciation is going to be considered the appropriate word to describe the development of a new species while there is still such significant controversy over what it means to be a species, perhaps it is time to coin a distinctly new term to describe process leading to the formation of a new basic animal type.

In my opinion, there needs to be a unique moniker for the theory of how bears and salamanders, for example, share a common ancestor. Natural selection describes variations within a “kind” of animal — what theory adequately explains the existence of two truly different species, such as bats and dolphins? What is the name of this comprehensive theory describing how grass, rats, snakes, dragon flies, frogs, and owls all simultaneously exist and related to a common ancestor, yet all be so radically different?

Once upon a time, shortly after the origin of life itself, there was only one type of single-celled organism that existed. It was either a plant or an autotroph because only sunlight or chemicals were available for food. According to the secular theories of existence, life “evolved” from that single-celled organism into every other organism on the planet, with only Time and sexual reproduction as the catalysts that allowed for such change.

But natural selection alone as we know and understand the process does not allow for such dramatic changes between a whale and a cow, for example. Natural selection gives us a good explanation for why Hereford, Holstein, and Guernsey cows all exist, and why blue whales, sperm whales, and killer whales exist, but so much why cows and whales both exist.

Both are mammals, and both are allegedly descended from either Sinoconodon rigneyi or Morganucodon watsoni, the top two candidates to be the first mammal, which appeared roughly 190 million years ago.

However, we know from modern biology that for Morganucodon watsoni to produce fertile offspring, it had to mate with another Morganucodon watsoni and produce Morganucodon watsoni offspring. There would be expected variation within the parameters of the Morganucodon watsoni genome and the constraints of dominant versus recessive genes.

And do you know what we never expect to be the product of sexual reproduction? Shapeshifting. Yet shapeshifting would seem to be required for any explanation that involves a rat transforming into a whale or a cow, simply if enough time is made available.

Time is not a panacea.