EPILOGUE

There remain perhaps thousands of undescribed jewel beetle species, many in the boxes and drawers of museums and the reference collections of some contemporary colleagues. The only very well known faunas are those of the western Palaearctic and the northeastern Nearctic regions. Each time we go out collecting, especially far from home and into a relatively unknown and under-collected area, the potential to bring back species new to science is there. Some of us would rather collect than write descriptions which, while understandable, deflects the chance for a better understanding of these beetles, sooner and never, perhaps, later. It is only a bet that the next generations will finish the descriptive phase and with the continuing disappearance of so much habitat, gathering specimens while they still exist is a better use of our time now. This is true, in part, only if we are willing to gamble that there will be a next generation trained to do traditional taxonomy and systematics instead of being lost in chasing the next Holy Grail, i.e. molecular systematics, in lieu of classical studies. Whether we get lost in the dead-end of bar coding, or fall head-over-heels into a thorough, robust molecular phylogeny, there are just so many taxa awaiting description that few now can recognize. So many of the jewel beetle taxa that we already know are only represented in collections by the primary type specimen and while they may or may not still be extant in nature, what is the chance of eventually having a complete set of molecular sequences for the grand unifying phylogeny? Does anyone really imagine that if every organism is someday sequenced, thus possibly revealing all of those not christened with names and descriptions, that the descriptive process will accelerate from what it is now?

To repeat from the Prologue, “In the last two decades of the 20th Century, an increasing interest in the global environment and the continuing loss of biological diversity through habitat alteration and destruction led to the 1992 UNESCO Convention on Biological Diversity, held at Rio de Janeiro, Brasil. Through this nearly universally ratified convention, each nation on earth undertook to provide a complete inventory of its respective flora and fauna. This work is offered to contribute to that undertaking.”

I wonder how many nations are still making progress satisfying their governments’ ratification of this 1992 convention? And how many countries have made it more difficult, rather than easier, to allow collecting within their own borders? There does seem to be a trend by some countries to actually inhibit collecting, both by their own citizens and local scientists as well as by visiting scientists. Some of this may be to curtail the trade in wildlife, but much of it is the specious belief that many, or most, biological specimens contain hidden biochemical and pharmaceutical treasures that must be protected from exploitation by visiting naturalists whom are there solely to poach as agents of first world interests. Meanwhile many of the same countries do little, if anything, to slow habitat loss to encroaching unsustainable development, such as rainforest clearing for increased urban sprawl and farming. If, in fact, with modern biochemical assays, some species of jewel beetles are eventually found to possess an anti-aging or anti-cancer component that can be converted into the next miracle cure, the benefits should be shared with, or fully enjoyed by, the country of origin. However, remembering the basics, we cannot have conversations about species without the common language of taxonomy. So the descriptive acts will still be needed and will need to be in place before the discussions about cures or threats or sustainable development can begin.

I wonder how many extant classically-trained systematists receive any funding for what is clearly the under-appreciated process of scientific description? I know that many of my colleagues receive no financial support directly from their academic department or government employer. Many of us who discover and describe new animal and plant (etc.) species are expected to pay for the entire set of costs of the complete process. Many defer from this activity because it isn’t immediately supported by government and scientific agencies who fund basic scientific research. However, within the advent of Zootaxa and Zoobank, things have become more affordable, more rapid, more fixed and more widely available. I believe that taxonomy has actually become a bad word, or at least one that greatly lowers the funding potential for grants and scholarships. Sometimes there is funding available but only for the large projects using new techniques and technology, e.g. the machine that goes “Ping”! [Monty Python (1983) The Meaning of Life: The Miracle of Birth]

I generally applaud and support ‘big science’ and the search for our origins here and evidence of life elsewhere in the universe is an indisputably necessary human pursuit. My father played a significant role, amongst thousands who worked on the Apollo project, to achieve President John F. Kennedy’s national goal “of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to the earth” by the end of the 1960s. However, I also think, in an age when the loss of biological diversity from habitat destruction and climate change is widely accepted and accelerating, and we know that many plant and animal species will go extinct in our lifetime and often before description, that some of the resources earmarked to send the next robotic naturalist to Mars or satellite to the moons of Jupiter, could be reserved for those among us who would like to expand the encyclopedia of life on Earth. We’ve spent so much money looking outward from this planet that it seems extraordinary that we cannot spend proportionately looking back. We have recently celebrated the 40th anniversary of the first trip to the moon and back by Apollo 8 in December of 1968. During that historical voyage, the crew photographed the now iconic image of the Earth seen over the lunar horizon and three astronauts (Anders, Borman, Lovell) broadcast back to Earth a reading of a section from The Bible’s Genesis 1, verses 1 to 10, starting with: “In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.”

With that reminder of our commonality with, and responsibility for, all life on Earth, here in conclusion, I repeat some of the quotes and statements made in the Prologue and Introduction to again remind us that taxonomy is man’s oldest profession:


“... and Adam named all the animals.” Genesis 2:20

The oldest written documents, cuneiform tablets from Iraq, were lists of the names of animals.

Australian Aborigines believe that until the first men named things, they didn’t exist.

If you do not know the names, the knowledge of things is wasted.
Precept of the Greek botanist Isodorus

The number of minute and obscurely-colored beetles is exceedingly great.
It is sufficient to disturb the composure of an entomologist’s mind,
to look forward to the future dimensions of a complete catalogue
.

Charles Darwin

Where the telescope ends, the microscope begins. Which of the two has the grander view?
Victor Hugo

Biologists will never be sure that they have found and named every last species on earth.
But they have a long way to go before they can even wonder
.

Nigel Stork & Kevin Gaston - New Scientist 1990