7
elevation on both sides of the valley was a horizontal buff-colored rock unit, a little
scorched from fire, from 1 m to 7 m in thickness, above the glacial rocks. I was both
surprised and extremely happy to see this. This must be the source rock for my little
snail shells! A couple of years earlier, my student and I had climbed up the hillside
and had, by chance, chosen a route through the brush that happened to be over a thin
part of the dolostone where it was hidden by vegetation.
With this new knowledge about the source of my “float” rock, I could now submit a research paper describing and illustrating these fossils to a peer-reviewed scientific journal. After review and editorial comments my coauthors and I revised the
paper and a year or so later it was finally published.
An Introduction to This Book
So why have I recounted a cautionary scientific tale? Well, first of all, the only
people who read my paper on the fossils I had found in the Walidiala Valley were
fellow paleontologists interested in the early Cambrian when many groups of animals and various kinds of single-celled organisms first acquired hard parts, in this
case, coiled shells. In other words, we scientists communicate through our publications in specialized journals with liked-minded people with similar interests. Most
of what scientists publish is never seen let alone read by anyone else. The proverbial
“man in the street” has little idea what scientists are doing and why the many avenues of research might be important. Indeed, importance, is not always self-evident.
Remember, for example, the conglomerates in Sierra Leone and the lack of gold.
Second, you’ll see that serendipity is a big part of this story. It was by chance that
I picked up my little buff-colored rock. It was by chance that my student and I
missed the source dolostone during our traverse up the valley sides. I had not
planned for returning to a valley almost devoid of vegetation. And I’m sure chance
had something to do with my grant proposal being funded. I could have received
reviews from anonymous scientists who did not like what I had written. But, instead,
the reviews were good, and I received the funding that enabled me to return to my
field site. It was also by chance that I knew paleontologists at the U.S. Geological
Survey who could collaborate with me. And that was the result of my being a postdoctoral researcher in the Department of Paleobiology at the Smithsonian Institution
at a time when the Survey’s paleontologists were housed in the Smithsonian’s
Natural History Museum along with Paleobiology’s paleontologists. This was the
result of a (successful) effort to encourage collaboration between the paleontologists of two of the most important scientific institutions in the US.
Third, you’ll understand now that the research I published on the little snail
shells was not only the result of chance finds but that it was the result of basic,
curiosity-driven science. That is one way to undertake research, but it is well
removed from what we are taught about at school – the scientific method. Geologists
are expected nowadays to undertake hypothesis-driven research. The geologist
develops a hypothesis about a topic of interest, often based on previously conducted
1 A Cautionary Scientific Tale and an Introduction to This Book
elevation on both sides of the valley was a horizontal buff-colored rock unit, a little
scorched from fire, from 1 m to 7 m in thickness, above the glacial rocks. I was both
surprised and extremely happy to see this. This must be the source rock for my little
snail shells! A couple of years earlier, my student and I had climbed up the hillside
and had, by chance, chosen a route through the brush that happened to be over a thin
part of the dolostone where it was hidden by vegetation.
With this new knowledge about the source of my “float” rock, I could now submit a research paper describing and illustrating these fossils to a peer-reviewed scientific journal. After review and editorial comments my coauthors and I revised the
paper and a year or so later it was finally published.
An Introduction to This Book
So why have I recounted a cautionary scientific tale? Well, first of all, the only
people who read my paper on the fossils I had found in the Walidiala Valley were
fellow paleontologists interested in the early Cambrian when many groups of animals and various kinds of single-celled organisms first acquired hard parts, in this
case, coiled shells. In other words, we scientists communicate through our publications in specialized journals with liked-minded people with similar interests. Most
of what scientists publish is never seen let alone read by anyone else. The proverbial
“man in the street” has little idea what scientists are doing and why the many avenues of research might be important. Indeed, importance, is not always self-evident.
Remember, for example, the conglomerates in Sierra Leone and the lack of gold.
Second, you’ll see that serendipity is a big part of this story. It was by chance that
I picked up my little buff-colored rock. It was by chance that my student and I
missed the source dolostone during our traverse up the valley sides. I had not
planned for returning to a valley almost devoid of vegetation. And I’m sure chance
had something to do with my grant proposal being funded. I could have received
reviews from anonymous scientists who did not like what I had written. But, instead,
the reviews were good, and I received the funding that enabled me to return to my
field site. It was also by chance that I knew paleontologists at the U.S. Geological
Survey who could collaborate with me. And that was the result of my being a postdoctoral researcher in the Department of Paleobiology at the Smithsonian Institution
at a time when the Survey’s paleontologists were housed in the Smithsonian’s
Natural History Museum along with Paleobiology’s paleontologists. This was the
result of a (successful) effort to encourage collaboration between the paleontologists of two of the most important scientific institutions in the US.
Third, you’ll understand now that the research I published on the little snail
shells was not only the result of chance finds but that it was the result of basic,
curiosity-driven science. That is one way to undertake research, but it is well
removed from what we are taught about at school – the scientific method. Geologists
are expected nowadays to undertake hypothesis-driven research. The geologist
develops a hypothesis about a topic of interest, often based on previously conducted
1 A Cautionary Scientific Tale and an Introduction to This Book