Threespine sticklebacks, numerous species of disease-causing bacteria, and Darwin’s finches have all shown rapid evolutionary change in response to changing environments. Evolutionary ecologists use a variety of genetic and molecular approaches to study evolutionary change in these and other species. Gene flow, genetic drift, mutation, and natural selection can cause evolutionary change within a population, but natural selection is the only evolutionary process that can lead to adaptation. The benefits and costs of adaptations are environment-dependent and reflect evolutionary tradeoffs, so a trait may be beneficial in one environmental context and costly in a second. Natural selection may lead to speciation when genetic divergence is maintained either by physical barriers to gene flow, or by assortative mating of similar genotypes within a population. Evolutionary ecologists compare morphological, behavioral, and, most commonly, molecular characters in related groups of organisms, and use similarities in these characters to create phylogenetic trees that reflect evolutionary relationships.

Concept formation in the wild may be understood as dialectical interplay of evolution and design. Formative interventions such as the Change Laboratory operate in zones where evolution and design meet. Their message may be condensed as “Do not try to dictate the shape of change; get involved in it and allow your own preconceived ideas be transformed in the process.” This requires first of all participatory analysis of the historical development of the contradictions at hand. It is the contradictions experienced and identified by the participants, not the vision of the interventionist, that give direction to the change effort. The second condition is object-orientation. When the object is kept in focus and given a voice, the interventionist’s preconceived ideas are challenged and often fade into the background.

The process of how we get from gene to protein is one of the most intensely studied and best understood in biology. The reading of DNA, the generation of a messenger ribonucleic acid (mRNA) and the translation of that transcript into a protein through assembling chains of amino acids. But what we thought we knew about the gene pathway changed forever in 1993, when Gary Ruvkun and Victor Ambros discovered microRNAs. This chapter begins by explaining the basic biochemistry of genes and proteins before moving on to the seminal work of 30 years ago. The objective of those experiments was to understand which genes controlled the timing of animal development in a worm called Caenorhabditis elegans. That led to the realisation that a gene called lin−4, crucial for worms to transition from juvenile to adult stages, did not code for a protein; instead, its RNA acted by sticking to the mRNA of a protein-coding gene. Lin−4 was a gene silencer, working to lower the amounts of protein in cells. The finding of a new step on the journey from gene to protein would go on to transform our understanding of the biology of living organisms.

Seven years passed since the discovery of lin−4’s unique properties and then, around the turn of the millennium, the research floodgates opened. This chapter tracks the nascent field of microRNA research, the frenetic race to discover and catalogue new microRNAs and find the organisms in which they were made. MicroRNAs held a prominent position in evolution, their number and diversity expanding at key transitions to more complex life, including for our own species, Homo sapiens. MicroRNAs, it would become clear, are the genome’s solution to how to control the natural fluctuations, randomness and noise in gene expression. The chapter also covers the pivotal experiments that laid the ground rules for how microRNAs work and revealed their effects on gene expression. Along the way, a selection of the scientific toolkit gets special attention, including some of the models used to find microRNAs and the technologies that would prove that microRNAs, despite their small size and limited number in genomes, controlled the vast majority of gene activity in our cells.

The nature of culture and cosmologies, the role of utopian thinking in modern societies, and the limits of social change and activism.

This chapter describes the topography and monuments of Antioch as known through the textual sources and archaeological investigations. The earthquakes that shattered the city on various occasions are also foregrounded.

In popular narratives of paleoanthropology and human origins, Charles Darwin is customarily cited as the first person to propose in 1871 that the African continent was the original home of the human species—a proposition subsequently supported in 1925 by Raymond Dart’s announcement of the discovery of Australopithecus africanus. While correct in its details, this mythological reading of the discovery of African origins elides critical points of debate and disjuncture and quietly obscures the formative roles of race science and racist science in the development of the evolutionary sciences. This chapter explores whether Darwin’s original hypothesis was as unusual as customarily claimed; when and how Dart’s Australopithecus came to be accepted as valid evolutionary evidence; and traces the mid-twentieth century origins of the myth itself.

Charles Darwin publicly denied being influenced by the evolutionary ideas of his grandfather Erasmus, yet he took the trouble to write the biography of this ancestor he never met and praised him for possessing “the true spirit of the philosopher”. Although Charles’s natural selection was formulated within the context of Victorian capitalism, their theories show some striking similarities; moreover, there is clear evidence – such as annotations – that Charles closely studied Erasmus’s writings on evolution. Erasmus’s behavior and beliefs were inevitably conveyed down to following generations, including his warnings about hereditary alcoholism and the family abhorrence of slavery. It was in Charles’s interests to distance himself from a discredited relative and present natural selection as the only viable alternative to repeated miraculous creation. The extent of Erasmus’s effect on his grandson must remain speculative, but it cannot be dismissed.

Ranging in date from ~3 mya to ~250 kya, this chapter examines the palaeontological and archaeological evidence for hominin evolution from the late Pliocene to the late Middle Pleistocene. It discusses southern Africa’s main fossil hominin sites, emphasising discoveries from the Cradle of Humankind since 2000, including Australopithecus prometheus, Australopithecus sediba, and Homo naledi. Further afield, attention is directed to the significance of work at sites like Wonderwerk and its expansion into long-neglected areas like the Eastern Cape. Key issues discussed include the problems created by continuing to use Linnaean taxonomy; identifying which hominin(s) made stone tools at any one time; the ecology and diet of individual hominin taxa; the role of tools (including fire) in hominin adaptations; the importance of understanding formation processes at both site and landscape scales; and transformations in material culture, including more sophisticated approaches for analysing lithic assemblages and new work on the transition to the Middle Stone Age. For all these topics, comparisons are drawn where relevant with East Africa and other parts of the world.

For decades it was widely believed that Darwin avoided publishing his theory of evolution for many years. Many explanations were proposed to identify Darwin’s reasons or motives for doing so. This chapter demonstrates that Darwin’s delay is a recent historiographical theme for which there is no clear evidence, and indeed is overwhelmingly contradicted by the historical evidence. It is also shown that Darwin’s belief in evolution was not a secret before publication. Instead of a man afraid of his secret theory being revealed to his prejudiced contemporaries, it is demonstrated that Darwin was understandably very busy and began his species book when he had completed work in hand, just as he had intended all along.

Histories of both emotion and sexuality explore the ways that bodies and embodied practices are shaped by time, culture, and location. This chapter uses the theoretical and methodological insights from the History of Emotions to consider the emotions associated with sexuality and how these have taken cultural form at different moments. It first considers the emotions related to sexual function and desire, noting how different biological models informed what emotions were expected and experienced. It then turns to love as the predominant emotion connected with sexual practices, considering the boundaries of who and what should be incorporated within such feeling. The chapter then turns to an exploration of the emotions, particularly intimacy, of reproductive labour, acknowledging sexual practices, including those are contractual and exploitative, that sometimes sit uneasily within a framework of love. Finally, the chapter highlights some of the emotions produced by the management and policing of sexuality, such as shame and loneliness, recognising that sexuality has been a contested moral domain for many groups. Using diverse examples across time and space, this chapter seeks to denaturalise the emotions of sexuality and to provide a framework upon which further research can build.

This chapter examines the origins and legacy of sexology – the scientific study of sexuality – in the modern world. First consolidated into a coherent programme in the late nineteenth century, sexology has its roots in the re-organization of knowledge about nature in the frameworks of taxonomy, evolutionism, and race. A pervasive preoccupation with heredity gave rise to powerful eugenics movements around the world. The interest in controlling variability and unlocking the secrets of the soul generated parallel developments in biomedicine, especially psychoanalysis and endocrinology. Sex experts worldwide converged in diagnosing cultural signs of homosexuality for the purpose of national modernization. As the centre of gravity in sexual science began to shift from Europe to North America, researchers gave growing support to the sex/gender distinction and redefined the meanings of normality. In the waning days of hereditarian theories, the rise of cultural anthropology coupled with a renewed scientific investment of colonial powers to reverse hierarchical templates of sexual practices and norms emanating from the metropoles. A public health crisis (HIV/AIDS), social movements (gender and sexual minority rights), and the systematization of research protocols (bioethics) shaped a comeback of biological sexology in the closing decades of the twentieth century.

With the emergence of big data and artificial intelligence, the feasibility of central planning has again become a popular topic. The essential feature of the planned economy is the use of systematic and institutional force to negate entrepreneurship and deprive individuals of the freedom to choose, especially the freedom to start a business and innovate. Can big data revive the planned economy? The essence of this question is: Can big data displace entrepreneurship? The impossibility of a big data-based planned economy is demonstrated from five perspectives (i.e. the nature of knowledge, the nature of entrepreneurial decisions, the distinction between risk and uncertainty, the importance of ideas, and the evolutionary view). In other words, big data cannot replace entrepreneurship. The false belief that central planning is possible with big data is extremely naïve.