No one knows which way is up

No one knows which way is up

Artist's reconstruction of Hallucigenia sparsa • Image by Joshua Evans (CC BY-SA 4.0)

Originally published 17 June 1991

This is the tale of top­sy-turvy Hal­lu­ci­ge­nia, a lit­tle ani­mal that does­n’t know which way is up. It is also a tale of sci­en­tif­ic rid­dles and how they are solved.

One of the biggest unsolved rid­dles in sci­ence is the Cam­bri­an Explosion.

Ever since Dar­win’s time, anti-evo­lu­tion­ists have made much of so-called “miss­ing links.” Their argu­ment goes like this: If all present life descend­ed from ear­li­er life by a sequence of tiny changes or muta­tions, then crea­tures rep­re­sent­ing every step in the pro­gres­sion should appear in the fos­sil record. But there are gaps. For exam­ple, the first bird, Archaeopteryx, appears out of nowhere, with­out a feath­ered ances­tor. Prov­ing that evo­lu­tion is false.

Or so say Cre­ation­ists. But in fact, Archaeopteryx is a rather con­vinc­ing miss­ing link. It shares feath­ers and fused clav­i­cles (wish­bone) with mod­ern birds. It shares a small brain, long tail, sep­a­rat­ed hand bones, and non-expand­ed ster­num with rep­tiles of its time. For evo­lu­tion­ists, Archaeopteryx fits com­fort­ably into the sto­ry of change by nat­ur­al selection.

The great­est of all sup­posed gaps in the fos­sil record — and the favorite miss­ing link of Cre­ation­ists — occurred at the begin­ning of the Cam­bri­an peri­od of geo­log­ic history.

Explosion of creatures

For 3 bil­lion years before the Cam­bri­an only micro­scop­ic, sin­gle-celled crea­tures inhab­it­ed the Earth. Then, quite sud­den­ly, between 600 and 500 mil­lion years ago, the oceans were swarm­ing with new kinds of crea­tures — sponges, trilo­bites, bra­chiopods, mol­lusks, jel­ly­fish, and, indeed, the ances­tors of near­ly all forms of life exist­ing today, plus many oth­er crea­tures with­out mod­ern prog­e­ny. Pale­on­tol­o­gists call this sud­den pro­lif­er­a­tion of life the Cam­bri­an Explo­sion.

Why did it happen?

Evo­lu­tion­ists are not cer­tain. They pon­der the rid­dle of the Cam­bri­an Explo­sion and look to nature for the answer.

Cre­ation­ists say the fos­sil ani­mals and plants of the Cam­bri­an Explo­sion are prod­ucts of the fifth and sixth days of Cre­ation, buried in sed­i­ments at the time of the Deluge.

By fix­ing them­selves so firm­ly in the­o­log­i­cal blind­ers, Cre­ation­ists cut them­selves off from one of the best sci­en­tif­ic detec­tive sto­ries of all time. What is worse, by pres­sur­ing state leg­is­la­tures and text­book pub­lish­ers to down­play or delete evo­lu­tion from school cur­ric­u­la, they seek to deprive Amer­i­can school chil­dren of a chance to enjoy the rid­dle and its solution.

Which brings us to Hal­lu­ci­ge­nia, a lit­tle inch-long ani­mal of Cam­bri­an seas.

The orig­i­nal spec­i­mens of Hal­lu­ci­ge­nia were found 82 years ago in the Burgess shale quar­ry of West­ern Cana­da. Until recent­ly, the Burgess shale was the best of the few known sites on Earth where soft-bod­ied Cam­bri­an flo­ra and fau­na have been pre­served. Hal­lu­ci­ge­nia is sure­ly the strangest ani­mal of Cam­bri­an seas. A recon­struc­tion of the ani­mal by British pale­on­tol­o­gist Simon Mor­ris appears in Stephen Jay Gould’s recent book, Won­der­ful Life: The Burgess Shale and the Nature of History.

In Mor­ris’s recon­struc­tion, Hal­lu­ci­ge­nia stands on sev­en pairs of thorn-like spikes, per­haps adapt­ed to climb­ing on sponges. A sin­gle row of flex­i­ble ten­ta­cles runs along Hal­lu­ci­ge­ni­a’s back, per­haps offer­ing sep­a­rate pas­sages to the ani­mal’s gul­let. It is not clear which end of the ani­mal is head and which is tail.

Hal­lu­ci­ge­nia “is real­ly weird,” writes Gould, adopt­ing the kid­s’s ver­nac­u­lar. The ani­mal’s name was cho­sen by Mor­ris to empha­size the weirdness.

In 1984, anoth­er trove of beau­ti­ful­ly pre­served Cam­bri­an fos­sils was dis­cov­ered in south Chi­na. Although half-a-world away from the Burgess shale quar­ry, the new ani­mals have many affini­ties with their Cana­di­an cousins.

Turned upside down

In a [May 1991] issue of Nature, L. Ram­sköld and Hou Xian­guang, of the Swedish Muse­um of Nat­ur­al His­to­ry and the Nan­jing Insti­tute of Geol­o­gy and Pale­on­tol­ogy, describe a cater­pil­lar-like crea­ture from the South Chi­na trove that turns the con­ven­tion­al view of Hal­lu­ci­ge­nia upside down.

The new ani­mal has anatom­i­cal sim­i­lar­i­ties with Hal­lu­ci­ge­nia. But this time the state of preser­va­tion is such that what had seemed to be a sin­gle row of ten­ta­cles on the back of Hal­lu­ci­ge­nia are now are inter­pret­ed as a dou­ble row of legs. And the spikes that Mor­ris thought were appendages adapt­ed for climb­ing on sponges are now inter­pret­ed as defen­sive armor.

So which way is up for Hal­lu­ci­ge­nia? Did the lit­tle beast walk on stiff stilts, stab­bing them into the soft bod­ies of sponges? Or, as the new fos­sils sug­gest, did it present its spikes defen­sive­ly to the world like the spines of a hedgehog?

The answer will not come by the­o­log­i­cal fiat, but by patient­ly exam­in­ing the rocks of west­ern Cana­da, south Chi­na, and any­where such fos­sils can be found, and — most impor­tant­ly — by being open to what­ev­er sur­pris­es nature has in store.

That’s how sci­ence works, and that’s how the rid­dle of the Cam­bri­an Explo­sion will be solved. Every new fos­sil dis­cov­ery fills a gap in our knowl­edge. Every new fos­sil helps bridge the miss­ing links.

Any ani­mal as weird as spiky Hal­lu­ci­ge­nia should be part of every school­child­’s knowl­edge of life. It’s a shame that chil­dren should be deprived of such mar­velous exam­ples of the diver­si­ty of Cre­ation by those who use the gaps in our knowl­edge as proofs of the Creator.

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