Climate of Fear Comic

Time for another geeky comic!

If you missed my first one, check out my Mesopredator Release Comic.

This one probably requires a little science lesson in order to put it into context.

One of the sexiest issues in wildlife biology today (by sexy I mean new, packed with buzz words, and full of controversy) is the concept of Trophic Cascades. "Trophic" refers to the food chain. Plants are on the 1st trophic level, herbivores are on the 2nd, predators on the 3rd, etc. When a predator (e.g. wolf) effects the abundance of the organisms in a lower trophic level (e.g. grass), by changing the abundance of an organism in an intermediate trophic level (e.g. deer), that's called a trophic cascade.

Basically, wolves don't directly control the amount of grass because they don't eat grass. But if wolves move into an area that has a ton of deer and very little grass (because the deer eat it all) and the wolves eat a bunch of deer, then the grass will come back (because there's not as many deer there to eat it). That's a trophic cascade. It's a form of "top down regulation". Predators (the top) regulate the bottom (the grass) by regulating the middle (the deer). The recovery of the grass is a type of "density mediated response". The deer population is less dense so the grass responds.

Still with me?

This is all well and good. I get all this. It works for me. The part I have an issue with is called the "Climate of Fear Response". This hypothesizes that the predators might actually effect the lower trophic level simply by scaring the middle trophic level away. Basically, the grass comes back because the deer are to scared of the wolves to stick around and eat, regardless of how many deer there are. It sounds fairly intuitive but the jury is still out about the science. I, for one, don't hold to it. 

That having been said, here is my Climate of Fear Comic!

Fantastic Satire and Great Dialog!

Thank You, Mr. George Carlin

I am a vain person. Not all around and not excessively, but I am vain none the less. I think everyone has their vanities: professional, social, aesthetic, athletic. My vanity is intellectual. I like thinking that I’m smart, that I’m well read. I like to think that my opinions are formed based on information from particularly pertinent and credible sources. I like using big words. I get pleasure from teaching, in part, because I enjoy being the source of information. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I am an intellectual snob, but there is vanity in me that I see.

One symptom of it is that I am often determined not to care about pop-culture and those that inhabit that niche of society. I abhor tabloids and, although I shouldn’t, I look down on people who read them (not much, just a little). I admit the tragedy in the death of a celebrity but rarely care about the particulars. This morning shattered that serenity more that I care to admit. This morning I found out that George Carlin died.

George Carlin was a comedian. That’s what all the tributes that will come out over the next days, weeks, and years will start with. They will talk about the “7 Words You Can’t Say on TV” bit, one of his best. The tributes will mention the implication of the bit on the legal and moral debate over censorship. “All the way to the Supreme Court”, they will read. What they won’t say, what it’s difficult to convey, is Mr. Carlin’s influence on the way we think; the way we perceive the world and our place in it.

As I said above, I’m vain. I don’t like admitting being influenced by someone that made their living in TV and the movies. But upon reflection when learning of his death, I was surprised to admit to myself that George Carlin probably contributed more of who I am, specifically the way I think about things, than I thought possible. I want to keep things in perspective; I don’t think he made any bulk contributions to who I am in one area or another. More accurately, he added little snippets of influence here and there: religion, politics, sports, war, gay rights, sex, abortion, and women’s rights to name a few. My conscience seems to be riddled with little bits of his bits.

The thing is, I don’t mind. I’m proud to have them there. Even though the tributes will all say he was a comedian, I have always thought of him first as a philosopher or a particularly insightful social commentator. He just used comedy as a vessel to teach people about the things they weren’t seeing; and he was good at it. The vessel and the contents merged into the same. Insight coupled with humor; it’s hard to beat. Not only was he intelligent enough to see, he was gifted enough to convey. That's his legacy as much as the laughter; the fact that when the laughter dies away, people are still left thinking. I, personally, thank him for both.

Thank you for reading.