Making sense of nature – ordering its different forms and naming its various characters – is a scientific practice that dates back centuries. Since Aristotle’s day, the field of taxonomy and systematics has been developed by scientists and natural historians to classify our planet’s inhabitants. In today’s conservation climate, this oft-ignored sector is increasingly important as subspecies are translocated across regions and new species are discovered with little time to spare before they disappear entirely. Dr Dave Ebert tells Lauren De Vos what it takes to attract students into what has been called a dying field and how shark taxonomy can be made exciting and relevant to a new generation and a wider audience.
Lost Shark Guy’. That’s Dave Ebert’s nickname in the shark world and it gives a clue to the purpose, and passion, he’s found in his scientific career: to search the oceans for undiscovered shark species. For a field that is often poorly understood outside the scientific world, Dave’s zeal has done much to make his discovery of more than 40 new shark species familiar to a wider audience. If ever you’ve channel-surfed different natural history documentaries, chances are you’ve encountered his work on Alien Sharks for Discovery Channel’s Shark Week or for the BBC series Shark. For scientists, his work is familiar as we page through seminal tomes like Sharks of the World to identify the various species we work with and try to understand. Dave’s background lies, in fact, in the field of ecology. For his MSc he worked on the life history of sixgill Hexanchus griseus and sevengill Notorynchus cepedianus sharks that cruise the California coast in the eastern North Pacific Ocean. It was his association with the shark taxonomist Leonard Compagno that took him to South Africa and from there on to a lifetime of searching for sharks to name and describe.
‘Just as Leonard was leaving San Francisco, I jokingly suggested that if he needed anybody to carry his bags, he should let me know!’ Dave chuckles, as he frequently does during our conversation and in a tone that betrays the enthusiasm that helps propel his work across the world and over scientific boundaries to a wider public audience. Compagno had accepted a job in South Africa at what was then the JLB Smith Institute (now the South African Institute for Aquatic Biodiversity) in Grahamstown (now Makhanda). It was there that Dave would eventually find himself settling in for a PhD and where he’d go on to describe many of the region’s shark species. That’s how he detects my South African accent via our Skype call, its flattened vowels seldom correctly identified by any other international ear. ‘South Africa is like my second country after my home country,’ he jokes, but it seems fitting that someone who has built a career on paying attention to detail would hone in on the most accurate description of my particular origin.
While it was Aristotle who first devised the key concepts of taxonomy, grouping animals with similar features in his Historia Animalium published in 350 BCE, it was the Swedish botanist Carl Linnaeus who prescribed the system of binomial classification that underpins how we order and describe life on earth today. Over the centuries, physicians and scientists had devised many varied and fairly inconsistent ways of naming and describing species by the time Linnaeus published his Systema Naturae in 1735. This system explained kingdoms, classes, orders, genera and species and, although it has been modified over time, it still forms the basis of how we classify the natural world.
Undeniably old, the field of taxonomy and systematics is perceived in some quarters to be a dying art form, a sector that struggles to attract young graduates into its detailed, attentive fold. ‘Oh, that’s absolutely true,’ agrees Dave. ‘In general, across all taxa, it’s something of a waning sector. When it comes to shark taxonomy, most of the mentors and experts that I knew have now retired and nowadays only a handful of us are still active in the field.’
Part of the reason for this, he explains, lies in the difficulty of finding positions, support and funding. ‘Most of what I do is a labour of love; there’s very little support for it.’ Dave’s approach is pragmatic, bearing in mind the real-world conundrum that faces his students after he’s instilled a passion for discovering and naming sharks and equipped them with the requisite skills to describe species before they move into the job sector. ‘I train students here, but once they go out into the world, they need to get a job – as we all do – and there are no real positions for them in the field of taxonomy.’ So how does Dave manage to maintain his own enthusiasm for this field? ‘I’ve just been muddling along, I guess, managing to weave my taxonomic work in with other ecological projects so that I can merge funding opportunities and make all of it happen.’ His seemingly casual answer belies the more than 28 books he’s published and over 500 scientific articles he’s written. Clearly, the need for expertise in shark systematics has not declined over the centuries, even if the support and external enthusiasm for it have waned.
In theory, the prospect of finding new species and making sense of the world of sharks would seem highly attractive, both in terms of drawing new researchers into the field and in attracting funding. Who wouldn’t want to find something called a ninja lanternshark? Etmopterus benchleyi, described with Victoria Vásquez and Dr Douglas Long, was named in part to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the movie Jaws and in collaboration with schoolchildren (which gives some insight into why the common name is so instantly appealing). Why is it, then, that the exodus of experts isn’t being filled by a flood of new scientists clamouring to find their feet in this sector? ‘In many cases, a lot of attention is focused on several charismatic species that are undeniably spectacular. People tend to aim for what they like and much of that involves a few big, toothy characters.’ So what is it about Dave’s work that keeps a steady stream of students knocking on his lab door?
‘Most students come to my lab after their undergraduate degrees, admittedly interested in the charismatic species but keen to hone their skills and learn whatever they can about sharks. Often, it’s a side project that I’ve asked them to do that can teach them how to write, research, present and publish – but its subject tends to be a little-known or new species that offers them the opportunity to do something a bit differently and follow a new path into shark science. Suddenly there’s the option to have a type specimen placed in a museum or a new species described and published.’
Dave touches on something that many scientists probably feel, but aren’t always consciously communicating: the concept of effecting some kind of lasting change or leaving some legacy that is a bit bigger than themselves. ‘I have to say, the idea of naming a species that your great-grandchildren will know you found is an appealing thought to many. Publications in taxonomy seldom gain traction in journals with a high impact factor. That isn’t necessarily attractive to all academics, but it’s the kind of science that will ultimately persist for generations. It’s not a bad thought, to make some lasting impression on the field of shark science.’
It seems at times that the idea of scientific discovery has gone a little out of mode in our current climate. Certainly, Charles Darwin, Alfred Wallace and Alexander von Humboldt generated interest in their work and commanded conversations quite outside the scientific circle of their day. How did things go so out of fashion? ‘I grew up absolutely fascinated by the natural world and have remained so throughout my life. I think a lot of young kids start off with that same curiosity and enthusiasm, and the scientific community could do a lot to harness that natural attraction. From my own work, I’m aware of just how much excitement this field can generate, but it requires finding out ways to connect with an audience outside of the one we grow accustomed to speaking to once we’re inside the scientific community.’
Dave fends off the idea that he’s become particularly good at this challenge, but he does admit, ‘I try at least to be conscious of how I communicate. If I throw around some exclusive ecological jargon, people may well say “Wow! Dave’s really excited about his work, but I have no idea what he’s talking about.” So you lose your audience very quickly. I prefer to try to be fun about things, bearing in mind that most people don’t want to be preached to.’
Since more than 1,200 elasmobranchs have been described to date and since the habit of naming species goes back to Ancient Greece, it hardly seems feasible that there could be much more to learn about our oceans and their sharks. However, more than 240 shark species have been described in the past 15 years alone. It’s likely that most of us would be able to name only a handful, and that only because they are the ones that have captured our collective imagination on account of misconceptions about them or their misadventures on the silver screen.
‘I’ve used my “Lost Sharks” concept to garner public attention,’ says Dave. ‘It gets people excited about the idea and opens doors to talk about expeditions to discover all kinds of sharks.’ His work is a bid to bring to light those species that not only are unknown to the public at large, but remain little known to the scientific and conservation communities that are ultimately tasked with managing their populations. ‘The fun part is going out and looking for something new,’ he adds. ‘The second part of what I do is a bit more CSI, you know? That involves figuring out whether what you’ve found is really something new and different, and it’s a scientific process in and of itself. It’s definitely still a cool part of the job, particularly if you’re keen on discovery and understanding what’s really new.’
So what is the current state of shark taxonomy and where might the field be heading in the future? ‘I think the development of molecular tools has helped taxonomy, but there is a concern that the skills for the morphological description of a new species aren’t keeping pace with the interest in genetics. You need to marry the two to be more certain; you need to be able to identify why something is different.’ This, Dave believes, will ultimately mean that a combination of digital images will be used as a more lasting record over time: a description from what is called a type specimen that is housed in a museum and some degree of confirmation by means of genetic markers.
Regionally, he still thinks that most countries need to work on determining the status of their shark diversity. ‘You have to have a sense of what’s out there, but sharks aren’t often high enough on the list of commercial fishery priorities for many nations. There’s much that remains to be done, particularly in the Western Indian Ocean, where I’ve focused much of my career. So many species haven’t been confirmed in decades, but it’s difficult to even devise a plan to go look for them because there’s no support. How do you persuade someone to fund an expedition to go look for a species of shark you haven’t seen for years and years?’
Books keep Dave busy these days, with the second edition of Sharks of the World and Field Guide to Sharks, Rays and Chimaeras of Europe and the Mediterranean published just this year. A guide to ghostsharks is in production. ‘I enjoy taking the knowledge and experience I’ve accumulated and putting them in a format that allows others to go out and explore, and really get to know these sharks too,’ he comments. He hints with a wry laugh at redoing the field guide to southern African sharks. In the moment’s pause that follows we both reflect on the lifetime of work – several lifetimes, it feels – that exists if we are to get to grips with the lost sharks of all our oceans.
Taxonomy, it seems, is a sector of seasons; but wherever winter feels longest, spring will surely follow. It’s hard to imagine the search for sharks grinding to a halt after hearing Dave’s indefatigable enthusiasm. ‘People always ask me for my favourite find. What’s the coolest shark I’ve ever discovered? I have to say – and it’s the honest truth – that it’s the one I haven’t found yet.’ He chuckles again. ‘This is what always gives me a sort of Christmas Day feel’ – a nod to the sense of anticipation and excitement that hasn’t waned since he first crossed the Atlantic in search of sevengill sharks on the South African coastline. It’s this sense of discovery that has kept the field of taxonomy alive over centuries; its conservation imperative today surely marks a new season for rejuvenation, if only the passion of Dave and other scientists like him can help it find favour once more.
The shark-like rays are some of the most threatened species in the sea. In the Western Indian Ocean, Dave is untangling their taxonomy, getting to know where they live and investigating their fisheries status in order to inform better conservation strategies.