How-possibly explanations as genuine explanations and helpful heuristics: A comment on Forber

Recently, Forber introduced a distinction between two kinds of how-possibly explanation, global and local how-possibly explanation, and argued that both play genuinely explanatory roles in evolutionary biology. In this paper I examine the nature of these two kinds of how-possibly explanations, focusing on the question whether they indeed constitute genuine explanations. I will conclude that one of Forber's kinds of how-possibly explanation may be thought of as a kind of genuine explanation but not as a kind of how-possibly explanation, while the other kind plays a heuristic role and should not be conceived of as a kind of explanation at all.     

Confirmation and explaining how possible

Confirmation in evolutionary biology depends on what biologists take to be the genuine rivals. Investigating what constrains the scope of biological possibility provides part of the story: explaining how possible helps determine what counts as a genuine rival and thus informs confirmation. To clarify the criteria for genuine rivalry I distinguish between global and local constraints on biological possibility, and offer an account of how-possibly explanation. To sharpen the connection between confirmation and explaining how possible I discuss the view that formal inquiry can provide a kind of confirmation-theoretic support for evolutionary models, and offer an example of how-possibly explanation interacting with testing practice.     

Performing abstraction: two ways of modelling<Emphasis Type="Italic"> Arabidopsis thaliana</Emphasis>

What is the best way to analyse abstraction in scientific modelling? I propose to focus on abstracting as an epistemic activity, which is achieved in different ways and for different purposes depending on the actual circumstances of modelling and the features of the models in question. This is in contrast to a more conventional use of the term ‘abstract’ as an attribute of models, which I characterise as black-boxing the ways in which abstraction is performed and to which epistemological advantage. I exemplify my claims through a detailed reconstruction of the practices involved in creating two types of models of the flowering plant Arabidopsis thaliana, currently the best-known model organism in plant biology. This leads me to distinguish between two types of abstraction processes: the ‘material abstracting’ required in the production of Arabidopsis specimens and the ‘intellectual abstracting’ characterising the elaboration of visual models of Arabidopsis genomics. Reflecting on the differences between these types of abstracting helps to pin down the epistemic skills and research commitments used by researchers to produce each model, thus clarifying how models are handled by researchers and with which epistemological implications.     

Quelle scientificit�� pour la psychanalyse ?

From a strictly philosophical perspective, if one uses ??hard sciences?? as a standard to assess the scientificity of a theory, it will not be difficult to question the scientificity of psychoanalysis. But, rather than favouring such criticisms, I shall begin with the idea that different explanations may serve different explanatory goals while remaining valid, since to assess the validity of a theory, one must always consider the explanatory goals it has set. Hence, there is no such thing as an absolute, a historical and timeless criterion from which to judge the validity of a theoretical explanation. But the criteria and the epistemological constraints are normally relative to some set of explanatory goals. Therefore, the issue shifts towards the following question: what are the goals of psychoanalytic explanations and how (from which perspective) are we to judge the validity of its explanations according to the goals it aims at? I articulate together issues related to the object of psychoanalysis (what it theorises), to its explanatory goals (which dimension(s) of its object it seeks to explain) and to the epistemological constraints which are imposed on it. Which leads me to take into account the important role, in the psychoanalytic cure, of the rationalisation of pathological behaviours and of their reintegration into a story which ??makes sense??.     

Mechanisms,resources, and background conditions

Distinguishing mechanistic components from mere causally relevant background conditions remains a difficulty for mechanistic accounts of explanation. By distinguishing resources from mechanical parts, I argue that we can more effectively draw this boundary. Further, the distinction makes obvious that there are distinctive resource explanations which are not captured by a traditional part-based mechanistic account. While this suggests a straightforward extension of the mechanistic model, I argue that incorporating resources and resource explanations requires moving beyond the purely local account of levels that some mechanists advocate.     

Discussion: Reply to Hitchcock

Christopher Hitchcocks discussion of my use of screening-off in analyzing the causal process of natural selection raises some interesting issues to which I am pleased to reply. The bulk of his article is devoted to some fairly general points in the theory of explanation. In particular, he questions whether or not my point that phenotype screens off genotype from reproductive success (in cases of organismic selection) supports my claim that the explanation of differential reproductive success should be in terms of phenotypic differences, not genotypic differences. I will respond to this and show why the two supposed counter-examples to my position fail.     

Quasi-independence, fitness, and advantageousness

I argue that the idea of ‘quasi-independence’ [Lewontin, R. C. (1978). Adaptation. Scientific American, 239(3), 212–230] cannot be understood without attending to the distinction between fitness and advantageousness [Sober, E. (1993). Philosophy of biology. Boulder: Westview Press]. Natural selection increases the frequency of fitter traits, not necessarily of advantageous ones. A positive correlation between an advantageous trait and a disadvantageous one may prevent the advantageous trait from evolving. The quasi-independence criterion is aimed at specifying the conditions under which advantageous traits will evolve by natural selection in this type of situation. Contrary to what others have argued [Sterelny, K. (1992). Evolutionary explanations of human behavior. Australian Journal of Philosophy, 70(2), 156–172, and Sterelny, K., &; Griffiths, P. (1999). Sex and death. Chicago: University of Chicago Press], these conditions must involve a precise quantitative measure of (a) the extent to which advantageous traits are beneficial, and (b) the degree to which they are correlated with other traits. Driscoll (2004) [Driscoll, C. (2004). Can behaviors be adaptations? Philosophy of Science, 71, 16–35] recognizes the need for such a measure, but I argue that she does not provide the correct formulation. The account of quasi-independence that I offer clarifies this point.     

Do we need a ‘theory’ of development?

Edited by Alessandro Minelli and Thomas Pradeu, Towards a Theory of Development gathers essays by biologists and philosophers, which display a diversity of theoretical perspectives. The discussions not only cover the state of art, but broaden our vision of what development includes and provide pointers for future research. Interestingly, all contributors agree that explanations should not just be gene-centered, and virtually none use design and other engineering metaphors to articulate principles of cellular and organismal organization. I comment in particular on the issue of how to construe the notion of a ‘theory’ and whether developmental biology has or should aspire to have theories, which four of the contributions discuss in detail while taking opposing positions. Beyond construing a theory in terms of its empirical content (established knowledge about biological phenomena), my aim is to shift the focus toward the role that theories have for guiding future scientific theorizing and practice. Such a conception of ‘theory’ is particularly important in the context of development, because arriving at a theoretical framework that provides guidance for the discipline of developmental biology as a whole is more plausible than a unified representation of development across all taxa.     

Genetic diversity and classification of Oryza sativa with emphasis on Chinese rice germplasm

Despite extensive studies on cultivated rice, the genetic structure and subdivision of this crop remain unclear at both global and local scales. Using 84 nuclear simple sequence repeat markers, we genotyped a panel of 153 global rice cultivars covering all previously recognized groups and 826 cultivars representing the diversity of Chinese rice germplasm. On the basis of model-based grouping, neighbour-joining tree and principal coordinate analysis, we confirmed the widely accepted five major groups of rice cultivars (indica, aus, aromatic, temperate japonica and tropical japonica), and demonstrated that rayada rice was unique in genealogy and should be treated as a new (the sixth) major group of rice germplasm. With reference to the global classification of rice cultivars, we identified three major groups (indica, temperate japonica and tropical japonica) in Chinese rice germplasm and showed that Chinese temperate japonica contained higher diversity than that of global samples, whereas Chinese indica and tropical japonica maintained slightly lower diversity than that present in the global samples. Particularly, we observed that all seasonal, drought-tolerant and endosperm types occurred within each of three major groups of Chinese cultivars, which does not support previous claims that seasonal differentiation exists in Indica and drought-tolerant differentiation is present in Japonica. It is most likely that differentiation of cultivar types arose multiple times stemming from artificial selection for adaptation to local environments.     

Letting the Air Out: <Emphasis Type="Italic">Aire</Emphasis> as an Empty Signifier in Oaxacan Understandings of Illness

“Air (aire, also aigre) in the body” is a frequent explanation of illness according to the traditional medical beliefs in Mexico. Anthropologists have generally scrutinized aire in the context of other common folk illnesses treated by traditional healers (curanderas). However, drawing on my research in the communities of Northern Oaxaca I suggest that aire occupies a more distinct position in the folk medical cosmology than it has usually been credited with. This distinction rests on the notion’s exceptional ambivalence and openness to multiple interpretations. “Air” is recurred to as the cause of illness mainly in situations where every other explanation, either “traditional” or “biomedical,” seems to be inadequate. The physical properties of air—its transparency, invisibility, apparent immateriality, near omnipresence, and virtual “nothingness”—render it a suitable explanation of the last resort. Local understandings of what aire “is” are often vague and elusive, and in many respects the term functions in folk medical discourse as an “empty signifier.”     

Climate-Induced Range Shifts and Possible Hybridisation Consequences in Insects

Many ectotherms have altered their geographic ranges in response to rising global temperatures. Current range shifts will likely increase the sympatry and hybridisation between recently diverged species. Here we predict future sympatric distributions and risk of hybridisation in seven Mediterranean ischnurid damselfly species (I. elegans, I. fountaineae, I. genei, I. graellsii, I. pumilio, I. saharensis and I. senegalensis). We used a maximum entropy modelling technique to predict future potential distribution under four different Global Circulation Models and a realistic emissions scenario of climate change. We carried out a comprehensive data compilation of reproductive isolation (habitat, temporal, sexual, mechanical and gametic) between the seven studied species. Combining the potential distribution and data of reproductive isolation at different instances (habitat, temporal, sexual, mechanical and gametic), we infer the risk of hybridisation in these insects. Our findings showed that all but I. graellsii will decrease in distributional extent and all species except I. senegalensis are predicted to have northern range shifts. Models of potential distribution predicted an increase of the likely overlapping ranges for 12 species combinations, out of a total of 42 combinations, 10 of which currently overlap. Moreover, the lack of complete reproductive isolation and the patterns of hybridisation detected between closely related ischnurids, could lead to local extinctions of native species if the hybrids or the introgressed colonising species become more successful.     

Teaching global bioethics

We live in a world with enormous disparities in health. The life expectancy in Japan is 80 years; in Malawi, 40 years. The under-five mortality in Norway is 4/1000; in Sierra Leone, 316/1000. The situation is actually worse than these figures suggest because average rates tend to mask inequalities within a country. Several presidents of the IAB have urged bioethicists to attend to global disparities and to broaden the scope of bioethics. For the last six years I have tried to do just that. In this paper, I report and reflect on my attempts to teach bioethics in ways that address global health and justice. I then discuss ways to address key ethical issues in global health: the problem of inequalities; the nature of the duty to assist; the importance of the duty not to harm; the difference between a cosmopolitan and a political view of justice. I also discuss how teaching about global health may help to shift the emphasis in bioethics--from sensational cases to everyday matters, from autonomy and justice, and from access to healthcare to the social determinants of health. At the end of my paper, I reflect on questions that I have not resolved: how to delineate the scope of bioethics, whether my approach over-politicises bioethics, and how to understand the responsibilities of bioethicists.     

Explanatory unification and natural selection explanations

The debate between the dynamical and the statistical interpretations of natural selection is centred on the question of whether all explanations that employ the concepts of natural selection and drift are reducible to causal explanations. The proponents of the statistical interpretation answer negatively, but insist on the fact that selection/drift arguments are explanatory. However, they remain unclear on where the explanatory power comes from. The proponents of the dynamical interpretation answer positively and try to reduce selection/drift arguments to some of the most prominent accounts of causal explanation. In turn, they face the criticism raised by statisticalists that current accounts of causation have to be violated in some of their core conditions or otherwise used in a very loose manner in order to account for selection/drift explanations. We propose a reconciliation of both interpretations by conveying evolutionary explanations within the unificationist model of scientific explanation. Therefore, we argue that the explanatory power in natural selection arguments is a result of successful unification of individual- and population-level facts. A short case study based on research on sympatric speciation will be presented as an example of how population- and individual-level facts are unified to explain the morphological mosaic of bill shape in island scrub jays (Aphelocoma insularis).     

Rethinking the role of theory in exploratory experimentation

To explain their role in discovery and contrast them with theory-driven research, philosophers of science have characterized exploratory experiments in terms of what they lack: namely, that they lack direction from what have been called “local theories” of the target system or object under investigation. I argue that this is incorrect: it’s not whether or not there is direction from a local theory that matters, but instead how such a theory is used to direct an experiment that matters. Appealing to contemporary exploratory experiments that involve the use of experimental techniques—specifically, examples where scientists explore the interaction of neural activity and human behavior by magnetically stimulating brains—I argue that local theories of a target system can inform auxiliary hypotheses in exploratory experiments, which direct these experiments. These examples illustrate how local theories can direct the exploration of target systems where researchers do not aim to evaluate these theories.     

Ethnoprimatology without Conservation: The Political Ecology of Farmer–Green Monkey (<Emphasis Type="Italic">Chlorocebus sabaeus</Emphasis>) Relations in St. Kitts,West Indies

The driving force behind the mixed-methods ethnoprimatological endeavor is to effectively conserve nonhuman primates. In this article, I argue that ethnoprimatological research can meet this goal only by discarding the purely science views of conservation that dominate the current literature. By considering more than local ecological perceptions, their ideological agendas, and their levels of power via a political ecology framework, ethnoprimatologists can simultaneously socialize the ecosystems we study and contribute our ethological skills to advance traditionally humanist disciplines’ increased attention to a wider field of agents and structures that matter. I support these arguments through an examination of farmer–green monkey (Chlorocebus sabaeus) relations in St. Kitts. Kittitian farmers’ narrative revealed three scales that collectively construct what is locally known as “the monkey problem:” increased rates of local contact between farmers and monkeys on farms, contestations over the future of St. Kitts’ land, and global debates over appropriate strategies to manage the monkey population. I show that although “the monkey problem” in St. Kitts does not involve an endangered or threatened species, my analysis of this construct has implications for primate populations that are threatened. This is because the root cause of this “problem”—the globalized discourse of nature conservation overpowering and problematizing local views about people–animal interactions—characterizes so many of the locales home to primates of conservation concern.     

Water loss and gas exchange by eggs of Manduca sexta: Trading off costs and benefits

Like all terrestrial organisms, insect eggs face a tradeoff between exchanging metabolic gases (O₂ and CO₂) and conserving water. Here I summarize the physiology underlying this tradeoff and the ecological contexts in which it may be important. The ideas are illustrated primarily by work from my laboratory on eggs of the sphingid moth Manduca sexta. In particular, I discuss: (1) dynamic changes in metabolic demand and water loss during development; and (2) how the eggshell layers and embryonic tracheal system control the traffic of gases between the embryo and its environment. Subsequently, I identify three areas with interesting but unresolved issues: (1) what eggs actually experience in their microclimates, focusing particularly on the leaf microclimates relevant to eggs of M. sexta; (2) how egg experience influences whether or not hatchling larvae succeed in establishing feeding sites on host plants; and (3) whether Hetz and Bradley's [Hetz, S.K., Bradley, T.J., 2005. Insects breathe discontinuously to avoid oxygen toxicity. Nature 433, 516−519] oxygen toxicity hypothesis for discontinuous gas-exchange cycles applies to insect eggs.     

A year since George Floyd

The murder of George Floyd sparked an awakening, long overdue, which reverberated throughout society. As science begins to acknowledge its role in perpetuating systematic racism, the voices of Black scientists, which have largely been absent, are now being called on. As we rightly begin to make space for diverse voices and perspectives in science, we all must think about what it is we are asking minoritized individuals to do.

It has been roughly 1 year since the murder of George Floyd, an unarmed Black man, who was killed over an alleged counterfeit 20 dollar bill in Minneapolis, Minnesota (Hill et al. 2020; Kaul, 2020; Levenson, 2021). In many ways, his murder was no different than the murders of thousands of other murders of Black people in this country (Thompson, 2020; Lett et al., 2021; Tate et al., 2021). However, what distinguishes George Floyd’s murder from many other high profile cases is that it was unambiguously captured on video (Alexander, 1994), an act of bravery by Darnella Frazier, a 17-year-old Black woman (Izadi, 2021), at a time when the world was mostly housebound by a raging global pandemic. As a result, his murder reverberated through society in a way that has not happened in my lifetime. While there have been other high profile cases of murders carried out by police (Treyvon Martin, Walter Scott, Breonna Taylor, and Philando Castile, among many others), these cases failed to fully sustain the attention of a national and international audience (Chan et al., 2020; Chughtai, 2021). The murder of George Floyd was fundamentally different, and for once, more than just Black people were paying attention. His murder sparked protests across the nation led by the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement (Day, 2015; Taylor, 2016; Banks, 2018; Taylor, 2021), and the demands for change were so loud people could not help but hear.As a Black, gay man who is also a scientist, I was thrown into despair. All of my life I have thought if I just worked hard enough, if I am kind and unthreatening, if I play the game and keep my head down, maybe I can make it in academia. Maybe then I will be seen and accepted, not just by society, but by the scientific community. George Floyd’s murder reminded me, and many of my Black colleagues, that our degrees can’t protect us, that our privileged middle-class upbringing (if we had one) was not a shield. Our lives were not worth more than a counterfeit 20 dollar bill.Science, which has always been a product of society, was not impervious to these reverberations. By late June my inbox began to slowly fill with invitations to speak at several institutions for their seminar series, retreats, or special symposia. It felt as if the scientific community, for the first time, realized that there were Black scientists among them. In the throes of my own despair, and the feeling that I needed to be doing something for my community, I began to say “yes.” I was not going to participate in the nightly protests that occurred in my newly adopted hometown of Portland, Oregon. Aside from fearing I could be next to lose my life at the hands of the police (Edwards et al., 2019), these protests were happening in the backdrop of a global pandemic. I came to the conclusion that by accepting these invitations to speak, this could be my activism, my way of sparking change, increasing visibility, and being seen not only for my own sake but also for other Black scientists.Before I write anything else, I want to be clear: I am extremely thankful to all the institutions and organizations that invited me and gave me a platform. I am extremely proud of my students’ work and of the research we produce. I am sharing my experiences with the hope that they can be instructive to the greater scientific community, but if I am being frank, there is a bit of anger.I received over 15 invitations and gave an additional three or four interviews over the course of the year. Most of these came with the expectation that I would also talk about my work in Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion. But here’s the lowdown: prior to this year, I did not view myself as someone who did Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion work. I am co-chair of the LGBTQ+ committee of the American Society of Cell Biology and a member of the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion committee of the Genetics Society of America. I volunteer for both of these committees because they speak to something I care deeply about, the advocacy for minoritized ¹ scientists. I also embody both of these axes of diversity; so, in some way, I am only looking out for myself. This is far from being a scholar or doing “Diversity work.” I fully recognize that there are individuals who have dedicated their lives to this type of work with entire academic fields populated with accomplished scholars. So, I started this year of talks being invited because I am a Black, gay scientist at a time when science was grappling with its own systematic racism, under the guise of my nonexistent Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion work.What has this year actually taught me? The first thing it taught me is that I have been missing out. Prior to George Floyd’s murder, I had only received three seminar invitations from major research institutions and unfortunately all within a year of being posttenure. That is after nearly 6 years in my current position.In giving these talks I got the opportunity to meet with some of the giants in my field, people I have looked up to for years. I received reagents, offers to collaborate, and a litany of great ideas that will help drive my research program for years to come. I left some of these meetings truly inspired and excited to start experiments. These opportunities would have been invaluable to me, pretenure. One could argue, I did not need it. I made it even without this networking and the advantages these visits bring. Before you applaud my ability to persist and be resilient, we should take a deep look at the systems that have forced people who look like me to be doubly resilient. If George Floyd had not been murdered, would any of these invitations have happened? If the previous 6 years are any indication of a trend, I would have to say most certainly not. Why did it take a murder and the reignition of a Civil Rights movement for me to have the type of interactions I now know many of my straight, white counterparts have had from the very beginning of their independent careers? Let me be clear: this is a form of systematic racism, plain and simple.As I began to make the rounds, I was often asked to either share a bit of my journey or include my Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion work in my talks. This sometimes came at the expense of sharing my lab’s work. While I was very happy to do so, this was very much implicit in the invitations I received. At times it did feel that my inclusion was only checking a box, placating the graduate students so that they could see that their department or institution was responding to their demands. This also had the consequence of making me feel as though my science was merely performative. I was being invited to do the Diversity work institutions did not want to do. This is the tension I, and many other minoritized scientists, face. I want to share my experiences with the hopes that the next generation will have it better; but, my scholarly work is not in Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion. I fully recognize that it is my embodied diversity that is bringing me to the table; but, it is the science I want to share.On the first invitation to give a seminar, I promised myself that I was going to be honest. This meant that I would tell the truth about my experience and bare my soul over and over again. What I had not counted on was the emotional toll this would take on me. Reliving my own trauma, on a regular basis, left me emotionally drained after these visits. In one of my “stops” (I use quotes here because these “visits” were all virtual), I met with the queer, person of color (POC), graduate students. This session quickly turned into an emotional support group where I heard stories of mistreatment, racism, and discrimination. It was nearly impossible to maintain my composure. Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion work is clearly extremely important, but, maybe, we could just start by listening to the needs of the students and having a bit of humanity.The trial of Derek Chauvin has come and passed, and much to my surprise, and to the surprise of many other Black people nationwide, he was found guilty and was sentenced to prison (Arango, 2021; Cooper and Fiegel, 2021). This, of course, is not justice, not even close. Justice would mean that George Floyd is still alive and would get to live out his life in the way he chose. We are also at the beginning of the end of the pandemic. In 6 months or less, we may all be returning to life, more or less, as it was before George Floyd, before COVID-19. Does this mean we stop fighting? Does this mean that I, and many other Black scientists, suddenly disappear? For George Floyd, for countless other faceless Black people before him, I sincerely hope not. We need to continue to give Black scientists a platform. We need to ensure that they, too, are given the opportunity to network, collaborate, and interact with the larger scientific community. This means the invitations cannot stop. To further this, we need to ensure that Black scientists are included in every grant review panel, are included on speaker lists at every national and international meeting, are funded, and are in the room where funding, tenure, and other critical decisions are being made. We need to recognize that systematic racism has not gone away with Derek Chauvin’s conviction and sentencing. We need to continue to push forward. And, for all of you young, minoritized scientists (and allies) reading this, demand change and do not take "no" for an answer. I am truly sorry this has fallen on your shoulders, but enough is enough. The next generation of minoritized scientists should be recognized for their science without the additional burden of creating their own space.About the AuthorI am currently an Associate Professor of Biology at Reed College (https://www.reed.edu/biology/applewhite/index.html), which is located in Portland, Oregon. I arrived at Reed in 2014; prior to that, I was a postdoctoral fellow at the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill. I received my PhD from Northwestern University in Cellular and Molecular Biology and a BS in Biology from the University of Michigan where I was also a 4-year letter winner in track and field. My research focuses on the cytoskeleton where I study cell motility and morphogenesis using Drosophila and Drosophila derived in tissue culture cells to explore actin, microtubules, and molecular motors. My current lab is composed of fierce, determined undergraduate students. I am a member of the American Society of Cell Biology (ASCB) and the current chair of the LGBTQ+ Committee (https://www.ascb.org/committee/lgbtq/). I am also a member of the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Committee for the Genetics Society of America (https://genetics-gsa.org/committees/). I also serve as an editor for MBoC’s Voices series.