and microorganisms that compose the thin layer of Earth called the biosphere. Although most of the flowering plants, birds, and mammals have been found, described, and given a scientific name, the great majority of species in other groups of organisms still remained to be discovered. Biologists and naturalists, both professional and amateur, who set out to find species and map the biosphere, have remained as among Earth’s true explorers.
At the dinner in 2009 on which biodiversity was officially added to the worthy unknown, I had the extraordinary experience of giving the main address. There was much to be excited about that evening, but the memory that first comes to my mind was meeting the son of Tenzing Norgay, who in 1951, with Edmund Hillary, first summited Mount Everest. I reminded him that upon his return from the mountain, when a journalist had asked Tenzing Norgay, “How does it feel to be a great man?” he responded, “It is Everest that makes men great.” To which I may add, to young biologists in particular who dream of combining science with physical adventure, it is the biosphere that offers you opportunities of epic proportion.
On Monday, July 3, 2006, the Explorers Club conducted its first “expedition” to explore biodiversity. It joined the American Museum of Natural History and other local nature-oriented organizations to conduct a bioblitz in New York City’s Central Park. Bioblitzes are events in which experts on every kind of organism, from bacteria to birds, gather to find and identify as many species as possible during a stated short period of time, usually twenty-four hours. The aim on that day was to introduce the public to the concept that even a much-tramped-over urban area teems with the diversity of life. At the end of the day, the 350 registered volunteers had tallied—and mind you, this was in New York City—836 species, including 393 plants and 101 animals, the latter including 78 moths, 9 dragonflies, 7 mammals, 3 turtles, 2 frogs, and 2 microscopic, caterpillar-like tardigrades, the last enigmatic and seldom studied anywhere in the world. The tardigrades were the first ever reported from Central Park. One of the frogs was later determined to be a species new to science and found only in and around New York City.
On Tuesday, July 8, 2003, for the first time during any bioblitz, samples of soil and water were collected for later analysis of bacteria and other microorganisms, the most abundant and diverse of all forms of life. There was even physical adventure of a sort. Sylvia Earle, a leading marine biologist renowned for her dives in oceans around the world, offered to explore the murky slime-filled waters of the small lake next to the Bethesda Fountain, in order to add aquatic creatures to our list. “While I have had no concern,” she observed, “about diving with sharks and killer whales or other creatures in the ocean, I did have reason to be mighty fearful of the microbes in the green pond in Central Park.” She and others brave enough to dive with her produced a substantial list of species. There was one uncertain identification. “I found a snail floating by,” Earle reported. “But I’m not sure if it was a resident or if it was introduced by the nearby restaurant as an escargot.”
Very few places remain on Earth that are not seething with species of plants, animals, or microorganisms. At this time, for all intents and purposes the biological diversity seems almost infinite; and each living species in turn offers scientists boundless opportunities for important original research.
Consider a rotting tree stump in a forest. You and I casually walking past it on a trail would not give it more than a passing glance. But wait a moment. Walk around the stump slowly, look at it closely—as a fellow scientist. Before you, in miniature, is the equivalent of an unexplored planet. What you can learn from the decaying mass depends on your training and the science you
Alexis Abbott, Alex Abbott