Columnists
The 330-million-year-old octopus
Researchers at the Royal Ontario Museum have come up trumps. A piece of limestone rock from Montana that was donated to the Museum back in 1988 has recently been found to contain a fossil that is an estimated 330 million years old. That predates the era of the dinosaurs and eclipses the previous best estimate of the fossilized species’ age by some 90 million years, forcing a recalibration of some significant assumptions about species’ longevity.
The fossil is a rarely found “soft tissue” specimen. Too bad it sat in a drawer for 30 or so years while other sexier fossils—like shark ancestors—got analyzed first.
What species of fossil is it? It’s an ancient ancestor of the octopus and the vampire squid. Classified as a vampyropod, it has 10 limbs instead of the octopus’ eight and is only 12 centimetres long, but like the octopus has an ink sac and limbs lined with two rows of suckers.
The correct scientific name for the species is Syllipsimopodi bideni. The second word in the name looks a little familiar, doesn’t it? That’s right; it’s Joe Biden, latinized. The scientists who named the species after Mr. Biden said they wanted to honour his commitment to scientific research Whether Mr. Biden was flushed with pride about have an octopus bear his name has not been determined; he may be preoccupied with other issues for the time being. But heck, there surely aren’t that many near lions and tigers roaming around waiting to be discovered just by hopping on a plane and going on safari, Chances are the new species will be micro-organisms, inhabitants of hard to reach areas such as the Amazon jungle or the Antarctic Ocean—or fossilized extinct creatures. Beggars for scientific name fame can’t be species choosers.
Mr. Biden should relax, for two reasons. One, the octopus has come in for some good press in recent years. A 2020 documentary, My Octopus Teacher, told the story of the human-like friendship developed between a swimmer and an octopus, and won the Academy Award as best documentary feature.
Two, he is in good company. Barack Obama had three species named after him: a parasitic worm (Paragordius obamai), an extinct lizard (Obamadon gracilis) and a blood fluke found in turtles (Baracktrema obamai). Entertainers have had their share as well. Beyonce has a horsefly (Scaptia beyonceae), Sting has a frog (Hyla stingi), and even Frank Zappa gets into the club with a spider (Pachygnatha zappa). So Mr. Biden has actually done quite well for himself with his octopus ancestor naming association.
But why go to the fuss and bother of choosing someone famous to name your species after: if you discovered it, why not name if after yourself? Unfortunately the International Code of Zoological Nomenclature states that if you discovered it, you can’t put your name to it. You could put your closest rival’s name on it—just as a constant irritating reminder to them that you found the species, not them. But not your own name.
And you don’t have to choose a celebrity. One scientist at the University of Connecticut found 200 new species of shark tapeworm. She named some of them for her old lab partner and the fishers who had helped her locate study subjects. One species naming opportunity was auctioned off by that university for $3,000. Who knows what the Biden octopus ancestor would have fetched had the name gone up for auction. Or how much money Donald Trump’s attorney would have been prepared to put up to ensure his master’s name was never associated with a sea slug.
The Royal Ontario Museum stands poised to make a substantial return on its status as owner of the vampyropod. I can see the T-shirts now “I’m 330 million. How old are you?” “Before there were dinosaurs, there was me.” “Ten legs, twenty rows of suckers and an ink sac—what’s not to like about me?”
I just hope the octopus ancestor’s newfound fame does not lead to a resurgence of the old Ringo Starr song Octopus’s Garden. Better to keep that one in the drawer for the next 30 years—or better still, the next 330 million years. Loved his cowbell on A Hard Day’s Night, though.
Comments (0)