A Master of Disguise (A Guest Post)

By Jake Klemm

Cephalopods are among the most intelligent of marine life. Their highly advanced nervous systems allow them to exhibit a complex array of behaviors (for example, camouflage). Within this array is a rather unique behavior observed in the cuttlefish Sepia pharaonis. These elegant beings are now known to… intensely flap their arms? These animals are truly graceful.

A lovely photo of S. pharaonis. Image by Silke Baron at Wikimedia Commons.

Researchers Kohei Okamoto, Haruhiko Yasumuro, Akira Mori, and Yuzuru Ikeda of the University of the Ryukyus in Okinawa, Japan observed this behavior on two separate occasions while studying S. pharaonis. The scientists had initially collected these cuttlefish with the intention of conducting other experiments but noticed this behavior while the cuttlefish were introduced to a large water-filled tank and while hunting prey. After noticing this wild arm-flapping behavior, the researchers turned their attention towards why the behavior was being displayed.

The researchers first observed this behavior in December of 2011. The cuttlefish were placed in a large, circular tank for conducting other experiments when a couple of them were observed to flap their arms. After the initial experiments were finished, a few of the cuttlefish were placed in the same sized tank and observations were recorded with a video camera over a period of five days. This behavior was revisited in 2013 for further observation. The cuttlefish they used were reared from eggs found in the same coastal waters of Okinawajima Island as the cuttlefish that were part of the 2011 experiments. Again, cuttlefish were placed in a large tank to observe the behavior with a video camera. The researchers counted each occurrence of the behavior and recorded the duration of each behavior. After observations were complete, the researchers performed experiments to observe the hunting ability of S. pharaonis. This arm-flapping behavior was observed unexpectedly while the cuttlefish hunted prey. The means of recording the behavior were the same as described above. In addition, the researchers recorded the number of prey caught between cuttlefish that did and did not display the behavior.

The researchers noticed variation in the frequency and duration of this behavior in the presence and absence of prey. When placed in a tank without prey, only a small number of cuttlefishes displayed this behavior. Of the cuttlefish that did flap their arms, the behavior lasted (on average) no longer than 37 seconds. However, the cuttlefish that were placed in a tank with prey, the behavior was displayed for at significantly longer period of time. In addition to that, more cuttlefish overall were seen flapping their arms in this second experiment. The cuttlefish that flapped their arms caught a significantly larger number of fish than the ones that did not flap their arms, despite being observed in the same tank and having access to the same number of prey animals. This observation led the researchers to believe that something about this unique behavior is helping the cuttlefish capture more prey.

A front view of a cuttlefish. Image by Stickpen at Wikimedia Commons.

The resemblance is uncanny! Image by Maximilian Paradiz at Wikimedia Commons.

What could this all mean? The researchers think that the cuttlefish may be mimicking another organism, specifically the hermit crab, to confuse the prey fish into thinking that they are another harmless animal. It is thought that the head of the cuttlefish resembles the shell of the hermit crab while the arms resemble the eyes and legs of the hermit crab. Posing as a harmless crab would allow the cuttlefish to get behind enemy lines and ultimately catch more prey. Further research will have to be done in lab as well as the field to see if this behavior is really that of mimicry. Other cephalopods are notorious for mimicking other animals, so it is not out of the realm of possibility. Studying this behavior would allow scientists to difurtveher into the evolutionary history of S. pharaonis. Until then, the graceful limb-flailing will remain an ever-tantalizing mystery.


References

Okamoto, K., Yasumuro, H., Mori, A., & Ikeda, Y., (2017). Unique arm-flapping behavior of the pharaoh cuttlefish, Sepia pharaonic: putative mimicry of a hermit crab. Journal of Ethology, 35(3), 307-311. DOI: 10.1007/s10164-017-0519-7

Nature's Halloween Costumes

A repost of an original article from October 23, 2013.

Image by Steve at Wikimedia Commons.

It seems like everyone is racking their brains to come up with a great Halloween costume. But we’re not the only ones to disguise ourselves as something we’re not. Many animals put on costumes just like we do. Take this gharial crocodile for example (do you see him?), covering himself in parts of his environment to hide.

Other animals, like this tawny frogmouth below, develop physical appearances that help them blend in with their surroundings. When threatened, these birds shut their eyes, erect their feathers and point their beak in such a way to match the color and texture of the tree bark.


Image by C Coverdale at Wikimedia Commons.

Rather than hide, some animals have a physical appearance to disguise themselves as other species that are often fierce, toxic or venomous. This type of mimicry is called Batesian mimicry, named after Henry Walter Bates, the English naturalist who studied butterflies in the Amazon and gave the first scientific description of animal mimicry. This plate from Bates’ 1862 paper, Contributions to an Insect Fauna of the Amazon Valley: Heliconiidae, illustrates Batesian mimicry between various toxic butterfly species (in the second and bottom rows) and their harmless mimics (in the top and third rows).


This plate from Bates’ 1862 paper, Contributions to an Insect Fauna of
the Amazon Valley: Heliconiidae is available on Wikipedia Commons.

The bluestriped fangblenny takes its costume another step further, by changing its shape, colors, and behavior to match the company. This fish changes its colors to match other innocuous fish species that are around so it can sneak up and bite unsuspecting larger fish that would otherwise bite them back! Learn more about them here.

The fish on the far left is a juvenile cleaner wrasse in the act of cleaning another fish. The two fish in
the middle and on the right are both bluestriped fangblennies, one in its cleaner wrasse-mimicking
coloration (middle) and the other not (right). Figure from the Cheney, 2013 article in Behavioral Ecology.

But the Master of Disguise title has got to go to the mimic octopus. This animal can change its color, shape and behavior to look and behave like a wide range of creatures, including an innocuous flounder, a poisonous lionfish, or even a dangerous sea snake! Check it out in action:

The Weirdest Animals on Earth: 12 Amazing Facts About Octopuses



Photo of a day octopus by
Ahmed Abdul Rahman available
at Wikimedia Commons.

1. The plural of octopus is octopuses. How an English word is pluralized depends, in part, on its origins. Latin words that end in –us are generally pluralized by replacing the –us with an –i (the plural of alumnus, for example, is alumni). But octopus is not Latin – It comes from the ancient Greek word októpous, whose plural is októpodes. Although octopodes is technically correct, since it has been adopted into the English language, the word is now pluralized in the English way, making it octopuses. So octopi is commonly used but not technically correct, octopodes is technically correct but not commonly used and octopussies is just plain wrong.

2. Octopuses are mollusks. This means that they are not only closely related to squid and cuttlefish, but also to clams, oysters, snails and slugs.

3. Octopuses are crazy-smart. They can solve problems, learn from watching others, use tools, and remember experiences. They even have personalities and play with toys. Check this out:

4. Octopuses have nine brains! Rather than a large centralized brain like ours, octopus brains are more like the internet. Their main CPU is a fairly small brain in their head, but each of their eight arms has an additional brain of its own. In fact, two-thirds of an octopus’ neurons are in the arms, which can independently attach to things, push things, and even smell things. They can even react after they have been severed! Not only that, but their severed arms recognize their previous owner:

5. If an octopus loses an arm, it can grow back. Those crazy arms are like the brooms in Disney's Sorcerer's Apprentice in Fantasia!

6. Octopuses are amazing camouflage artists. Their soft bodies can squeeze into ridiculously small cracks and crevices and take on any number of shapes. A 50-pound octopus, for example, can squeeze through a 2-inch hole! They can also change the color and texture of their skin to match their background.

The mimic octopus, the ultimate master of disguise, doesn’t just imitate their background, but also flounders, starfish, poisonous lionfish, and sea snakes.



A vertebrate eye (left) versus an octopus eye (right).
1: Retina, 2: Nerve fibers, 3: Optic nerve, 4: Blind spot.
Image by Jerry Crimson Mann at Wikimedia.

7. Octopuses don’t have visual blind-spots. Most animal eyes detect light patterns when light travels to the retina (the layer in the back of the eye) and falls on photoreceptor cells, causing the cells to send electrical signals through the optic nerve to the brain. Vertebrate photoreceptor cells face backwards, so their nerve fibers come in front of the retina and then exit the eye together through the optic nerve, creating a small region in the back of the eye with no photoreceptor cells. If light falls on this spot, we literally will not see it, although our brain will compensate for this missing light by imagining what should be there based on the rest of what we see. We call this our blind spot. You can test your blind spot by closing your left eye and focusing your right eye on the “R” below. Move your face towards or away from the screen until the “L” disappears. You can test your left eye by staring at the “L” in the same way.

In octopus eyes, the photoreceptor cells face forwards and the nerve fibers go behind the retina. This means that they have a continuous layer of photoreceptor cells and no blind spot.

8. Octopuses are more blue blooded than police officers. Their blood is truly blue, due to the fact that they don’t have hemoglobin, our respiratory pigment that contains iron and turns red when it binds to oxygen. Rather, they have hemocyanin, which contains copper and turns blue when oxygen binds to it.

9. Octopuses have three hearts! They have two small hearts that each pump blood through the gills and a main systemic heart that collects the blood and pumps it through the circulatory system.

10. Octopus ink is a defensive chemical concoction. It not only obscures the view of an attacker, but it also contains a chemical that irritates the predator’s eyes and temporarily paralyzes its sense of smell.

11. Octopuses bite with a bird-like beak and venomous saliva, which is mostly used to subdue prey. Of the approximately 300 octopus species, only the small blue-ringed octopus is known to be deadly to humans.

12. Octopuses die after they mate for the first time. And they mate in an odd way too: males use the tip of their third arm on the right to either insert their spermatophores (sperm packets) directly into the female’s tubular breathing funnel or he just hands it to her (The tip of the third right arm can be used to tell if an octopus is male or female). If he hands it to her, she accepts it with one of her right arms (we don’t know why they’re right-handed this way). Then the males go off to die. The females eventually lay up to 400,000 fertilized eggs, although they can wait months before they do this. She tends them and guards them at the exclusion of all else until they hatch, at which point her body rapidly deteriorates as her cells die off.

The Mimic Octopus: Master of Disguise

The disguises of the mimic octopus: (a) shows a mimic
octopus looking out of its burrow; (b) is a foraging mimic
octopus with coloration to blend with the sand; (c) shows
a mimic octopus as a sole fish and (d) is an actual
sole fish; (e) shows a mimic octopus as a lion-fish and
(f) is an actual lion-fish; and (g) shows a mimic octopus
as a banded sea-snake and (h) is an actual banded
sea-snake. Images from the Norman, 2001 article
 in Proc. R. Soc. Lond. B.

Different animal species have evolved a number of ways to hide in their environments. One of the most popular tactics is by camouflage, often by matching the background or by having patterns that break up the animal's outline (think: zebras and leopards). Others have evolved to resemble other species that are generally toxic or venomous, in a technique called mimicry. But a few amazing species have been recently discovered to have the ability to alter their mimicry to actively imitate a range of species, depending on their circumstances. The most remarkable of these is the mimic octopus, which shifts its shape and behavior to mimic a number of different species as fluidly as a real-life Mystique from the X-Men.

This week at Accumulating Glitches I talk about the remarkable acts of mimicry by one of our planet's most fascinating species, the mimic octopus. Check it out here.

And to learn more, check these out:

1. Norman, M.D., Finn, J., & Tregenza, T. (2001). Dynamic mimicry in an Indo-Malayan octopus Proc. R. Soc. Lond. B,, 268, 1755-1758 DOI: 10.1098/rspb.2001.1708

2. Hanlon, R.T., Conroy, L., & Forsythe, J.W. (2008). Mimicry and foraging behaviour of two tropical sand-flat octopus species off North Sulawesi, Indonesia Biological Journal of the Linnean Society, 93, 23-38 DOI: 10.1111/j.1095-8312.2007.00948.x

Nature’s Halloween Costumes

Image by Steve at Wikimedia Commons.

It seems like everyone is racking their brains to come up with a great Halloween costume. But we’re not the only ones to disguise ourselves as something we’re not. Many animals put on costumes just like we do. Take this gharial crocodile for example (do you see him?), covering himself in parts of his environment to hide.

Other animals, like this tawny frogmouth below, develop physical appearances that help them blend in with their surroundings. When threatened, these birds shut their eyes, erect their feathers and point their beak in such a way to match the color and texture of the tree bark.


Image by C Coverdale at Wikimedia Commons.

Rather than hide, some animals have a physical appearance to disguise themselves as other species that are often fierce, toxic or venomous. This type of mimicry is called Batesian mimicry, named after Henry Walter Bates, the English naturalist who studied butterflies in the Amazon and gave the first scientific description of animal mimicry. This plate from Bates’ 1862 paper, Contributions to an Insect Fauna of the Amazon Valley: Heliconiidae, illustrates Batesian mimicry between various toxic butterfly species (in the second and bottom rows) and their harmless mimics (in the top and third rows).


This plate from Bates’ 1862 paper, Contributions to an Insect Fauna of
the Amazon Valley: Heliconiidae is available on Wikipedia Commons.

The bluestriped fangblenny takes its costume another step further, by changing its shape, colors, and behavior to match the company. This fish changes its colors to match other innocuous fish species that are around so it can sneak up and bite unsuspecting larger fish that would otherwise bite them back! Learn more about them here.

The fish on the far left is a juvenile cleaner wrasse in the act of cleaning another fish. The two fish in
the middle and on the right are both bluestriped fangblennies, one in its cleaner wrasse-mimicking
coloration (middle) and the other not (right). Figure from the Cheney, 2013 article in Behavioral Ecology.

But the Master of Disguise title has got to go to the mimic octopus. This animal can change its color, shape and behavior to look and behave like a wide range of creatures, including an innocuous flounder, a poisonous lionfish, or even a dangerous sea snake! Check it out in action:

Hiding in Plain Sight



The fish on the far left is a juvenile cleaner wrasse in the act of cleaning another fish. The two fish in the middle and on the right are both bluestriped fangblennies, one in its cleaner wrasse-mimicking coloration (middle) and the other not (right). Figure from the Cheney, 2013 article in Behavioral Ecology.

Sometimes the best place to hide is right under everybody's nose. If you look like you are innocuous and you belong there, every so often you can get away with trouble.

The bluestriped fangblenny, a coral reef fish in Australia and Indonesia, takes this mimicry strategy to a whole new level. The bluestriped fangblenny doesn't simply look like another species, but it can change its look to resemble any of three different species, depending on who happens to be around! When surrounded by olive-colored damselfish, they take on an olive hue. When surrounded by yellow anthias, they turn orangey-yellow. But their most impressive costume is that of the black and blue striped juvenile cleaner wrasse. And when they are not around a species they mimic, they revert to a brown shade and hide.

This week at Accumulating Glitches I talk about how the bluestriped fangblenny uses mimicry of juvenile cleaner wrasse to sneak up on an bite their predators! Check it out here.

And to learn more, check these out:

1. Cheney, K.L. (2013). Cleaner fish coloration decreases predation risk in aggressive fangblenny mimics Behavioral Ecology, 24 (5), 1161-1165 DOI: 10.1093/beheco/art043

2. Cheney, K.L., Skogh, C., Hart, N.S., & Marshall, N.J. (2009). Mimicry, colour forms and spectral sensitivity of the bluestriped fangblenny, Plagiotremus rhinorhynchos Proceedings of the Royal Society B, 276, 1565-1573 DOI: 10.1098/rspb.2008.1819

Who Said What? (A Guest Post)

By Porscha Carriveau




A Quaker parrot shows off his beak
and tongue. Photo by Alex Nelson
at Wikimedia Commons.

As an aviculturist-turned-scientist, to me, it is common sense to tell people that birds are heard more often than seen. People study bird songs or calls for a variety of reasons. The reason I study bird songs is to identify the songs that my African grey parrot has learned to mimic. His repertoire includes the vocalizations of several birds’ songs such as robins, cardinals, cat birds, and chickadees. He also mimics humans. When leaving home in the morning, the last thing that I hear heading out the door is "gotta go to work" and the sound of being blown a kiss. Most people would think nothing of it, but I am being told this by a bird that has no lips.

Here is an example of an African grey parrot producing sound :

Humans produce sound by using their vocal tract, which includes the larynx (known as the voice box), where the vocal folds are located. Sound is produced with the help of the trachea, which controls air flow through the larynx. In the larynx the vocal folds make sound by vibrating. The remainder of the vocal tract includes the throat, nose, tongue and lips which are involved in the articulation of speech. On the other hand, parrots have a syrinx (what rivals the larynx), a trachea, a tongue and a beak. This means that birds do not have vocal cords to produce the sounds that we as humans make; they instead have two air passages that come together at the organ known as the syrinx creating a vibration that produces sound.

From my experiences working with and owning a variety of parrots, I would say that African grey parrots and monk parakeets (also known as Quaker parrots) are the two clearest and best mimicking parrots. Quaker parrots originate from South America. Over the years these birds have learned to adapt to their environment extremely well, leading to the birds becoming an invasive species in many parts of the world, including several U.S. states where they are now illegal to own as pets.

Research done by Verena Ohms, Gabriël Beckers, Carel ten Cate and Roderick Suthers recently set up a study using x-ray imaging to determine what is taking place in the vocal tract of a Quaker parrot while producing species specific calls. To do this, a piece of metal wire was placed on the underside of a Quaker parrot’s tongue and two pieces of wire were placed inside the trachea attached to tracheal rings. Here is an example of what researchers were looking at which allowed them to monitor the bird’s tongue, beak, and trachea movements.

Researchers looked specifically at a few measures when a bird produces sound: the bird’s tongue height (TH), the size of the beak opening (BO), and the amount of tracheal stretching (TS).

Diagram of the measures taken from Quaker parrots. Figure from Ohms, et al., 2012.

Through observing the changes that occurred from the metal wires placed inside a Quaker parrot’s tongue and trachea while producing calls, researchers were able to conclude that a parrot's tongue functions much differently than a songbirds’. Even more amazing is that a parrot’s tongue is similar to a human tongue in the way that it is manipulated while producing sound. Researchers also determined that these parrots manipulate the sound frequency (pitch) of their calls by moving their tongues in and out. The researchers were also the first to observe a circle-like movement in the trachea that had not been described before in this species.

So whether my trouble-making parrot (you should hear him burp and excuse himself) is blowing me a kiss or mimicking a bird song, there are many similarities in the way that humans and parrots produce speech sounds. This is pretty amazing for two groups of animals that are so different!


Work Cited

Ohms, V., Beckers, G., Ten Cate, C., & Suthers, R. (2012). Vocal Tract Articulation Revisited: The Case of the Monk Parakeet The Journal of Experimental Biology, 215, 85-92 DOI: 10.1242/jeb.064717

Did that Rock Just Ink on Me? (A Guest Post)

By Sam Brunner and Ian Straus

Image from NOAA.

Cephalopods, like octopuses, squid, and cuttlefish, are well known for their ability to alter the color and patterns on their bodies for better camouflage, mimicry, and even communication. By developing a unique set of camouflage tools, cephalopods excel at not being seen or being seen but not detected as a cephalopod. There are videos all over the internet showcasing how squid can terrify divers with their flashing red displays, or how some octopuses avoid their predators by mimicking the local venomous snakes. This video provides the perfect example of an octopus using its incredible camouflage to become invisible while convincing you it is merely a clump of algae.

You see, where many animals have lowly organelles in their skin cells responsible for pigments, cephalopods are unique in having a whole organ dedicated to this task. They’re called chromatophores. Each chromatophore is made up of colored pigment granules held in the ever so eloquently named cytoelastic sacculus, which is surrounded by 15 to 25 radially arranged muscle cells (like spokes on a wheel). Each muscle cell is also associated with a neural axon and its supportive glial cells, which puts it under the control of the nervous system.

Image created by Ian Straus.

So, when an octopus wants to change color, a signal travels from the brain and down the neural axon to the chromatophore, telling the muscles to contract. The muscle contraction pulls on the pigment-filled sac, stretching it to change its translucence and thereby changing the amount of color showing through. The chromatophores can produce yellow, orange, red, brown, and occasionally black pigments. The intensity of the color depends on how many muscle fibers are contracted, and therefore how much the sac expands and the pigment is spread out. Once a chromatophore develops, it will stay put for the rest of the animal’s life. As the animal grows, new, smaller chromatophores develop in the spaces between the old ones. These new organs are only able to produce yellow pigment at first, but darken as they get older.

Dieter Froesch of the Zoological Station of Naples conducted an experiment using the common octopus (Octopus vulgaris) to determine which of their nerves control the chromatophore organs in each part of the body. Each octopus examined was anaesthetized, had a nerve cut and was then checked a few days later for the results.

Froesch found that of the thirty nerves leaving the brain of O. vulgaris, ten have control over chromatophores, with each nerve controlling a different region of the body. These regions have well defined borders with no overlap. The head region alone is controlled by five different nerves, especially around the eyes. This suggests that fine control over color patterns around the eye may play an important role in effective camouflage. Furthermore, the coloration and chromatophores in one area of the body, the funnel, didn’t appear to be controlled by any of the nerves cut in this experiment.



This image shows the different chromatophore regions that each nerve controls. The funnel, which does not have nerve-controlled chromatophores, is the tube near the eye. Image is from Froesch’s Marine Biology paper (1973).

In most cephalopods, vision is the most important sense. Information about their surroundings is processed in vision regions of the brain, which then send along information to chromatophore regions of the brain. The chromatophore brain regions, which contain motor neurons, send signals to the chromatophores throughout the body telling them to contract. So, if an octopus sees a bright orange coral structure, the chromatophores will contract in a way that results in bright orange skin being displayed.

The vision-chromatophore pathway may be the most important part of cephalopod camouflage, but it isn’t the only set of structures that play a role. Leucophores allow for white pigment and reflective iridophores are responsible for blues and greens. Cuttlefish and many octopuses also have muscles throughout the skin arranged into papillae, which can form bumps or spikes that transform the texture of the animal into that of seaweed or an inconspicuous rock. In Octopus vulgaris, all these components are arranged into 1 mm wide units distributed across the skin, with the leucophores and iridophores in the central region, papillae at the exact center, and chromatophores distributed throughout. This complex physiological system grants cephalopods the greatest array of possible camouflages and firmly positions them as the coolest of the invertebrates.

Want to know more?  Check these out:

1. Froesch, D. (1973). Projection of chromatophore nerves on the body surface of Octopus vulgaris Marine Biology, 19 (2), 153-155 DOI: 10.1007/BF00353586

2. Messenger JB (2001). Cephalopod chromatophores: neurobiology and natural history. Biological reviews of the Cambridge Philosophical Society, 76 (4), 473-528 PMID: 11762491

The Real Catfish of Lake Tanganyika

Photo of Manti Te'o by Shotgun Spratling
and Neon Tommy at Wikimedia

Poor Manti Te’o may just be the most gullible schlub on the planet. For those of you that haven’t heard the story, the Notre Dame linebacker and runner-up for the 2012 Heisman Trophy led his team to the BCS National Championship Game, despite (or perhaps inspired by) the tremendous personal losses he has suffered this season. Last September, Te’o learned first of the death of his grandmother, and then within hours learned of the death of his girlfriend, Lennay Kekua. But after months of grieving and playing his heart out, Te’o began to receive phone calls from his “dead” girlfriend, telling him she missed him. Totally freaky, right? Notre Dame hired investigators to look into the undead girlfriend and they discovered that not only is Kekua not dead, she was never alive. The girl never existed. And what of Te’o’s relationship with her? According to Te’o, he never actually met her in person: Their entire long-term relationship took place online and over the phone, so he never realized that her entire persona was a fraud. He was completely and totally catfished.

He was what?

The top definition of catfish at Urban Dictionary reads:

“A catfish is someone who pretends to be someone they're not using Facebook or other social media to create false identities, particularly to pursue deceptive online romances.

Did you hear how Dave got totally catfished last month?! The fox he thought he was talking to turned out to be a pervy guy from San Diego!”

The term apparently originates with the 2010 documentary, Catfish, about a young man who falls in love with a woman on Facebook… who turns out to be someone else. Ew. But why the term catfish? A story in the movie explains that when cod are shipped from North America to Asia, their inactivity can result in mushy meat. Fishermen discovered that putting catfish in the cod tanks will keep the cod active and preserve meat quality. Like catfish for cod, the guy philosophizes, people that have deceptive identities keep idle people active. (The producers of the documentary now produce an MTV series by the same name about this online phenomenon).

But it’s not like real catfish can imitate others… Or do they?

Three poisionous Lake
Tanganyikan catfish. Figure from
Jeremy's 2010 Evolution paper.

A 2010 paper by Jeremy Wright at the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor documents the first known case of mimicry in catfish. There are several types of mimicry in the animal world. In this case, Jeremy was investigating functional Müllerian mimicry, a phenomenon in which two or more poisonous species mimic each other's predator-deterring warning signals (as opposed to Batesian mimicry, where a non-poisonous animal looks like a poisonous one). It may seem excessive to have both poison and warning coloration, but poison only helps after you’ve been bit. If your predators are smart enough to learn from experience, you can benefit from having more poisonous buddies around that look just like you so that if a predator bites just one of you it will then learn to avoid all of you. Sometimes it pays to look just like everyone else.

But just because you look like everyone else doesn’t mean that it is because you’re imitating others. I mean, maybe that’s just the way you look. So how do you know if a bunch of animals that look like one another are using functional Müllerian mimicry?

Jeremy studied a number of similarly-colored, poisonous and closely-related catfish species in the African Great Lake, Lake Tanganyika. All of these Tanganyikan catfish species (from the Synodontis genus) have dark spots on a yellowish background and dark fins with white borders. Could this be because of functional Müllerian mimicry?

Jeremy put a bunch of largemouth bass each into their own tank. Largemouth bass are predators that use their vision to find and eat most any fish that will fit in their mouths. But these bass were from Michigan, so they’d never had any experience with a poisionous, spotted Synodontis catfish. A clear barrier divided each tank in half and the bass was placed on one side of the divider, and a bite-sized fish was put on the other. The bite-sized fish was either a spotted and poisonous Synodontis multipunctata catfish, a spotted and poisonous Synodontis petricola catfish, or a not-spotted and not-poisonous minnow. He then counted how many times the bass struck the plastic divider in 5 minutes as a measure of how much that bass wanted to eat the bite-sized fish. After the 5 minutes were up, Jeremy removed the divider and watched to see if the bass ate the bite-sized fish. For each bass, he did this every day for 5 days, giving each bass the same species of bite-sized fish every day, so it could learn from its past experiences.

A naïve largemouth bass excited to eat a bitesized, but poisonous Synodontis petricola catfish.

A naïve largemouth bass gets to try to eat a bitesized, but poisonous Synodontis petricola catfish… and it doesn’t go so well for him.

A no-longer naïve largemouth bass gives his best death stare to a bitesized, but poisonous Synodontis petricola catfish. Videos provided by Jeremy Wright.

On the first day with the bite-sized fish, all the bass struck at the divider equally regardless of whether it was a spotted poisonous catfish or a minnow. But after their first bite, the bass given spotted poisonous catfish quickly lost their interest in them even though the bass given minnows continued to vigorously strike at them every day. When Jeremy later gave them a different species of bite-sized fish, those previously given a spotted poisonous catfish avoided both species of spotted poisonous catfish, but readily ate the minnows. So the bass had learned. Spotted catfish: bad! Minnows: yum! And the spotted catfish look was transferable between the two species… the hallmark of functional Müllerian mimicry. Further analysis of the venom revealed that these catfish species were all equally poisonous: Painful, but not deadly.

Online catfish like Lennay Kekua are usually like these real-life spotted poisonous catfish: painful, but not (usually) deadly. And they typically have facebook pages and twitter accounts full of sexy photos and superficial chatter. If we’re smart, we can learn to avoid them. Do you know if all your “friends” on social media sites are who they say they are?

Want to know more? Check this out:

Wright, J. (2011). CONSERVATIVE COEVOLUTION OF MÜLLERIAN MIMICRY IN A GROUP OF RIFT LAKE CATFISH Evolution, 65 (2), 395-407 DOI: 10.1111/j.1558-5646.2010.01149.x