time when numerous forms of multicellular life made their first recorded
appearance—occurred around Thanksgiving. The meteor that killed the
dinosaurs million years ago, marking the K/T boundary, occurred the
day after Christmas, which the British celebrate as Boxing Day. By this
scale, the branch of life (which biologists call a lineage) that led to us split
from the branch that led to chimpanzees sometime shortly after noon on
the last day of the year. The entire six million (give or take a million) year
history of human separation from chimpanzees and the other apes is thus
reduced to less than hours!
But this scale soon becomes too grand for our purposes. By this reckon-
ing, we poor (human) players don’t even get a full second to strut and fret
upon the stage. Let’s be a little less ambitious in our use of scale; what if we
were to collapse just those six million years since humans split from the
chimpanzees into a single year, with January as the date the lineages
separated and December as the present time? Here an -year lifespan
becomes seven minutes, about half of what Andy Warhol promised us.
We’ll return to this device, the “human calendar,” many times throughout
this section.
Bipedalism, the habitual walking on two legs, evolved soon after we split
from chimpanzees. Fossils that are over four million years old (early spring
on the “human calendar”), on or close to our lineage, bear convincing signs
of being bipedal. In fact, some biologists have speculated that the common
ancestor was bipedal, and chimps subsequently lost bipedalism.
4
The evidence
supporting this claim is far from solid, but it is an intriguing idea. Why did
our precursors become bipedal so early on? There is no shortage of opinion
regarding this question. Actually, we seem to suffer from an embarrassment
of hypotheses regarding the selective advantage of bipedalism. Some hypothe-
ses for the adaptive significance of bipedalism include the freeing of the
hands to carry food, minimizing exposure to the sun, increased height
associated with bipedalism, and the display of male genitalia coupled with
the concealment of female genitalia!
Regardless of why we evolved bipedalism, our brains were not much
bigger than those of chimpanzees when we started walking on two legs.
Over the six million years of separation from chimps, our brains quadru-
pled in size. If this rate had been constant, it would mean an increase of
only . every hundred thousand years. Obviously, our brains did not
increase at a constant rate; there were jumps and starts, stalls, and perhaps
even reversals. Nevertheless, when observed at a coarse scale, the rate of
change of our brains appears almost linear. At no particular period of time
in the history of the human lineage, can one say, “This is where our brains
became human.” Moreover, considerable variation exists within the brain
sizes of living humans; some have brains with volumes comparable to a
liter bottle of soda, while the brains of others are twice the size. Aside, from
gross pathologies, little (at best) correlation exists between brain size and
intelligence in modern humans (see chapter ).
DARWINIAN DETECTIVES