Skye's landscape holds many secrets
After having lived for four months on the Isle of Skye, I confess myself to be one of the many who have fallen hopelessly under its renowned spell. Recent headlines emphasize that Skye is not merely a magnet for dreamy tourists, but a location of great but often underestimated significance for palaeontology.
Dr. Neil Clark, of the Hunterian Museum and Art Gallery in Glasgow, observes that “Skye is very important for world-wide palaeontology, mainly because of the number of Middle Jurassic sites around the world is not that great.” In the past week scientists have announced the discovery on Skye of the remains of the world’s first aquatic turtles, as well as footprints that link the dinosaurs which once lived on Skye to others found in Wyoming, U.S.A.
It is surprising that this angle is not seized upon with more vigour by tourism authorities and operators, for Skye’s imposing landscape, and the geological secrets it reveals, are a large part of its charm. Palaeontology is a science possessed of a similar magic, in which scientists create compelling tales of ancient creatures in alien landscapes and continents that move across the face of the earth. Yet the truth is that these images are based upon scant and sometimes frail evidence, which possesses little meaning for the general public without expert interpretation. Skye is not a centre for palaeontological tourism because few of its treasures remain there – they are quickly transferred to more central locations for study and analysis.
This is perhaps a necessary evil. Fossils are a peculiar kind of scientific resource. Their discovery is often random and linked to incredible chance, so each individual piece must be milked for all the information it can possibly give. Considering the number of organisms that have traversed the earth, the creation of fossils is relatively rare. Yet how can one determine whether their numbers are in fact increasing or diminishing? The more time that passes, and the more that humans develop and cover the planet, presumably means the fewer are the fossils left to find, or capable of being found. Yet new fossils must still be developing somewhere in the soil. For our purposes, however, it is only the fossils of great age that have anything significant to teach us, and these are a relatively limited resource.
In considering this rarity, it becomes apparent that climate change is not only affecting the planet’s future, but slowly severing our ties with the past. While new finds, such as those on Skye, are revealed by the effects of erosion, countless other unknown treasures are no doubt slowly being swallowed by the sea, as the planet warms and water levels rise. Archaeological sites are similarly threatened, as some of the earliest outposts of British civilisation cling periously to the edge of inward-shifting cliffs. While environmental science is predominantly (and understandably) concerned with the future of the human population, it is perhaps worth sparing a thought for the priceless knowledge that is also slipping beyond our grasp. Palaeontology may not have immediate relevance for erasing poverty, or ending global conflict. But in studying the patterns of life in the past, we can perhaps find ways of predicting and managing the future, or better comprehending the slippery slope on which our planet rests.
