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< Back to Issue 9 The Life of Matcha by Kara Miwa-Dale 28 October 2025 Illustrated by Ingrid Sefton Edited by Isaac Tian I sway gently in the spring breeze, my vibrant green surface alive with chlorophyll. It’s a warm April day in Uji, Kyoto, and the conditions are perfect. If you haven’t already guessed, I am a matcha leaf. And this is my journey: from a shaded tea field to a powdered cultural icon. A farmer approaches, her movements calm and focused. She hums a soft tune as she reaches towards me. Then, everything goes dark. But this is not the end of my story – it is just the beginning… Cultivated in the shadows About four weeks before I was plucked, my world dimmed – intentionally. Farmers shaded me from direct sunlight using bamboo screens, an ancient practice known as tana cultivation (1). Among this shaded world, photosynthesis slowed and carbohydrates grew scarce. In response, I redirected my nitrogen reserves into free amino acids, favouring the formation of compounds like theanine (2). The shade also awakened genes involved in amino acid transport and theanine biosynthesis, enhancing the pathways responsible for L-theanine production - an amino acid known to induce a state of calm alertness in humans (2). At the same time, the production of catechins, the source of my bitterness, gradually declined (2). I don’t mean to brag, but the fact that I was chosen, among so many other leaves, meant that I was of exceptional quality. My glow-up from leaf to powder Shortly after harvest, I was gently steamed. This critical step deactivated polyphenol oxidase enzymes, stopping the process of oxidation before my leaves turned brown (3). From here, I was then air-dried, my veins and stems removed, and I was ground between granite millstones into an ultra-fine powder – matcha. My transformation into powder amplifies the capacity for the valuable L-theanine, catechins and chlorophyll to be ingested, enhancing my potential effects on the human body (4). A mindful celebration of my life I received the highest of honours: to be prepared in a traditional Japanese tea ceremony. In the 12 th century, Zen Buddhist monks first brought powdered green tea to Japan (5). They valued it as a tool for meditation, as much a spiritual discipline as a drink. The tea master – or chadoka – prepares me with graceful precision. Every movement is intentional; each sip a meditation. The ceremony follows the teaching of ‘ichigo ichie’, a philosophy that refers to the attitude of putting one’s whole spirit into a bowl of tea, since each tea ceremony is a once-in-a-lifetime gathering (6). My consumption increases alpha brain wave activity, a state associated with relaxed alertness, or focus without stress (7). My travels to the West I am one of the lucky ones. Elsewhere, leaves of a lower grade are processed with less care by hurried hands. They are shipped in bulk across continents, their bitterness masked with sugar and milk, where they are sold in Starbucks as ‘green tea lattes’ or in an array of matcha-flavoured sweets, far removed from my cultural roots. In the West, I’ve become something else entirely. A token of wellness, luxury, even a lifestyle aesthetic. I have become a cultural symbol of Japan, while also gaining status as a ‘health food’ and a marker of social prestige – representing the so-called ‘clean lifestyle’, or even the ideals of the ‘performative male’. Anthropologists describe this phenomenon as cultural food colonialism: the commodification of a food or drink by another society, often without a full appreciation of its historical and cultural roots. I am now enjoyed throughout the world, yet my true value and original purpose are sometimes forgotten, consumed more as a passing trend than with the intention of mindful presence. Sometimes I am added to products by companies eager to capitalise on a fad. My chemistry Science plays a big part in my newfound fame. Research has found that the L-theanine, e pigallocatechin gallate (EGCG) and rutin contained within my leaves elicit a variety of physiological benefits. L-theanine counteracts the stimulating effects of caffeine, giving drinkers a calmer ‘buzz’ and a more gradual release of energy compared to coffee. This unique combination of L-theanine and caffeine may enhance concentration and memory, while also alleviating stress (8). As a result, I am particularly appealing to those who embrace a ‘slow-living lifestyle’ or to individuals who become jittery from coffee due to overstimulation of the nervous system. Another prominent compound found in my powder, EGCG is renowned for its ability to protect cells from damage, reduce inflammation, and support heart health, while also exhibiting anti-tumour properties. By neutralising harmful free radicals, EGCG further helps to reduce oxidative stress, which is associated with ageing and a range of chronic diseases (9). I also contain a particularly high rutin content compared to other teas. This polyphenic compound is a potent antioxidant and, in combination with ascorbic acid (vitamin C), contributes to cardiovascular protection by strengthening blood vessels and improving circulation (10). In addition, rutin has demonstrated antidiabetic properties, helping to regulate blood sugar levels and improve metabolic function (10). A hot commodity and a growing concern As global demand for my vibrant green leaves continues to soar, tea plantations are expanding rapidly, sometimes at the expense of native ecosystems. My growth often comes with a cost: natural habitats are cleared to make way for me, leading to a loss of biodiversity. Farmers face increased pressure to cultivate larger harvests, striving to meet global demand while upholding sustainable practices. This so-called ‘matcha mania’ has even led to global shortages. Farmers can’t keep up, prices are climbing, and some companies have resorted to limiting purchases to stop people from stockpiling. My rise in popularity is exciting, but it raises an important question: how can we enjoy the benefits I bring while ensuring that my cultivation is ecologically responsible? My future I am torn - pulled in two different directions. On one hand, I swell with pride that my fellow matcha leaves and I are travelling across the globe, introducing more people to the calm, focused energy I can bring. I am pleased when coffee drinkers opt for me in search of a gentler buzz, or when someone slows down to whisk me into a beautiful frothy drink, savouring the ritual and satisfaction I was always meant to inspire. But my popularity is not without its complications. Can the old and the traditional truly coexist with the new? I watch, bewildered, as I am mixed with banana pudding, pistachio lattes, and other curious concoctions. Those consuming these drinks delight in their sweetness, but I wonder whether they can appreciate what makes me special under the layers of so many other products. I fear that my origins may be overshadowed by trends and novelty. I hope that my tradition is remembered, even as I am enjoyed in new ways around the world. Yet if you pause, every cup offers a quiet invitation. The next time you take a sip of my green goodness, take a deep breath. Let its warmth and aroma envelop you, and consider the long journey I’ve taken to reach your cup. From the shaded tea gardens where I was grown, to the careful whisking that releases my flavour, each sip embodies countless steps, immense human labour, and a story that spans cultures and continents. What seems like an everyday ritual holds so much more. In that stillness, remember how even small acts connect us to the world, to tradition, and to the delicate balance between old and new. References 1. Purvis L. Tencha: Why Shade-Growing is Essential to Matcha Green Tea. Mizuba Tea Co . September 26, 2017. https://mizubatea.com/blogs/news-1/it-can-only-be-tencha-why-shade-growing-is-essential-to-matcha 2. Chen X, Ye K, Xu Y, Zhao Y, Zhao D. Effect of Shading on the Morphological, Physiological, and Biochemical Characteristics as Well as the Transcriptome of Matcha Green Tea. International Journal of Molecular Sciences . 2022;23(22):14169. doi: 10.3390/ijms232214169 3. Wang J, Li Z. Effects of processing technology on tea quality analyzed using high-resolution mass spectrometry-based metabolomics. Food Chemistry . 2024;443:138548. doi: 10.1016/j.foodchem.2024.138548 4. Devkota HP, Gaire BP, Hori K, Subedi L, Adhikari-Devkota A, Belwal T, et al. The science of matcha: Bioactive compounds, analytical techniques and biological properties. T rends in Food Science & Technology . 2021;118:735-43. doi: 10.1016/j.tifs.2021.10.021 5. McNamee GL. Matcha . Encyclopaedia Britannica. September 10, 2025. https://www.britannica.com/topic/matcha 6. Phenimax Legends of Japan. Ichigo Ichie: The Deeper Meaning Behind a Once-in-a-Lifetime Tea Gathering. Phenimax Legends of Japan ; December 1, 2024. https://phenimax.com/sw/blogs/japanese-tea-article/onetime-onemeeting 7. Baba Y, Inagaki S, Nakagawa S, Kobayashi M, Kaneko T, Takihara T. Effects of Daily Matcha and Caffeine Intake on Mild Acute Psychological Stress-Related Cognitive Function in Middle-Aged and Older Adults: A Randomized Placebo-Controlled Study. Nutrients . 2021;13(5). doi: 10.3390/nu13051700 8. Mancini E, Beglinger C, Drewe J, Zanchi D, Lang UE, Borgwardt S. Green tea effects on cognition, mood and human brain function: A systematic review. Phytomedicine . 2017;34:26-37. doi: 10.3390/foods9040483 9. Capasso L, De Masi L, Sirignano C, Maresca V, Basile A, Nebbioso A, et al. Epigallocatechin Gallate (EGCG): Pharmacological Properties, Biological Activities and Therapeutic Potential. Molecules . 2025;30(3):654. doi: 10.3390/molecules30030654 10. Kochman J, Jakubczyk K, Antoniewicz J, Mruk H, Janda K. Health Benefits and Chemical Composition of Matcha Green Tea: A Review. Molecules . 2021;26(1):85. doi: 10.3390/molecules26010085 Previous article Next article Entwined back to

< Back to Issue 9 Eyeballs, a Knife, and No Fear of God by Jess Walton 28 October 2025 Illustrated by Anabelle Dewi Saraswati Edited by Chavindi Sinhara Mudalige Humans have wanted to understand our bodies the entire time we’ve had them, which is to say, the entire time. Late Classical Athens, around 300 BC, at a peak of intellectual prosperity: Herophilos cuts into a corpse. From this, he’s going to make the novel argument that the brain contains knowledge, and in doing so, he’s going to criticize Aristotle’s writing, which describes the brain as something akin to an air conditioner. Aristotle thought the brain was a cooling chamber, essentially, to prevent the heart from overheating, and that cognition happened in the heart. Much, much earlier, around 1000 BC in India, Sushruta, in his foundational surgical text, overestimated the bone count in humans by over 100. Many ancient societies had impressively detailed understanding of anatomy, considering they had no microscopes, no cameras, no X-rays; usually nothing more than their knives and eyeballs. It’s important to note as well that this article is a brief overview of a complex subject, with a major focus on Classical, meaning Ancient Greek and Roman, examples, and is in no way a complete story of early anatomical developments across the globe. Asia, Africa, the Americas and the Arab world each had their own rich and complex traditions, beyond the few examples cherry-picked here. Most societies had a few impressive hits and a few impressive misses; in a way, their approach to science isn’t all that different from ours today. What can we learn from them, and what can we learn about ourselves? In Ancient Athens, Aristotle believed the heart to be both the intellectual and emotional center of humans; the “seat of the soul” (1). Some remnants of this remain in our modern association between heart and emotion, though we know now it isn’t backed by science. His reasoning behind this was the convergence of blood vessels at the heart and its importance; from this, he also, perhaps reasonably, thought it to be the source of blood (2). Despite being deservedly considered a major anatomist, Aristotle likely made his observations from examining and dissecting the bodies of animals, particularly lower mammals, like dogs or livestock, instead of real humans (3). He unknowingly used homologous structures, long before evolution or even Charles Darwin himself was conceptualized, to essentially assume the anatomy of humans from other animals. Given this, his conclusions on the brain become a little more understandable. The brain is a strange-looking organ, critically important to life, though not obviously connected to the pulse or rich with blood; how were they to understand the structure of nerves and white matter? That it assists the heart in some way becomes a logical conclusion. So why not serve a cooling function? Blood is hot, so the heart must get hot. Overheating is usually bad; see fire. And the brain’s size makes it ideal for such a thing. The thing about anatomy and science, Aristotle’s assertion being one primordial example of many around the ancient world, is that it changes. Herophilos and Erasistratus were two more Greek anatomists who succeeded and often contested Aristotle. Unlike him, they dissected humans, having no qualms about a man’s dead—or, according to some sources, still alive—body (4). However, they offered several accurate, or at least more accurate, insights inside human bodies. Herophilus argued that the brain wasn’t a cooling chamber but contained knowledge (5). While he was at it, he argued that the heart has four chambers, unlike Aristotle, who claimed it only has three (5). Many of Herophilos and Erasistratus’ insights required Aristotle’s, or some other prior Mediterranean scholar’s, claims to give them something to criticise. Praxagoras was one such anatomist, from about 400 BC, about 100 years earlier. He correctly associated the pulse with natural movement within the body, but also asserted that arteries carry air (6). There is, possibly because of this claim, debate as to whether he had any practical anatomical experience or observed any dissections. If so, it’s quite impressive to miss the blood in arteries. He did, however, note that veins carry blood (2). Thus, he was later included in Herophilos’ critique. Before we criticise how long it took for them to realise seemingly obvious facts, we must remember that bloodletting as an acceptable treatment persisted into the 19 th Century. Modern and recent understandings are far from flawless. A couple of hundred years later, Galen, a Roman from the late 2 nd Century AD, would voice similar critiques (2). Galen would later become famous for his theory of the four humors: blood, yellow bile, black bile, and phlegm, each with associated personalities and elements (7). While these are all real liquids found somewhere in the human body, they do not really work as the four-way counterbalance he describes. Galen made some incredible leaps forward in Roman anatomy, including developing more elaborate tools for dissection and surgery processes, which would be instrumental in allowing future developments in the field. However, he also learned more anatomy from treating severe gladiator injuries—which is awesome—or like Aristotle, from dissections and studies on lower mammals (7). This led to some interesting conclusions; his description and diagrams of a human uterus match that of a dog’s uterus exactly, for example (7). He did well with the tools he had, but guesswork has its limits. Three hundred years before Aristotle, and over seven centuries before Galen, the ancient Indian physician Sushruta, a continent away, was revolutionizing, and if there was nothing to revolutionise, inventing surgeries and surgical techniques. He also valued an understanding of human anatomy, which likely contributed to his surgical skill, and dedicated a portion of his seminal Sanskrit work, Sushruta Samhita , to anatomy, calling it the Sharira Sthana . In his work, he describes in detail the head, which he correctly identified as the major center of essentially all function, particularly the cranial nerves (8). He also includes the first detailed guide to human dissection, alongside the anatomy of the embryo at various developmental stages; this is described as arising from seven skins, each with their own associated ailments, and while the skins are anomalous, many of the ailments correlate impressively with known diseases (8). There’s also, incredibly, a detailed description of cataract surgery procedure, where exceptionally specific incision locations in the cornea are interspersed with instructions to sedate the patient with wine mixed with cannabis, which makes sense in a world far predating modern anesthesia, then to spray the eye with breast milk (9). This part seems outlandish and harder to explain, but anyone who has studied immunology can tell you that breast milk contains antibodies and antibacterial proteins. Sushruta likely made some link between breast milk and reduced post-op infections, even if there were not yet microscopes to see bacteria with. Even if they couldn’t see why on the molecular scale, ancient anatomists were able to understand what worked and what didn’t and justify it to the best of their knowledge. When Sushruta describes the bones of the human body, he does so in great detail, and also counts more than 300 of them. Humans typically have 206 bones, give or take a rib: Sushruta mildly overestimated. This is thought to be from him, largely basing his skeletal insights off child cadavers, before many bones have fused together (9). Hindu religious law calls for the cremation of any body over two years old, in its natural and thus undissected state; though there are accounts of Sushruta performing dissections, presumably on adults, the bodies he likely had the most exposure to were infants. Sushruta was working within the confines of the society and world that he lived in, as was Herophilos. Medical insights which seem obvious to us today, like that the brain is for thinking and the heart is for beating blood, and that blood goes through the arteries and is most definitely a liquid, rely upon prior knowledge reached with tools that hadn’t even been invented yet. These firsts—surgeons, anatomists, scientists—would probably have to be physically pried away from microscopes and X-rays, if ever introduced to them. They often didn’t even have a human body to dissect, yet drew human anatomical conclusions regardless. And it’s easy to marvel at their mistakes, but it’s even easier to marvel at how much they got right; Herophilos correctly uncovered nerves and linked them to sensation and response, which is impressive in itself. Could you find a nerve in some meat, with just your naked eye? He also linked the heart and the pulse. The Huangdi Neijing , for example, is a Chinese medical text said, though disputed, to be from 2600 BC, which describes the relationships between organs in military terms: the heart as a king, the liver as a commandant, and the gallbladder as an attorney-general responsible for coordination (10). However, both like and before Herophilos, it also correctly identifies the cyclic nature of blood flow and links it to the heart (10). The Edwin Smith Papyrus, dating from 1700 BC in Ancient Egypt, is the oldest known surgical text, describing 48 different injuries with treatments; all shockingly accurate (11). Sushruta may have miscounted the bones, but he described their shapes accurately and suggested legitimate therapies for particular bone breakages and dislocations. Nowadays, little has changed: in just the 1950s, lobotomies became the standard cure for a headache; even long after we developed microscopes, we were recommending treatments, like scrambling our brains, that only 70 years later seem ridiculously stupid. We’re far from done charting our own bodies, either. In 2018, an entirely new type of tissue all throughout the body was found: the interstitium, which is critical in cell and organ communication across the body (12). It’s been there the whole time, but no one had noticed before. Humans are humans; it is only natural to want to understand ourselves, and as a part of that, our bodies. We now study our ancestors as they studied themselves; the same mix of awe, confusion and confidence. Their methods and conclusions may be fallible, but their curiosity was not, and as long as we remain, never will be, dead. These examples were only a fraction of those whose work has been preserved, who themselves were only a fraction of the ancient people across the globe who investigated human anatomy. A millennium from now, our descendants will laugh at our misconceptions, when they have mapped every neuron in the human brain with instruments we could not conceive of. But without us, they wouldn’t know what they know, and without our original anatomists, we wouldn’t know what we know. Our modern granular understanding of our own structure is built on the bodies we looked in before ours. So, we should perhaps extend some empathy to our predecessors. They had only eyeballs, a knife, and our own curiosity. Different tools, same bodies. References Aird WC. Discovery of the cardiovascular system: from Galen to William Harvey. J Thromb Haemost. 2011;9(Suppl 1):118–29. Johnston IH, Papavramidou N. Galen on the Pulses: Medico-historical Analysis, Textual Tradition, Translation [Internet]. De Gruyter; 2023 [cited 2025 Oct 10]. Available from: https://www.degruyterbrill.com/document/doi/10.1515/9783110612677/html Crivellato E, Ribatti D. A portrait of Aristotle as an anatomist. Clin Anat. 2007;20(5):447–85. Papa V, Varotto E, Vaccarezza M, Ballestriero R, Tafuri D, Galassi FM. The teaching of anatomy throughout the centuries: from Herophilus to plastination and beyond. Med Hist. 2019;3(2):69–77. Bay NSY, Bay BH. Greek anatomist Herophilus: the father of anatomy. Anat Cell Biol. 2010;43(4):280–3. Wright J. Review of: Praxagoras of Cos on Arteries, Pulse and Pneuma. Studies in Ancient Medicine, 48 . Bryn Mawr Class Rev [Internet]. [cited 2025 Oct 10]. Available from: https://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2017/2017.07.34/ Ajita R. Galen and his contribution to anatomy: a review. J Evid Based Med Healthc. 2015;4(26):4509–16. Bhattacharya S. Sushruta—the very first anatomist of the world. Indian J Surg. 2022;84(5):901–4. Loukas M, Lanteri A, Ferrauiola J, Tubbs RS, Maharaja G, Shoja MM, et al. Anatomy in ancient India: a focus on the Sushruta Samhita . J Anat. 2010;217(6):646–50. O’Boyle C. TVN Persaud, Early history of human anatomy: from antiquity to the beginning of the modern era. Med Hist. 1987;31(4):478–9. van Middendorp JJ, Sanchez GM, Burridge AL. The Edwin Smith papyrus: a clinical reappraisal of the oldest known document on spinal injuries. Eur Spine J. 2010 Nov;19(11):1815–23. Benias PC, Wells RG, Sackey-Aboagye B, Klavan H, Reidy J, Buonocore D, et al. Structure and distribution of an unrecognized interstitium in human tissues. Sci Rep. 2018;8(1):4947. Previous article Next article Entwined back to

< Back to Issue 9 Conferring with Consciousness by Ingrid Sefton 28 October 2025 Illustrated by Heather Sutherland Edited by Steph Liang Down the rabbit hole Indulge me for a moment, will you? I value your opinion. Your opinion, as in, one which has arisen from your mind. I would assume. It would seem unusual to consider that, perhaps, your thoughts are not your own. Stranger still to ponder the possibility that they did not arise from your mind. I digress – or maybe not. For it is this dilemma which I wish to pick your brain on. The mind. The brain. You. Are they one and the same; entwined? What do you think? Again, assuming it is you thinking. Assuming you feel certain enough to agree with this. Really, with what certainty can we say anything? You may be wondering who “I” am. I am but you, of course! I kid, but not entirely. Think of me as the brain; your brain if you wish. An excellent name I gave myself, if you ask me. Before we spiral any deeper into this chasm that is consciousness – because that is what this is about, is that not what this, life, is all about? – I must disclose a few things. One, I do not expect you to have answers to these questions I pose. Because two. We do not have answers. I apologise that I have not come bearing the answers to our existence, that I have not yet unpicked these questions of “who?”, “how?”, “why?”. I come offering an alternative. I wish to present to you these entangled threads of consciousness: of what we currently know, of what we hope to know and of where we can proceed from here. Then it’s back to you. You get to decide what you think (again, with the thinking). Maybe, for you and the workings of your inner mind, consciousness and all it entails will be revealed in full clarity. Maybe not. You certainly won’t know unless you try. A brief neural memoir Many a Nobel prize has been awarded for discoveries relating to the nervous system: from the morphology of neurons (Golgi and Cajal 1906) and their electrical signalling properties (Eccles, Hodgkin and Huxley 1963), to the nature of information processing in the visual system (Hubel and Wiesel 1981) (1). Despite some obvious gaps remaining in what is known about the brain (ahem, that slight issue of consciousness), the field of neuroscience has rapidly progressed over the last century. Gone are the days of thinking I was nothing more than a cooling mechanism for the blood, as Greek philosopher Aristotle once believed (2). How dismissive of my intellect! I assure you, I have far more important things to be doing. Generating the experience of “you”, as one small matter. The techniques developed to study the brain have also rapidly advanced. It was not until the invention of microscopes in the 19 th century that the neuron doctrine even came about . Pioneered by Santiago Ramón y Cajal, this is the (now) well-accepted concept that the nervous system is made up of discrete cells known as neurons, challenging older theories which proposed a continuous neural network (3). Today, neuroscientists have the ability to appreciate my anatomical and functional complexity at a huge range of temporal and spatial resolutions. Whole-brain connectivity can be studied using functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), while the electrical activity of single neurons can be recorded using patch-clamp electrode technology. Not to mention optogenetics, chemogenetics, viral transduction: while the available experimental techniques are still unable to address all our brainy questions, the field of neuroscience has never been in a better position to get closer to answers. The potential of neurons Neurons: those special, excitable cells that make up the squishy entity I seem to be. The mechanisms of how neurons detect, generate and transmit signals have been described in utmost precision. When I talk of excitable cells, I am not referring to a bunch of cheerful, eager neurons. Excitability, in this context, refers to the fact that neurons can respond to a sensory stimulus by generating and propagating electrical signals, known as action potentials. Clearly, I am made up of slightly more than two neurons cheerfully signalling to each other back and forth. Try 86 billion, between the cortex and cerebellum combined (4). Yet, despite our deep understanding of neural signalling mechanisms, this has yet to reveal an explanation for consciousness. Individual neurons in isolation, it would appear, don’t hold the answers we want. In turn, a focus of neuroscience research has been on the wider “neuronal correlates of consciousness”, the minimal neuronal mechanisms that are sufficient to generate a conscious experience (5). This relates broadly to the generation of consciousness itself, but also to studying the neural underpinnings of specific conscious experiences. For example, which collective neural substrates support the process of visual object recognition. This is often a focus of fMRI studies, which examine brain activity in an attempt to pin-point where in the brain a particular cognitive function may be performed. Fancy techniques aside, some of the most fundamental insights into my regional specialisations have arisen from careful observation following selective lesions or damage to the brain. The critical, yet specific role of Broca’s area in speech production was discovered in 1861 by surgeon Paul Broca’s observations of his patient “Tan”. Tan had lost his ability to produce meaningful speech, yet was still able to comprehend speech; Broca identified a lesion in Tan’s left frontal lobe post-mortem, drawing the conclusion that this region is selectively involved in speech production (6). But what does all of this show us? Perhaps the only thing that neuroscientists can agree on, is that conscious experience is fundamentally, in some way, somehow, related to my activity: the brain. In turn, the activity of the brain is related to the activity of neurons; firing and signalling and transforming information. A lot is known about neurons. Less can be said about specific cognitive functions, yet we can see correlations between the regional brain activity and particular conscious experiences. Here lies my problem. The elephant in the room. How do we get from individual neurons to conscious experience? A map with no destination Enter “The Connectome” and the Human Connectome Project: a collective attempt to map the neuronal connections of the human brain, in an effort to connect structure to function (7). And in turn, for our purposes, to ideally connect this to consciousness. The rationale is that by modelling and trying to “build” a brain using a bottom-up approach, we may therefore understand the mechanisms of how cognitive functions arise. I’m sure it will come as no surprise that this isn’t the simplest of tasks. To measure, record and model billions of neurons and synapses requires techniques, time, and resources that are incredibly hard to come by in sufficient quantities. Excitingly, scientists have recently managed to successfully map a whole brain. That is, of a fly (8). With 3016 neurons and 548000 synapses, this was no simple feat. In case you had forgotten my own complexity, however, let me remind you of my 86 billion neurons, and estimated 1.5 x10 14 total synapses in the cortex alone (4). Progress has also been made on the human front, nonetheless. It was recently announced that a cubic millimetre of human temporal cortex has been completely reconstructed using electron microscopy, involving 1.4 petabytes of electron microscopy data (1000 Terabytes or one quadrillion bytes) (9). One cubic millimetre down, approximately a million to go. Putting practicalities aside, let us suppose we do, one day, manage to map and model an entire human brain, in all its intricacies. What now? What does one actually do with this data, and how would this allow us to better understand how consciousness arises? Up until now, we have been following the train of thought that consciousness, somehow, results from the activity of neurons, yet does not arise from the activity of individual neurons. This leads us to the notion that perhaps consciousness is due to the collective, computational activity of neurons working together – that with enough complexity, and enough information processing, together this will lead to the first-person experience of being “you”. Does this actually make sense? You tell me. Wishful thinking and conscious rocks The notion that, at a certain level of complex neuronal signal processing, a first-person perspective of “being you” (i.e. consciousness) arises is often termed “strong emergence” or “magical emergence” (10). With what we currently know about the properties of neurons, there is fundamentally no reason why this should happen. The “property” of consciousness, which cannot be predicted from the principles of how individual neurons function, seemingly just emerges. Consciousness, therefore, must somehow be greater than the sum of its parts, only emerging when neurons interact as a wider network. Maybe, the answer to this is merely that we don’t understand the mechanisms of neurons as well as we think we do. It could be that we have missed a fundamental property of how neurons operate and upon discovery of this, it would suddenly be completely explicable how consciousness arises. Or maybe, computation and neural signalling is not all there is to it. An alternative line of thinking is that rather than consciousness being a property that “arises”, it is a basic constituent of the universe that is missing from our current model of standard physics (11). That is, consciousness has been present all along and exists in everything. The philosophical view of ‘panpsychism’ embraces this idea to the extreme, proposing that everything within the universe is, to some degree, conscious (12). As in yes, that rock over there might just be conscious. Other theories suggest that consciousness only emerges in a recognisable form in certain conditions or at some critical threshold; myself and all my neurons apparently being one such example of the “right” conditions. Theories of consciousness don’t just stop at computation and fundamental properties of the universe. Quantum physics, microtubule computations, electromagnetic fields; all have been proposed as part of this web of “why” (13). While some theories arguably veer more towards pseudoscience than well-founded scholarship, they all make one thing clear. At this stage, just about every idea remains fair game in the quest for answers. Pondering hard, or hardly pondering? The question of consciousness is far from limited to the field of neuroscience. Philosophers too have long wracked their brains in an attempt to rationalise and unpick this problem. What unites the work of neuroscientists and philosophers alike, along with the many theories of consciousness, is that nothing provides a satisfactory explanation for why consciousness should emerge from the activity of neurons. Philosopher David Chalmers has termed this the “hard problem”. “Why should physical processing give rise to a rich inner life at all? It seems objectively unreasonable that it should, and yet it does” (14). If consciousness is simply the result of high-level processing and the computational activity of neurons, why would we even need to be conscious? If all the brain is doing is computation, and thus everything can be done via computation, there would appear to be no purpose in having a subjective experience of being “you”. Whichever side of consciousness we may be inclined to take, computational, fundamental, or otherwise, the fact remains. We cannot seem to move beyond mere description, to explanation. We have not solved the “hard problem”. A final conundrum, and a sole certainty Physicist Emerson M Pugh once made the somewhat sceptical remark that “if the human brain were so simple that we could understand it, we would be so simple that we couldn't.” (15) Is the reason that we have yet to understand consciousness simply, frustratingly, that we are not meant to? Logical conundrums aside, I rest my case. I hope I have given you some food for thought, or at the very least, not set off too dramatic an existential crisis. Somewhere between the neural wirings of the brain and the experience of consciousness lies an answer, regardless of whether we are destined to find it out. Make of this what you will. And if nothing else, let me try reassuring you once again with the wisdom of René Descartes. “ Cogito, ergo sum ” “ I think, therefore I am ” (16). If you are here, and you are thinking, you are conscious. You, my friend, are you. References Nobel Prizes in nerve signaling. Nobel Prize Outreach. September 16, 2009. Accessed October 18, 2025. https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/themes/nobel-prizes-in-nerve-signaling-1906-2000/ . Rábano A. Aristotle’ s “mistake”: the structure and function of the brain in the treatises on biology. Neurosciences and History . 2018;6(4):138-43. Golgi C. The neuron doctrine - theory and facts . 1906. p. 190–217. https://www.nobelprize.org/uploads/2018/06/golgi-lecture.pdf Herculano-Houzel S. The human brain in numbers: a linearly scaled-up primate brain. Front Hum Neurosci . 2009;3:31. doi: 10.3389/neuro.09.031.2009 Koch C, Massimini M, Boly M, Tononi G. Neural correlates of consciousness: progress and problems. Nature Reviews Neuroscience . 2016;17(5):307-21. Broca area . Encyclopedia Britannica; 2025. Accessed October 18, 2025. https://www.britannica.com/science/Broca-area Elam JS, Glasser MF, Harms MP, Sotiropoulos SN, Andersson JLR, Burgess GC, et al. The Human Connectome Project: A retrospective. NeuroImage . 2021;244. doi: 10.1016/j.neuroimage.2021.118543 Winding M, Pedigo BD, Barnes CL, Patsolic HG, Park Y, Kazimiers T, et al. The connectome of an insect brain. Science . 2023;379(6636). doi: 10.1126/science.add9330 Shapson-Coe A, Januszewski M, Berger DR, Pope A, Wu Y, Blakely T, et al. A petavoxel fragment of human cerebral cortex reconstructed at nanoscale resolution. Science . 2024;384(6696). doi: 10.1126/science.adk4858 Chalmers D. Strong and Weak Emergence. In: Clayton P, Davies P. The Re-Emergence of Emergence: The Emergentist Hypothesis from Science to Religion . Oxford University Press; 2008. Kitchener PD, Hales CG. What Neuroscientists Think, and Don’t Think, About Consciousness. Frontiers in Human Neuroscience . 2022;16. doi: 10.3389/fnhum.2022.767612 Goff P, William Seager, and Sean Allen-Hermanson. Panpsychism . The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Summer 2022. Seth AK, Bayne T. Theories of consciousness. Nature Reviews Neuroscience . 2022;23(7):439-52. doi: 10.1038/s41583-022-00587-4 Chalmers D. Facing up to the hard problem of consciousness . In: Shear J. Explaining Consciousness: The Hard Problem. MIT Press; 1997. Pugh GE. The Biological Origin of Human Values . Routledge & Kegan Paul; 1978. Descartes R. Principles of Philosophy . 1644. Previous article Next article Entwined back to

< Back to Issue 9 Ancient Asian Alchemy: Big Booms by Isaac Tian 28 October 2025 Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin Edited by Luci Ackland One question has plagued the human condition since the beginning of time: how can we escape death? Well, we certainly know who didn’t find the answer – the alchemists of ancient China. It’s 210 BC, and you are an alchemist standing before Emperor Qin Shi Huang in his court. You hand him an elixir supposed to grant him immortality and eternal reign. Only the serum contains what we now call “mercury” and if anything, you granted him mortality, as he drops dead before you (1). Where does one begin in this journey to immortality? How do we combine chemicals to find the perfect serum? Keep in mind, we have not even come close to establishing the periodic table at this point (no, that will occur about 1000 years later) (2). Saltpetre – or potassium nitrate – had been used extensively to treat common illnesses and to maintain good health. There’s our starting point (3). The search for this magic elixir persists for the next eleven centuries. We never give up… do we? The ingenuity of the alchemists spoke to them: it told them to mix in a few other ingredients to the saltpetre. With the trio of saltpetre, sulfur and charcoal, gunpowder was henceforth born into this world (4). The alchemists must have been in for a surprise when their “potion of immortality” sparked and exploded before them. So how does gunpowder explode? Why don’t other flammable items like match tips and dry wood explode when we set them alight? It comes down to a few key things. First is our perception of explosions. Chemicals don’t simply “explode” – it’s not an inherent quality of reactions – however, they can combust. Combustion is the release of energy from a fuel. Wood and matches combust, but they do so in a way that is relatively slower than gunpowder. Gunpowder combusts rapidly – so there is a large amount of energy release within a short period of time. Secondly, it’s about the availability of oxygen. Items that combust slowly typically have to wait for the oxygen to trickle in from the surrounding air, since oxygen is a critical component of combustion. This does not apply to gunpowder. The oxygen for its combustion is right there in the nitrate compound (of potassium nitrate – or saltpetre). So unlike burning wood or matches, the combustion does not need to wait for oxygen to arrive from the surrounding environment – it’s already in there with the rest of the powder (5)! To go further on that point: the closer the atoms are, the faster the combustion reaction can progress, because chemical compounds don’t need to wait long for the heat to get to them. Since gunpowder is… well… a powder, it’s rather compact and all the molecules of potassium nitrate, sulfur, and carbon sit tightly next to one another. It is this physical arrangement that permits the fast transfer of heat between molecules, ensuring that a lot of energy can be released at once. Ultimately, when all these physical and chemical phenomena occur in perfect unison, the high temperatures rapidly increase the kinetic energy of surrounding air molecules, causing them to shoot outwards at great speeds to form a “barrier” of sorts. When this barrier, also known as a shockwave, hits your eardrums, the gunpowder delivers what it does best: BOOM! Now, let’s combust some gunpowder, build up some gaseous pressure, and launch ourselves into the modern day. It’s been about twelve centuries – what have we been doing with all the gunpowder? As it turns out, we humans are very inventive, but also violent (Wow – who knew?). We quickly realised that the physical properties of the resulting gases can be harnessed to quickly move very heavy objects (6). Said heavy objects could then be guided in the direction of, say, a human being or a structure. Weaponry derived from gunpowder has existed for a very long time, albeit rather inefficient at first. The introduction of gunpowder to warfare came in the early 10th century, when soldiers applied gunpowder to arrows that would ignite and create fire arrows. Of course, whilst it might have been effective in creating a hole in humans, it was significantly less so when it came to creating holes in walls and structures. Only after 300 years did we then invent cannons and guns. However, those guns were slow – really, really slow – to the point that bows and arrows were actually preferred during warfare of that era. It would be another 600 years before we realised that there were more effective ways of reloading a gun; brandishing a new trend of military technology that would set the stage for the First and Second World Wars (7). By that point, the most terrifying of weapons had begun to stray away from the use of gunpowder. Missiles and rockets began employing other chemicals as propellants, owing to the advantage it had over gunpowder (7). It would also be remiss of this article to omit the exploitation of atomic power – pervading the world with such destruction that gunpowder appeared like a child’s toy (8). The tragic irony of a supposed innovation in immortality leading to mortality by war and conflict will forever embed itself into our history. Even with the right intentions, the invention by the great minds of alchemy has sparked a chain reaction for widespread destruction and warfare. It only makes you wonder – what are we making now that will lead us further astray in the future? References 1. Glancey J. The army that conquered the world. BBC. Accessed August 24, 2025. https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20170411-the-army-that-conquered-the-world 2. Guharay DM. A brief history of the periodic table. ASBMBTODAY. Accessed August 28, 2025. https://www.asbmb.org/asbmb-today/science/020721/a-brief-history-of-the-periodic-table 3. Butler A, Moffett J. Saltpetre in Early and Medieval Chinese Medicine. Asian Medicine . 2009;5(1):173-185. doi: 10.1163/157342109X568982 4. Paradowski, R.J. Invention of Gunpowder and Guns. EBSCO Research Starters. 2022. Accessed August 24, 2025. https://www.ebsco.com/research-starters/history/invention-gunpowder-and-guns 5. Stanford University. Detonation and Combustion. Stanford University. Accessed September 4, 2025. https://cs.stanford.edu/people/eroberts/courses/ww2/projects/firebombing/detonation-and-combustion.htm 6. Britannica. Ammunition | Bullets, Shells & Cartridges. Britannica. 2025. Accessed September 25, 2025. https://www.britannica.com/technology/ammunition 7. Beyer G. How Did Gunpowder Change Warfare? TheCollector. 2025. Accessed October 4, 2025. https://www.thecollector.com/how-did-gunpowder-change-warfare/ 8. ICAN. History of Nuclear Weapons. ICAN. Accessed October 4, 2025. https://www.icanw.org/nuclear_weapons_history Previous article Next article Entwined back to

< Back to Issue 9 Unravelling the Threads: From the Editors-in-Chief & Cover Illustrator by Ingrid Sefton, Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin & Anabelle Dewi Saraswati 28 October 2025 Illustrated by Anabelle Dewi Saraswati Edited by the Editor-in-Chiefs Innovation evolves, and perhaps what once made headlines becomes embodied in ourselves and in our universe. The science that we once saw is no longer visible, yet no less integral in the ways in which it governs our world. Like the strings of a puppet, scientific principles guide us and coordinate the patterns and movements which shape our daily lives. Yet equally, science encourages us to look behind the curtain in order to unravel the forces which pull on the strings of our universe. Following these rich threads of knowledge, so often taken for granted, this issue brings to the fore and celebrates the science that keeps our world running. An introspective chat with the brain, a journey along the production line that creates our much-loved daily cup of matcha, fundamental questions about how we seek and create knowledge: Entwined seeks to make explanations explicit and start conversations about the scientific mechanisms embedded in our lives. When we take the time to focus our gaze, encourage awe at the everyday and seek reflection over reaction – that’s when we start to disentangle the science that binds us; that which keeps us Entwined . Begin your immersion in the world of Entwined with Issue 9’s Cover Illustrator, Anabelle Dewi Saraswati , as she explains the vision and rationale behind her work. “I found myself drawn to the world of Art Nouveau for these cover illustrations, captivated by the way forms seem to grow into each other, sharing meaning and life, much like the theme of ‘Entwined’ itself. There is something magical about that moment in history, where art, architecture, and science all seemed to bleed into one another, each discipline borrowing and lending, rooted in the emphasis on the beauty of nature after the coldness created by the Industrial Revolution. That sense of crossover felt like the perfect encapsulation for this issue, derived from pictorial history. The way feminine figures and flowing hair seem to melt into vines and leaves, everything tangled together in a quiet conversation. The motion and sense of growth, but also its hidden mathematical precision required to produce such beautiful curving forms. Art Nouveau captured how the artificial and natural worlds are always weaving into each other, inseparable. I wanted to draw from that imagery in a way that acknowledges its history I return to my architectural roots in structure, composition and line with my approach in building these pieces. The signage piece is fully hand-drawn and deliberate – reflecting the craft and typographic precision of the era. The collage is a layering of textures and fragments, letting ideas overlap and bleed into each other, much like memories and histories do. A way to begin the issue visually to trace the growth of worlds as they intertwine. Paying homage to the harmony between the natural and the human-made, to reflect on how we are shaped by the places we inhabit, the histories we inherit, and the stories we choose to keep alive.” Previous article Next article Entwined back to

Issue 9: Entwined 28 October 2025 This issue takes a moment to revel in the science that surrounds us. Come walk the tangled paths less followed, who knows what you may come across! Editorial Unravelling the Threads: From the Editors-in-Chief & Cover Illustrator by Ingrid Sefton, Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin & Anabelle Dewi Saraswati A word from the Editors-in-Chief, and fascinating insights into this issue's cover. Knot theory Knot Theory and Its Applications. Why Knot? by Ryan Rud Untangle the knot theory with Ryan to reveal the role of this mathematical marvel in our everyday life. Hugging Entwined: A Hug Story by Elise Volpato Embrace the physiology, psychology and cultural complexities of hugs, as Elise opens us up to their undeniable benefits. Geological time periods Enter . . . the Anthropocene? by Rita Fortune Rita digs into questions of how and where we can draw a line in the sand, in attempts to disentangle a new geological time period. Cosmic matter The Cosmos in Our Palms: A Reflection of Our Cosmic Origins by Mishen De Silva Gain a new appreciation with Mishen of how the beauty and mystery of the cosmos is not just among us, but within us. Humans of UniMelb Rewilding Our Cities with Dr Kylie Soanes by Ciara Dahl Uncover life behind and between the concrete jungle, as Ciara talks all things urban ecology with Dr Kylie Soanes. Brain connectome Conferring with Consciousness by Ingrid Sefton Me, myself and my brain - Ingrid traverses the neural paths that comprise the conscious experience. Journey of food The Life of Matcha by Kara Miwa-Dale Delicately grown, globally consumed: Kara evaluates the intersection of matcha's deep-rooted social importance with physical health and current trends. Gunpowder Ancient Asian Alchemy: Big Booms by Isaac Tian Aiming for immortality, landing at gunpowder? Isaac explores how a quest for life is fundamentally entangled in the alchemy of gunpowder. Classical biology Eyeballs, a Knife, and No Fear of God by Jess Walton Travel back in time with Jess to meet the early anatomists who helped pioneer the arduous and neverending human quest to seek answers from deep within ourselves. Literally speaking, that is. Axolotls Axolotl: The Little God of the Lake by Danny He Dive into the history, habitat, and hardhsips of your favourite frilly friends. Axolotls are so much more than a cute face, and time may be running out to save them. Camouflage Living Pixels by KJ Srivastava Uncovering the science behind camouflaging creatures that have no eyes makes this trick no less magical, as KJ reveals. Pacific Island futures Human-Cetacean Relations by Andrew Irvin Taking us to Tonga, Andrew tells a tale of a musician swimming between the worlds of communication, marine science and a future for Pacific Islands. Philosophy of science It’s Dangerous to Go Alone by Julia Lockerd Join Julia to debate the importance of epistemic and social relationships in the development of modern science. Perceptions of time Time Perception – The Chaos Binding Your World Together by Furqan Mohsin Spend a moment with Furqan considering how our perception of time strings us together, yet fundamentally pulls us apart.

< Back to Issue 8 What Do Women Want? by Madeleine Kelly 3 June 2025 Edited by Rita Fortune Illustrated by May Du What do women want? Well, according to scientific research… more data is needed. As it turns out, women are a mystery to science. This mystery stems from the lack of representation of women in scientific research, both as the researcher and the subject. In its stead, sexist assumptions have leaked in and clouded results. This has very real, very scary consequences – and not just for us humans! From women to female birds and mammals, science has a habit of ignoring half the population. This gap exists in many fields, but for now let’s focus on medicine, where women are (quite literally) getting sick of being excluded. Historically, medicine hasn’t been kind to women, going all the way back to the Ancient Greeks where philosophers ingrained sexism into stone. Aristotle, considered the founder of many disciplines in Western culture including biology, thought women incomplete, “mutilated male(s)” (1). Plato, just as revered, stated that women were corrupted by a “wandering womb” – an angry uterus that would drift around the body causing all types of disease (2). The influence of these hot takes on women have shaped the fields of biology and medicine for centuries. Now we’ve ended up with a healthcare system designed by and designed for men. Looking at slightly more recent history, women weren’t included in clinical trials until the 1990s, even when looking into conditions that were specific to women (3). In the early 1960s researchers wanted to examine how the likelihood of heart disease could be decreased amongst menopausal women through hormone supplements (4). They had a respectable sample size of participants for the trials: 8,341 people. Were any of them women? No, of course not. This bias persists today. On average, only 41.2% of participants in clinical trials are female, well below their actual representation amongst patients (5). A 2022 study examined more than 20,000 clinical trials from the past 20 years and found that trials in oncology, neurology, immunology and nephrology had the lowest female representation relative to the likelihood that women would develop the disease (6). In psychiatry, as not even one of the worst fields, women still only made up 42% of trial participants, yet comprised 60% of the patients (5). Women of colour, queer women and trans women are even more marginalised in medical research (7, 8). A regular justification researchers use for excluding cis women is that their menstrual cycles would interfere with the reliability of results (which, by the way, has been proven to be unfounded) (9). This hasn’t stopped them from claiming that their results can be universally applied. Given their systematic exclusion from scientific study, it is no wonder that women are more likely to be misdiagnosed for common conditions such as a heart attack and stroke, and experience adverse side effects from medications, at twice the rate of men (3). During the period from 1997 to 2000, ten prescription drugs were taken off the market by the US Food and Drug Administration. Of these, eight posed greater health risks to women compared to men – risks which could have been caught in the trial stage if they had just included more women (10). Women are also more likely to have their physical symptoms be blamed on mental health issues — because that’s apparently better than doctors having to admit we simply don’t know how women work (11). This knowledge gap extends beyond medical research, and indeed beyond the human world. Females of all species have become victims of sexist attitudes. This is partially owed to the work of famous naturalist Charles Darwin. In his book, The Descent of Man, and Selection in Relation to Sex (1871), he labelled the female as "passive" and “coy” (12). It is the males who drive evolution, he declared. Males are the competitive ones, fighting each other and showing off their glamour in order to win the female. According to Darwin, the role of females in the animal kingdom was only to submit. Scientists that followed seemed to have a persistent case of confirmation bias. They actively looked for evidence and manipulated results to support their belief that females were monogamous, pacifistic doting mothers. This was exactly the case when in the 1990s two researchers, John Marzluff and Russell Balda, went to study the social hierarchies of the pinyon jay, Gymnorhinus cyanocephalus (13). Native to Western America, the males of this small bird go against Darwin’s claim by being absolute chillers; they don’t like to fight. Desperate to prove Darwin right, the researchers set up feeders with sweet treats to entice competition between the males. The males still refused to go up in arms. This left the researchers searching for some evidence, any evidence, that Darwin’s theory was still correct. So they claimed that there was aggressive competition between the males played out through… passive aggressive side glances. These ‘fights’ of dirty looks must have been absolutely riveting as the researchers documented over two thousand of them, stealing the show from the actual violent battles perpetrated by the females. The girlies were recorded locked in mid-air fights and stabbing each other with their beaks (yawn). This behaviour was explained away as an “avian equivalent of PMS” and that there was “little doubt that adult males are in aggressive control” (13). The myth that females are passive has been shown time and time again to be false. There are certainly some females that play this role, but just like humans, the animal kingdom is diverse. There are plenty of examples that show that females are just as impressive, competitive and violent, and all are worthy of investigation. Female topi antelopes compete for males, the female Jacana bird leaves eggs with their stay-at-home dads and matriarchal grandmother orcas pass on brutal hunting techniques to the next generation (13). Even though the myth has been busted, the consequences of it still echo in research. In 2019, it was found that there was a male bias in international natural history museum collections of mammals and birds, especially for famous name-bearing species (13). For these species, only 27% of bird and 39% of mammal types collected were female. Any studies conducted on these collections are not representative of the whole species. Given the rapid global biodiversity decline we find ourselves facing, having an accurate understanding of more than the human world has never been more important. This requires us to recognise the sexism in our studies. I know first hand that this is not simple, such as when I realised even I had internalised sexist attitudes towards animals. It took me until I was 25 to realise that the shark from the movie Jaws (1975) was meant to be a girl (15). I had just assumed (much like the director Steven Spielberg) bigger shark equals boy shark. Science doesn’t operate in a vacuum. It is not immune to society and politics, and unfortunately this has meant results can be shaped by prejudice. How do we fix this? Is there a cure for medical misogyny and can we finally discover the female species in the wild? There is no single solution, but we have many options on the table. Getting more women into STEM and leadership roles, transparency in data collection – especially being upfront about disclosing whether or not both sexes were included – and more funding for women’s health research are all essential steps (9). Already there are badass scientists out there dismantling sexist beliefs, who are armed with data and persistence (13). I also think a crucial step is to remember that knowledge is not pure. It can contain bias. As the next generation of researchers, we have a responsibility to question the assumptions baked into our methods, our questions and even our definitions of what counts as valid research. This kind of introspective, self-critical work isn’t just about academic integrity. It could save lives. So, what do women want? Aside from going back in time to set a couple ancient philosophers and a certain naturalist straight, we want you to ask us – and to never assume you know the answer before doing so. References Horowitz, MC. Aristotle and Woman. J History of Biology [Internet]. 1976 [cited 2025 May 25]; 9(2):183-213. Available from http://www.jstor.org/stable/4330651 . Adair, MJ. Plato’s View of the ‘Wandering Uterus’. The Classical Journal [Internet]. 1996 Jan [cited 2025 May 25]; 91(2): 153-163. Available from https://www.jstor.org/stable/3298478 . Why we know so little about women’s health [Internet]. Blach, B: AAMC; 2024 [cited 2025 May 25]. Available from https://www.aamc.org/news/why-we-know-so-little-about-women-s-health Dusenbery, M. New York (US): HarperCollins; 2018. Sosinsky, AZ., Rich-Edwards, JW., Wiley, A., Wright, K., Spagnolo, PA. & Joffe, H. Enrollment of female participants in United States drug and device phase 1-3 clinical trials between 2016 and 2019. Contemp Clin Trials [Internet]. 2022 Apr [cited 2025 May 25]; 115: 106718. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cct.2022.106718 Steinberg, JR., Turner, BE., Weeks, BT., Magnani, CJ., Wong, BO., Rodriguez, F., Yee, LM & Cullen, MR. Analysis of Female Enrollment and Participant Sex by Burden of Disease in US Clinical Trials Between 2000 and 2020. AMA Netw Open [Internet]. 2021 Jun [cited 2025 May 25]: 4(6):e2113749. Available from: https: doi.org/10.1001/jamanetworkopen.2021.13749 Bierer, BE., Meloney, LG., Ahmed, HR. & White, SA. Advancing the inclusion of underrepresented women in clinical research. Cell Rep Med [Internet]. 2022 Mar [cited 2025 May 25]; 3(4): 100553. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.xcrm.2022.100553 Kelly, T & Rodriguez, SB. Expanding Underrepresented in Medicine to Include Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trasgender, and Queer Individuals. Acad Med [Internet]. 2022 Nov [cited 2025 May 25]; 97(11) 1605-1609. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1097/ACM.0000000000004720 Beery, AK. & Zucker, I. Sex Bias in Neuroscience and Biomedical Research. Neurosci Biobehav Rev [Internet]. 2010 Jul [cited 2025 May 25]; 35(3): 565-572. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.neubiorev.2010.07.002 . Carey, JL., Nader, N., Chai, PR., Carreiro, S., Griswold, MK. & Boyle KL. Drugs and Medical Devices: Adverse Events and the Impact on Women’s Health [Internet]. 2018 Jan [cited 2025 May 25]; 39(1): 10-22. Available from: https://doi.org/10.1016/j.clinthera.2016.12.009 Jackson, G. Pain and Prejudice. Crows Nest (AUS): Allen & Unwin; 2019. Cohen, C. Darwin on woman. Comptes Rendus Biologies [Internet]. 2010 Feb [cited 2025 May 25]; 333(2): 157-165. Available from https://doi.org/10.1016/j.crvi.2009.12.003 Cooke, L. Bitch: What does it mean to be female? London (UK): Penguin Books; 2022. Cooper, N. Bond, AJ., Davis, JL., Miguez, RP., Tomsett, L & Helgen, KM. Sex bias in bird and mammal natural history collections. Proc. R. Soc. B. [Internet]. 2019 Oct [cited 2025 May 25]; 286: 20192025. Available from https://doi.org/10.1098/rspb.2019.2025 What did Hollywood get wrong about great white sharks in Jaws? [Internet]. Ladgrove, P. & Smith, B: ABC News; 2024 [cited 2025 May 25]. Available from: https://www.abc.net.au/news/science/2024-11-16/jaws-what-did-hollywood-get-wrong-shark-attack-humans/104538116 Previous article Next article Enigma back to

< Back to Issue 5 On the Folklore of Fossils Ethan Bisogni 24 October 2023 Edited by Arwen Nguyen-Ngo Illustrated by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin We inhabit an incredible world, one shaped by the ancient mysteries of our past and the imaginative stories they inspire. Throughout human history, we have tried to comprehend the bigger picture - using mythology and science to explain the presence of any natural phenomena we can observe. Between the movement of the stars and shape of the land, most scientific explanations of our world share a fascinating mythical counterpart. One particular area of science that has been bestowed with some truly incredible folklore is palaeontology. A History of Palaeontology To best understand some of the amazing mythologies surrounding fossils, we should first briefly explore the history of modern palaeontology. Some of the earliest attempts at understanding fossils can be seen in ancient Greece and Rome, where philosophers such as Herodotus understood that the presence of petrified shells indicated the recession of a past marine environment (Forli & Guerrini, 2022a). However, much of the groundwork for modern palaeontology was only developed in the late 17th century (Boudreau et al., 2023). Regarded as one of the most influential figures in modern geology, Nicholas Steno had outlined the Principles of Stratigraphy in his 1669 Dissertationis Prodromus - to be used as a jumping board for many earth scientists to come (Berthault, 2022). In the early 1800’s, William Smith had utilised his fossil knowledge to differentiate and match layers of rock known as strata, published in Strata Identified by Organised Fossils (Scott, 2008). And perhaps one of the largest contributions to modern palaeontology, Darwin's theory of evolution outlined in On the Origin of Species allowed for natural scientists to better understand the evolution of species throughout time. Considering how much of what we know about modern palaeontology was only published in the last 350 years, it becomes clear why so many cultures had developed their own interesting interpretations of fossils. From magical spells to infernal beasts, these legends highlight the prominent ideologies of their time. So let us explore some of the more interesting and diverse fossil myths from the ages. Merlinia To start, we will be discussing the folklore origin of Merlinia, an extinct genus of trilobite from the Early Ordivician age, 470 million years ago (British Geological Survey, n.d.). Trilobites were small sea-faring invertebrates who first appeared following the Cambrian Explosion, and were prominent throughout the fossil record until their unfortunate extinction 250 million years ago during the Late Permian mass extinction (American Museum of Natural History, n.d.). According to the British Geological Survey, this genus of trilobite was extensively found throughout the rocks of Carmarthen - a Welsh town famous for being the supposed birthplace of Merlin, the legendary wizard and advisor to King Arthur (‘P550303’, 2009). Often mistaken by the townspeople as stone butterflies, these fossils were naturally attributed to Merlin and thought to be the product of a petrification spell (American Museum of Natural History, n.d.). Whilst disheartening for the butterflies, the real trilobites behind the myth likely faced a much more wicked and sorrowful demise. Snakestones Much like Merlinia, snakestones were also named after a prominent figure with a habit for turning creatures to stone. Saint Hilda of Whitby was the abbess of the local town monastery during the sixteen hundreds, and was widely credited for the creation of these fossils - which are otherwise known as Hildoceras, after herself (Lotzof, n.d.). With the town facing a plague of snakes, St Hilda was said to have performed a miracle that petrified the serpents and forced them to coil into the fossils we see today (National Museums Scotland, n.d.). These stony serpents however are really just ammonites, a group of molluscs that went extinct alongside the dinosaurs 66 million years ago (Osterloff, n.d.). The legend of St Hilda isn’t the only instance of snake-repellent folklore either, with St Patrick earning himself a holiday after supposedly clearing the snakes out of Ireland. Much of the rise of European anguine-based legends can be attributed to growing Christian influences during the second millennium. The biblical depiction of snakes as tempting and disingenuous has caused them to be portrayed harshly throughout older western media (Migdol, 2021). Unsurprisingly, this isn't the only time that palaeontology and Christianity have crossed paths. The Devil Perhaps the most infamous figure in human culture, the Devil is outlined in Christian doctrine as the embodiment of sin and evil. References to their influence can be found throughout human history, and have naturally found their way into geological folklore. Many geological features have been attributed to a satanic presence, thought to be remnants from when the Devil would walk the earth (Forli & Guerrini, 2022b). Gryphaea was a fossil widely mistaken as the authentic nails of Satan himself, hence nicknamed the ‘Devil’s Nails’, and was used as a proxy to determine areas of evil (Forli & Guerrini, 2022b). However, these fossils were not the byproduct of Satan’s occasional beauty treatments, but rather an extinct genus of mollusc from the early Jurassic, 200 million years ago (Forli & Guerrini, 2022b). Nail clippings were not the only features observed that people considered to be a sign of the Devil’s unholy pilgrimage. Devilish hoof-shaped steps embedded into stone have been reported throughout the world. Referred to as ‘il-passi tax-xitan’ by the Maltese, meaning ‘the devil's footsteps’, these tracks were considered further proof of the Devil's presence amongst mankind (Duffin & Davidson, 2011). In Malta these footprints were really just fossilised echinoids - innocent former sea urchins facing unkind accusations of being demonic (Duffin & Davidson, 2011). That's not to say all Maltese fossils were considered unholy: some 16th century priests conversely believed them to be the footsteps of St Paul the Apostle, following his shipwrecking on the island in the 1st century (Mayor & Sarjeant, 2001). Dragons Dragons are some of the most well known mythical creatures, with many cultures around the world having their own rendition of a mystic dragon-like beast. Unlike some of the other legends explored so far, it is unlikely that fossilised remains were the initial cause of this myth, but were rather used as evidence to cement it in truth. Dragons were considered prominent creatures throughout the Indian mountains, with evidence of dragon hunts being displayed in the ancient city of Paraka (Mayor, 2000). Apollonius of Tyana, a 1st century Greek philosopher, was said to have observed these dragons during his passage through the Siwalik Hills - an Indian range known for its preservation of larger fossils (Mayor, 2000). Described by Apollonius as considerable tusked creatures, these dragon remains were more than likely the fossils of extinct elephants and giraffids - such as Elephas hysudricus or Sivatherium giganteum (Mayor, 2000). India is not the only country to have experienced this phenomenon either, with many Asian and European societies said to have also continuously misdiagnose large vertebrate fossils as dragon bones. Whether it is mischievous spellcasting or the indication of a demonic evil, myths surrounding fossils have existed throughout centuries of human society. These legends provide a fascinating window into the creative minds of past cultures, and their beliefs at the time. While modern palaeontologists have proven these legends to be no more than captivating stories, it is important to view this folklore with a certain understanding and respect. These early attempts at trying to understand the world around us provides an interesting insight into human nature, and our innate desire to search for answers. References American Museum of Natural History. (n.d.) End of the Line - The demise of the Trilobites . American Museum of Natural History. https://www.amnh.org/research/paleontology/collections/fossil-invertebrate-collection/trilobite-website/trilobite-localities/end-of-the-line-the-demise-of-the-trilobites Berthault, G. (2002). Analysis of Main Principles of Stratigraphy on the Basis of Experimental Data . Lithology and Mineral Resources, 22(5), 442-446. https://doi.org/10.1023/A:1020220232661 Boudreau, D., McDaniel, M., Sprout, E., & Turgeon, A. (2023). Paleontology . National Geographic Society. https://education.nationalgeographic.org/resource/paleontology/ British Geological Survey (n.d.). Trilobites . https://www.bgs.ac.uk/discovering-geology/fossilsand-geological-time/trilobites/ Duffin, C. J., & Davidson, J. P. (2011). Geology and the dark side . Proceedings of the Geologists’ Association, 122(1), 7-15. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.pgeola.2010.08.002 Forli, M., & Guerrini, A. (2022). Bivalvia: Devil’s Nails, Reflections Between Superstition and Science. In The History of Fossils Over Centuries (pp. 181-206). Springer, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-04687-2_2 Forli, M., & Guerrini, A. (2022). Fossilia and Fossils: Considerations on Their Understanding Over the Centuries . In The History of Fossils Over Centuries (pp. 5-25). Springer, Cham. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-031-04687-2_12 Lotzof, K. (n.d.). Snakestones: The Myth, Magic, and Science of Ammonites . Natural History Museum. https://www.nhm.ac.uk/discover/snakestones-ammonites-myth-magic-science.html Mayor, A. (2000). CHAPTER 3 Ancient Discoveries of Giant Bones . In The First Fossil Hunters (pp. 104-156). Princeton University Press. https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt7s6mm.11 Mayor, A., & Sarjeant, W.A.S. (2001). The Folklore of Footprints in Stone: From Classical Antiquity to the Present . An International Journal for Plant and Animal Traces, 8(2), 143-163. https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt7s6mm.11 Migdol, E., Morrison, E., & Grollemond, L. (2021). What Did People Believe about Animals in the Middle Ages? Getty Conservation Institute. https://www.getty.edu/news/what-did-people-believe-about-animals-in-the-middle-ages/ National Museums Scotland (n.d.). Snakestones . https://www.nms.ac.uk/explore-our- collections/stories/natural-sciences/fossil-tales/fossil-tales-menu/snakestones/ Osterloff, E. (n.d.). What Is an Ammonite? Natural History Museum. https://www.nhm.ac.uk/discover/what-is-an-ammonite.html P550303. (2009). British Geological Survey . http://geoscenic.bgs.ac.uk/asset- bank/action/viewAsset?id=113713&index=4&total=6&view=viewSearchItem Scott, M. (2008). William Smith (1769-1839) . NASA Earth Observatory. https://earthobservatory.nasa.gov/features/WilliamSmith Wicked back to

Science Ethics Should We Protect Our Genetic Information? By Grace Law What is a top story that has been brewing in our news in recent months? This column provides an introduction to the topic and why we should care about it. For this issue, our focus is on the security of our genetic and biometric data. Edited by Juulke Castelijn & Khoa-Anh Tran Issue 1: September 24, 2021 Illustration by Aisyah Mohammad Sulhanuddin Our genetic and biometric data, like DNA and fingerprints, make each of us unique and identifiable. This information is invaluable in allowing us to verify our identity, predict personal characteristics, identify medical conditions, and trace our ancestry. But there are consequences we should be aware of when we are sharing this data. It is often not known exactly what our information is used for. We must make a more informed decision about the services we obtain in exchange for our biometric and genetic information. The unknown consequences of medical tests Most of us would not hesitate to get a blood or genetic test. These tests have been instrumental in allowing us to identify genetic abnormalities, monitor our health, and provide peace of mind in pregnancies. However, some companies and 3rd parties have exploited the trust patients placed in them to analyse these data beyond the original medical intentions. Reuters reported in July 2021 of a Chinese gene company, BGI, using leftover genetic data from their prenatal test to research population traits (1). The test is sold in at least 52 countries to detect abnormalities like Down’s syndrome in the fetus but it also captures genetic and personal information about the mother. The company confirmed that leftover blood samples are used for population research, and the test’s privacy policy states that data collected can be shared when “directly relevant to national security or national defence security” in China (2). This is not the only instance of genetic data being exploited by a state for mass examination and surveillance purposes. The Australian Strategic Policy Institute (ASPI) published a research paper identifying the Chinese Government Ministry of Public Security’s mass DNA collection campaigns on millions of men and boys (3). It aims to ‘comprehensively improve public security organs’ ability to solve cases, and manage and control society’ (4). Certainly such databases are useful to forensic investigations, but the mass collection of genetic data raises serious human rights concerns regarding ownership, privacy and consent. Furthermore, it opens the possibility of surveillance by the government (5). Everyone should be giving fully informed consent for the usage of their genetic information in accordance with international human rights law (6). ‘At-home’ genetic kits are not guaranteed to be secure Although there is no evidence of such scales of surveillance in Australia, we are not immune to exploitation and questionable practices. Direct-to-consumer (DIC) genetic tests are widely available, often through online purchases. These tests advertise as being able to indicate predisposition to various diseases, including diabetes, breast cancer and heart disease (7). However, as these processes don’t always involve the advice and interpretation of a doctor, there are concerns that data may be analysed beyond current medical understanding. Misinformation, such as misdiagnosis or exaggeration of the certainty of the user’s health conditions, can cause unnecessary anxiety. The discovery of medical predispositions can have ongoing consequences, including refusal of coverage from insurance companies and discrimination by society (8). Under the US Genetic Information Nondiscrimination Act, employees cannot discriminate against employers on the basis of genetic information. Australia currently relies on existing Commonwealth, state and territory anti-discrimination laws to protect against discrimination in public domains (9). Companies are also not regulated by the law in what they do with the information collected. Many have been found to use the information beyond providing results to consumers, such as for internal research and development, or providing it to third parties without additional consent (10). Ancestry tests are another type of DIC test facing similar scrutiny. As we all share genetic information with our relatives, these tests allow us to identify distant relatives, and even help solve mysteries and capture a serial killer (11). Testing companies therefore have portions of genetic information from relatives without needing to obtain their consent, as well as being able to identify familial lineages. These examples highlight the difficulty of protecting consumer privacy and maintaining ownership of our genetic information. The daily convenience of biometric data and its unintended side-effects Most of us do not encounter the aforementioned tests daily, but we often use our biometric data in many aspects of our lives. As technology advances, fingerprint readers, facial scanners, and even retina/iris scanners are available on our phones to replace traditional PINs. These have been widely adopted due to their convenience. However, our security is being compromised in the process. Not only is your device easier to hack compared to passwords, but the collection of biometric data can also be illegally obtained from improper storage (12, 13). We cannot change our biometric data like a password. Once it is compromised, it is beyond our control. Meanwhile, technology is advancing to include new types of biometric data like voice recognition, hand geometry and behaviour characteristics. As our lives become more public through social media, others may be using this opportunity to collect more information. TikTok’s update on its privacy policy recently included permission to gather physical and behavioural characteristics, but it is unclear what it is being used for (14). These examples highlight why we should be aware of the consequences and compromisation we make in using biometric data for daily convenience. Looking to the future There is certainly no shortage of interest in our genetic information and biometric data. Unfortunately, current legislation is fairly general and therefore not equipped to deal with the variety of issues that emerge with specific technologies. Exacerbating this effect are the continual advances made in this technology, with the law simply not keeping up. But that does not mean we are helpless. A landmark case found that an Australian worker being fired for refusing to use a fingerprint scanner at work was unjust (15). This shows our rights over our genetic information are still in our own hands. While we should be vigilant at all times, it should not deter us from accessing the necessary medical tests or saving us a few seconds each time we access our phones. It is more important to protect ourselves: be aware of our rights, the policies we are consenting to, and the possible implications of a service. Whilst appropriate legislation still needs to be developed, we can hold companies accountable for their policies. We should also be critical in whether we publicise all of our information, and be cognizant of the way our data is stored. This is an instance where we really should read the terms and conditions before accepting. References: 1 . Needham, Kirsty and Clare Baldwin. “Special report: China’s gene giant harvests data from millions of women.” Reuters, July 8, 2021. https://www.reuters.com/legal/litigation/chinas-gene-giant-harvests-data-millions-women-2021-07-07/ . 2. Australian Broadcasting Corporation. “China’s BGI group using prenatal test developed with Chinese military to harvest gene data.” July 8, 2021. https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-07-08/prenatal-test-bgi-group-china-genetic-data-harvesting/100276700 . 3. Dirks, Emile and James Leibold. Genomic surveillance: Inside China’s DNA dragnet. Barton, ACT: Australian Strategic Policy Institute, 17 June, 2020. https://www.aspi.org.au/report/genomic-surveillance . 4. Renmin Net. “Hubei Yunxi police helped to solve a 20-year-old man’s duplicated household registration issue.” 18 November, 2021. https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-07-08/prenatal-test-bgi-group-china-genetic-data-harvesting/100276700 . 5. Wee, Sui-Lee. “China is Collecting NDA From Tens of Millions of Men and Boys, Using U.S. Equipment.” 17 July, 2020. https://www.nytimes.com/2020/06/17/world/asia/China-DNA-surveillance.html . 6. United Nations Human Rights Office of the High Commissioner. Universal Declaration on the Human Genome and Human Rights. Paris, France: United Nations, 11 November, 1997. https://www.ohchr.org/en/professionalinterest/pages/humangenomeandhumanrights.aspx . 7. Norrgard, Karen. “DTC genetic testing for diabetes, breast cancer, heart disease and paternity,” Nature Education 1, 1(2008): 86. https://www.nature.com/scitable/topicpage/dtc-genetic-testing-for-diabetes-breast-cancer-698/. 8, 10. Consumer Reports. “The privacy risks of at-home DNA tests.” Washington Post, September 14, 2020. https://www.washingtonpost.com/health/dna-tests-privacy-risks/2020/09/11/6a783a34-d73b-11ea-9c3b-dfc394c03988_story.html . 9. National Health and Medical Research Council. Genetic Discrimination. Canberra, Australia: November, 2013. https://www.nhmrc.gov.au/about-us/publications/genetic-discrimination. 11. Jeong, Raehoon. “How direct-to-consumer genetic testing services led to the capture of the golden state killer.” Science in the News, 2 September, 2018. https://sitn.hms.harvard.edu/flash/2018/direct-consumer-genetic-testing-services-led-capture-golden-state-killer/ . 12. Lee, Alex. “Why you should never use pattern passwords on your phone.” Wired UK, 3 July, 2020. https://www.wired.co.uk/article/phone-lock-screen-password . 13. Johansen, Alison Grace. “Biometrics and biometric data: What is it and is it secure?” NortonLifeLock, 8 February, 2019. https://us.norton.com/internetsecurity-iot-biometrics-how-do-they-work-are-they-safe.html . 14. McCluskey, M. “TikTok Has Started Collecting Your ‘Faceprints’ and ‘Voiceprints.’ Here’s What It Could Do With Them.” Time, 14 June, 2021. https://time.com/6071773/tiktok-faceprints-voiceprints-privacy/ . 15. Perper, Rosie. “An Australian worker won a landmark privacy case against his employer after he was fired for refusing to use a fingerprint scanner.” Business Insider Australia, 22 May, 2019. https://www.businessinsider.com.au/australian-worker-wins-privacy-case-against-employer-biometric-data-2019-5?r=US&IR=T.

< Back to Issue 7 A Coral’s Story: From thriving reef to desolation by Nicola Zuzek-Mayer 22 October 2024 edited by Arwen Nguyen-Ngo illustrated by Amanda Agustinus The sun is shining. Shoals of fish are zooming past me, leaving their nests where I let them stay for protection from bigger fish. I look to my right and the usual fish have come to dine from me, filling their bellies with vital nutrients. I feel proud of our coexistence: I feed the big fish and provide shelter to small fish, whilst they clean algae off of me. I am the foundation of the reef. I am the architect of the reef. Without me, there would be nothing. I can’t help but think that the reef is looking vibrant today. A wide variety of different coloured corals surround me in the reef, with some of my closest friends a stone’s throw away. We’ve all known each other for our entire lives, and it’s such a close knit community of diverse corals. Life is sprawling in this underwater metropolis, and it reminds me of how much I love my home. But recently, I’ve heard some gossip amongst the city’s inhabitants that this paradise may change soon – and for the worse. Something about the land giants destroying our home. I refuse to believe such rumours – why would they want to destroy us? Our home is so beautiful, and we have done nothing to hurt them. Our beauty attracts many of them to come visit us, and most never hurt us. But sometimes I feel pain when they visit on a particularly sunny day, when I see white particles drop down to the reef and pierce my branches, polluting the city. My friends have told me that these giants wear something called ‘sunscreen’ to protect themselves from the sun, but their ‘protection’ is actually poisoning us. I hope that they realise that soon. Another thing that I’ve noticed recently is that the ocean is feeling slightly warmer than before, and my growth is slowing more. Yes, I’m concerned, but I don’t think that the issue will get worse. 30 years later… The sun is blisteringly hot. I feel sick and the water around me is scorching hot. The vibrant colours of the reef are disappearing, and there are fewer organisms around. We used to be so diverse, but so many species of fish have died out. It’s eerie to see the area so desolate. My body is deteriorating and I feel so much more fragile than before. I feel tired all the time, after using so much energy to repair my body in the acidic water. I sense myself becoming paler, losing all colour in my body. I struggle to breathe. My coral friends and family are long gone, perished from the acidity of the ocean. I am the last one remaining. In my last moments, I can only wish to go and relive the past. I wish that the land giants had done more to help not only my city, but other reef cities around the world. All the other cities are empty now, and all ecosystems are long gone. If only someone had helped our dying world. Previous article Next article apex back to

Have you ever wondered if trees talk to each other? Happily, many scientists across time have had the same thought. So much fascinating knowledge has arisen from their research about the intricacies of trees and the different ways they converse with one another. Chatter Silent Conversations: How Trees Talk to One Another By Lily McCann There are so many conversations that go on beyond our hearing. This column explores communication between trees and how it might change the way we perceive them. Edited by Ethan Newnham, Irene Lee & Niesha Baker Issue 1: September 24, 2021 Illustration by Rachel Ko It’s getting brighter. A long, long winter is receding and warm days are flooding in. I’m not one for sunbathing, but I love to lie in the backyard in the shade of the gums and gaze up into the branches. They seem to revel in the weather as much as I do, waving arms languidly in the light or holding still as if afraid to lose a single ray of sun. If there’s a breeze, you might just be able to hear them whispering to one another. There’s a whole family of these gums in my backyard and each one is different. I can picture them as distinctly as the faces of people I love. One wears a thick, red coat of shaggy bark; another has pale, smooth skin; a third sheds its outer layer in long, stringy filaments that droop like scarves from its limbs. These different forms express distinct personalities. Gum trees make you feel there is more to them than just wood and leaves. There’s a red gum in Central Victoria called the ‘Maternity Tree’. It’s incredible to look at. The huge trunk is hollowed out and forms a sort of alcove or belly, open to the sky. Generations of Dja Dja Wurrung women have sought shelter here when in labour. An arson attack recently blackened the trunk and lower branches, but the tree survived (1). Such trees have incredibly long, rich lives. Imagine all the things they would say, if they could only tell us their stories. Whilst the ‘whispering’ of foliage in the wind may not have significance beyond its symbolism, there are other kinds of communication trees can harness. All we see when a breeze blows are branches and leaves swaying before it, but all the time a plethora of tiny molecules are pouring out from trees into the air. These compounds act like tiny, encrypted messages riding the wind, to be decoded by neighbours. They can carry warnings about unwanted visitors, or even coordinate group projects like flowering, so that trees can bloom in synchrony. If we turn our gaze lower we can see that more dialogue spreads below ground. Trees have their own telephone cable system (7), linking up members of the same and even different species. This system takes the form of fungal networks, which transfer nutrients and signals between trees (3). Unfortunately, subscription to this network isn’t free: fungi demand a sugar supply for their services. Overall, though, the relationship is beneficial to both parties and allows for an effective form of underground communication in forests. These conversations are not restricted to deep-rooted, leaf-bearing beings: trees are multilingual. A whole web of inter-species dialogue murmurs amongst the branches beyond the grasp of our deaf ears. Through the language of scent, trees entice pollinators such as bees and birds to feed on their nectar and spread their pollen (4). They warn predators against attacking by releasing certain chemicals (5). They can even manipulate other species for their own defence: when attacked by wax scale insects, a Persimmon tree calls up its own personal army by alerting ladybugs, who feed on the scales, averting the threat to the tree (6). Such relationships demonstrate the crucial role trees play in local ecosystems and their essentially cooperative natures. Trees can be very altruistic, especially when it comes to family members. Mother trees foster the growth of young ones by providing nutrients, and descendants support their elderly relatives - even corpses of hewn-down trees - through their underground cable systems. These intimate, extensive connections between trees are not so different from our own societal networks. Do trees, too, have communities, family loyalties, friends? Can they express the qualities of love and trust required, in the human world, for such relationships? This thought begs the question: Can trees feel? They certainly have an emotional impact on us. I can sense it as I lie under the gums. Think about the last time you went hiking, sat in a tree’s shade, walked through a local park. There’s something about being amongst trees that calms and inspires. Science agrees: one study has shown that walking in forests is more beneficial to our health than walking through the city. How do trees manage to have such a strong effect on us? Peter Wohlleben, German forester and author of The Hidden Life of Trees, suggests that happy trees may impart their mood to us (9). He compares the atmosphere around ‘unhappy’ trees in plantations where threats abound and stress signals fill the air to old forests where ecosystem relations are more stabilised and trees healthier. We feel more relaxed and content in these latter environments. The emotive capacity of trees is yet to be proven scientifically, but is it a reasonable claim? If we define happiness as the circulation of ‘good’ molecules such as growth hormones and sugars, and the absence of ‘bad’ ones like distress signals, then we may suggest that for trees an abundance of good cues and a lack of warnings could be associated with a positive state. And this positive state - allowing trees to fulfill day-to-day functions, grow and proliferate, live in harmony with their environment - could be termed a kind of happiness in its own right. This may seem like a stretch - after all, how can you feel happiness without a brain? But Baluska et al. suggest that trees have those too, or something like them: command centres, integrative hubs in roots functioning somewhat like our own brains (10). Others compare a tree to an axon, a single nerve, conducting electrical signals along its length (11). Perhaps we could say that a forest, the aggregate of all these nerve connections, is a brain. Whilst we can draw endless analogies between the two, trees and animals parted ways 1.5 billion years ago in their evolutionary paths (12). Each developed their own ways of listening and responding to their environments. Who’s to say whether they haven’t both developed their own kinds of consciousness? If we take the time to contemplate trees, we can see that they are infinitely more complex and sensitive than we could have imagined. They have their own modes of communicating with and reacting to their environment. The fact is, trees are storytellers. They send out a constant flow of information into the air, the soil, and the root and fungal systems that join them to their community. Even if we can’t converse with trees in the same way that we converse with each other, it’s worth listening in on their chatter. They could tell us about changes in climate, threats to their environment, and how we can best help these graceful beings and the world around them. References: 1. Schubert, Shannon. “700yo Aboriginal Maternity Tree Set Alight in Victoria.” www.abc.net.au , August 8, 2021. https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-08-08/dja-dja-wurrung-birthing-tree-set-on-fire/100359690. 2. Pichersky, Eran, and Jonathan Gershenzon. “The Formation and Function of Plant Volatiles: Perfumes for Pollinator Attraction and Defense.” Current Opinion in Plant Biology 5, no. 3 (June 2002): 237–43. https://doi.org/10.1016/s1369-5266(02)00251-0.; Falik, Omer, Ishay Hoffmann, and Ariel Novoplansky. “Say It with Flowers.” Plant Signaling & Behavior 9, no. 4 (March 5, 2014): e28258. https://doi.org/10.4161/psb.28258. 3. Simard, Suzanne W., David A. Perry, Melanie D. Jones, David D. Myrold, Daniel M. Durall, and Randy Molina. “Net Transfer of Carbon between Ectomycorrhizal Tree Species in the Field.” Nature 388, no. 6642 (August 1997): 579–82. https://doi.org/10.1038/41557. 4. Buchmann, Stephen L, and Gary Paul Nabhan. The Forgotten Pollinators. Editorial: Washington, D.C.: Island Press/Shearwater Books, 1997. 5. De Moraes, Consuelo M., Mark C. Mescher, and James H. Tumlinson. “Caterpillar-Induced Nocturnal Plant Volatiles Repel Conspecific Females.” Nature 410, no. 6828 (March 2001): 577–80. https://doi.org/10.1038/35069058. 6. Zhang, Yanfeng, Yingping Xie, Jiaoliang Xue, Guoliang Peng, and Xu Wang. “Effect of Volatile Emissions, Especially -Pinene, from Persimmon Trees Infested by Japanese Wax Scales or Treated with Methyl Jasmonate on Recruitment of Ladybeetle Predators.” Environmental Entomology 38, no. 5 (October 1, 2009): 1439–45. https://doi.org/10.1603/022.038.0512. 7, 9. Wohlleben, Peter, Jane Billinghurst, Tim F Flannery, Suzanne W Simard, and David Suzuki Institute. The Hidden Life of Trees : The Illustrated Edition. Vancouver ; Berkeley: David Suzuki Institute, 2018. 10. Baluška, František, Stefano Mancuso, Dieter Volkmann, and Peter Barlow. “The ‘Root-Brain’ Hypothesis of Charles and Francis Darwin.” Plant Signaling & Behavior 4, no. 12 (December 2009): 1121–27. https://doi.org/10.4161/psb.4.12.10574. 11. Hedrich, Rainer, Vicenta Salvador-Recatalà, and Ingo Dreyer. “Electrical Wiring and Long-Distance Plant Communication.” Trends in Plant Science 21, no. 5 (May 2016): 376–87. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tplants.2016.01.016. 12. Wang, Daniel Y.-C., Sudhir Kumar, and S. Blair Hedges. “Divergence Time Estimates for the Early History of Animal Phyla and the Origin of Plants, Animals and Fungi.” Proceedings of the Royal Society of London. Series B: Biological Sciences 266, no. 1415 (January 22, 1999): 163–71. https://doi.org/10.1098/rspb.1999.0617.

< Back to Issue 7 Peaks and Perspectives: A Word from the Editors-in-Chief by the Editors-in-Chief 22 October 2024 illustrated by Ingrid Sefton In geometry, an apex may refer to the highest point of a solid figure, such as a pyramid. Move to the fields of ecology and evolution, and we find apex predators, overseeing population dynamics atop of the food chain. We too find ourselves situated at an apex position in society – observing, experimenting with, and utilising the world at our feet for scientific innovation and headway. Common amongst these apexes in science is unsurprisingly the emphasis on reaching soaring heights and breathtaking summits. We strive to reach these peaks, endpoints that are perceived to signal scientific greatness and knowledge. We create, we innovate, we explore – all with this vision in mind. Yet, this is not, or rather, should not be the “why” for scientific endeavour. Implicit in reaching the highest point of something is the notion that there is no further to climb. That upon reaching an apex, all that remains is to precariously balance upon this peak and hope not to misstep, tumbling down from great heights. Scientific curiosity and a yearning to understand the science underpinning our existence is not about reaching the envisioned apex. It is instead defined by the steps climbed by us and our predecessors in our journey towards discovery, and in turn, the steps that remain untrod and paths that remain uncharted. The routes we are yet to take will be forever changing. Piloted by the evolving foci of our society, where and how we may next seek to innovate remains undetermined. Infinite possibilities abound. With a birds-eye view, Apex visualises the new levels of human-tech connectivity, ills of antimicrobial resistance, and the fringes of outer space that loom on the horizon; with it, encouraging readers to envisage where the next steps may lie. Yet alongside these perspectives of the expansive, limitless world, Apex invites reflection and hypotheticals. Taking time to pause from the unfaltering upward march of innovation, this issue embraces the breathtaking view of where we are now. Apex guides us to consider time-old traditions and technicalities from a new perspective, celebrating those who have paved the way to the peaks of modern science. Wandering within, across and between disciplines of Science, it is these ruminations along the way that enrich the journey. After all, what is scientific advancement without knowing what we do not know? In the words of Sir Isaac Newton, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants that we hope to see further. So come along, and revel in the expansive view. Let the heights of scientific innovation inspire you, but don’t let such peaks constrain you. Previous article Next article apex back to