Relationships between modern humans and Neanderthals

Before 40 thousand years (ka) ago Europe was co-occupied by Neanderthals and anatomically modern humans (AMH) for between five to seven thousand years; about 350 generations – as long as the time since farming began in Neolithic Britain to the present day. Populations of both groups were probably low given their dependence on hunting and foraging during a period significantly colder than it is now. Crude estimates suggest between 3,000 to 12,000 individuals in each group; equivalent to the attendance at a single English Football League 2 match on a Covid-free winter Saturday afternoon. Moving around Europe south of say 55°N, their potential range would have been around 5 million square kilometres, which very roughly suggests that population density would be one person for every 200 km2. That they would have moved around in bands of, say, 10 to 25 might seem to suggest that encounters were very infrequent. Yet a hybrid Neanderthal-Denisovan female found in Siberia yielded DNA that suggested a family connection with Croatia, 5,000 km away (see: Neanderthal Mum meets Denisovan Dad, August 2018); early humans moved far and wide.

The likely appearances of Neanderthals and anatomically modern humans when they first met between 50 and 40 thousand years ago. (Credit: Jason Ford, New York University)

A sparsely populated land can be wandered through with little fear other than those of predators, sparse resources or harsh climate and lack of shelter. But it still seems incredible for there to have been regular meetings with other bands. But that view leaves out knowledge of good places to camp, hunt and forage that assure shelter, water, game and so forth, and how to get to them – a central part of hunter-gatherers’ livelihoods. There would have been a limited number of such refuges, considerably increasing chances of meeting. Whatever the physiognomic differences between AMH and Neaderthals, and they weren’t very striking, meeting up of bands of both human groups at a comfortable campsite would be cause for relief, celebration, exchanges of knowledge and perhaps individuals of one group to partner members of the other.

As well as that from Neanderthals, ancient DNA from very early European AMH remains has increasingly been teased out. The latest comes from three individuals from Bacho Kiro Cave in Bulgaria dated to between 45.9 to 42.6 ka; among the earliest known, fully modern Europeans. One had a Neanderthal ancestor less than six generations removed (perhaps even a great-great grandparent 60 years beforehand). Because of the slight elapsed time, the liaison was probably in Europe, rather than in the Middle East as previously suggested for insertion of Neanderthal genes into European ancestry. The genetic roots of the other two families stemmed back seven to ten generations – roughly 100 to 150 years (Hajdinjak, M. and 31 others 2021. Initial Upper Palaeolithic humans in Europe had recent Neanderthal ancestryNature, v. 592, p. 253–257; DOI: 10.1038/s41586-021-03335-3). The interpretation of these close relationships stems from the high proportion of Neanderthal DNA (3 to 4 %) in the three genomes. The segments are unusually lengthy, which is a major clue to the short time since the original coupling; inherited segments tend to shorten in successive generations. The groups to which these AMH individuals belonged did not contribute to later Eurasian populations, but link to living East Asians and Native Americans. They seem to have vanished from Europe long before modern times. The same day saw publication of a fourth instance of high Neanderthal genetic content (~3 %) in an early European’s genome, extracted from a ~45 ka female AMH from Zlatý kůň (Golden Horse) Cave in Czechia (Prüfer, K. and 11 others 2021. A genome sequence from a modern human skull over 45,000 years old from Zlatý kůň in Czechia. Nature Ecology & Evolution  DOI: 10.1038/s41559-021-01443-x). In her case, too, the Neanderthal DNA segments are unusually lengthy, but indicate 70 to 80 generations (~2,000 to 3,000 years) had elapsed. Her DNA also suggests that she was dark-skinned and had brown hair and brown eyes. Overall her genetics, too, do not have counterparts in later European AMH. The population to which she belonged may have migrated westwards from the Middle East, where one of her ancestors had mated with a Neanderthal, perhaps as long as 50 ka ago. But that does not rule out her group having been in Europe at that time. A later modern human, dated at 42 to 37 ka, is a young man from the Petştera cu Oase cave in Romania, whose forbears mixed with Neanderthals. His genome contains 6.4% of Neanderthal DNA, suggesting that his Neanderthal ancestor lived a mere 4 to 6 generations earlier, most likely in Europe, and was perhaps one of the last of that group.

The data suggest that once modern humans came into contact with their predecessors in the Middle East and Europe, mixture with Neanderthals was ‘the rule rather than the exception’. Yet their lack of direct relationship to later Europeans implies that AMH colonisation of Europe occurred in successive waves of people, not all of whom survived. As Palaeolithic specialist Chris Stringer of the Natural History Museum in London cautions, of these multiple waves of incomers ‘Some groups mixed with Neanderthals, and some didn’t. Some are related to later humans and some are not’. Even five thousand years after ‘first contact’, relations of modern humans with Neanderthals remained ‘cordial’, to say the least, including with the last few before their extinction.

See also: Gibbons, A. 2021. More than 45,000 years ago, modern humans ventured into Neanderthal territory. Here’s what happened next. Science, v. 372, News article; DOI: 10.1126/science.abi8830. Callaway, E. 2021. Oldest DNA from a Homo sapiens reveals surprisingly recent Neanderthal ancestry. Nature, v. 592, News article; DOI: 10.1038/d41586-021-00916-0. Genomes of the earliest Europeans (Science Daily, 7 April 2021). Bower, B. 2021 Europe’s oldest known humans mated with Neandertals surprisingly often (ScienceNews, 7 April 2021)

Snippet: Early human collection of useless objects

The Ga-Mohana rock shelter in North Cape Province, South Africa (Credit: Jayne Wilkins, University of the Witwatersrand)

We all, especially as kids, have collected visually interesting objects for no particular reason other than they ‘caught our eye’: at the beach; from ploughed fields; river gravel, or at the side of a path. They end up in sheds, attics and mantel shelves. In an online News and Views article at the Nature website Pamela Willoughby discusses the significance of a paper on an archaeological site in the southern Kalahari Desert, North Cape Province South Africa (Willoughby, P.R. 2021. Early humans far from the South African coast collected unusual objects. Nature, v. 323, online News and Views; DOI: 10.1038/d41586-021-00795-5). Jayne Wilkins and co-workers from South Africa, Australia, Canada, Austria and the UK have investigated a rock shelter, with floor deposits going back over 100 thousand years. The researchers have, in a sense, continued the long human habit of seeking objets trouvée by using trowels and sieves to excavate the shelter’s floor sediments. They found a collection of cleavage fragments of white calcite and abundant shards of ostrich shell. Ga-Mohana Hill is still a place that locals consider to have spiritual significance. The authors consider the original collectors to have had no other motive than aesthetic pleasure and perhaps ritual, and that this signifies perhaps the earliest truly modern human behaviour. Yet, in 1925 a cave on the other side of South Africa, in Limpopo Province, yielded a striking example of a possible ‘collector’s piece’ from much earlier times. It is associated with remains of australopithecines and has been dated to around 3 Ma ago (see: Earliest sign of a sense of aesthetics, November 2020).

Source: Wilkins, J. et al.2021. Innovative Homo sapiens behaviours 105,000 years ago in a wetter Kalahari. Nature, v. 323 DOI: 10.1038/s41586-021-03419-0

Magnetic reversal and demise of the Neanderthals?

A rumour emerged last week that the Neanderthals met their end as one consequence of an extraterrestrial, possibly even extragalactic influence. Curiously, it stems from a recent discovery in New Zealand, where of course Neanderthals never set foot and nor did anatomically modern humans, the ancestors of Maori people, until a mere 800 years ago. It started with an ancient log from a kauri tree (Agathis australis), a species that Maoris revere. Found in excavations of boggy ground, the log weighed about 60 tons, so it was a valuable commodity, especially as it is illegal to fell living kauri trees. The wood is unaffected by burial and insect attack, has a regular grain and colour throughout, so is ideal for monumental Maori sculpture. Such swamp kauri also preserves their own life history in annual growth rings, and the log in question has 1700 of them. Using growth rings to chart climate variation gives the most detailed records of the recent past, provided the wood can be dated. Matching growth ring records from several trees of different ages is key to charting local climate with annual precision over several millennia.

An ancient kauri tree log recovered by swampland excavations in New Zealand. (Credit: Jonathan Palmer, in Voosen 2021)

Radiocarbon dating indicates that this particular kauri tree was growing around 42 thousand years ago. That is close to the upper limit for using 14C concentration in organic matter to determine age because the isotope has a short half-life (5730 years). In this case samples of the log would contain only about 0.7 % of its original complement of radioactive carbon. Cosmic rays generate 14C when they hit nitrogen atoms in the atmosphere and it enters COand thus the carbon cycle. Carbon dioxide taken up by photosynthesis to contribute carbon to plants contains only about one part per trillion of 14C. Consequently wood as ancient as that in the kauri log contains almost vanishingly small amounts, yet it can still be measured using mass spectrometry to yield an accurate radiometric age.

The particularly interesting thing about the 42 ka date is that it coincides with the timing of the last reversal of the Earth’s magnetic field, known as the Laschamps event. The kauri tree bears detailed witness through its growth rings to the environmental effects of a decrease in that field to almost zero as the poles flipped. The bulk of cosmic rays are normally deflected away from the Earth by the geomagnetic field, but during a reversal a great many more pass through the atmosphere, the most energetic reaching the surface and the biosphere. The kauri growth rings record fluctuations in the generation of 14C by their passage and thereby the geomagnetic field strength, which was only 6% of normal levels from 42.3 to 41.6 ka (Cooper, A. and 32 others  2021. A global environmental crisis 42,000 years ago. Science, v. 371, p. 811-818; DOI: 10.1126/science.abb8677). This coincided with an unrelated succession of periods of low solar activity and a reduced solar ‘wind’, which also provides some cosmic-rayprotection when activity is at normal levels; a ‘double whammy’. One consequence would have been destruction of stratospheric ozone by cosmic rays and thus increased ultraviolet exposure at ground level.

Combined with the highly precise growth-ring dating, the climatic changes over the 1700 year lifetime of the kauri tree can be linked to other records of environmental change. These include glacial ice- and lake-bed cores together with stalactite layers. Apparently, the Laschamps geomagnetic reversal coincided with abrupt shifts in wind belts and precipitation, perhaps triggering major droughts in the southern continents. Highly plausible, but some of the other speculations are less certain. For instance, some time around 42 ka, but far from well-established, Australia’s marsupial megafauna experienced major extinctions, the Neanderthals disappear from the fossil record and modern humans started decorating caves in Europe (20 ka after they did in Indonesia). In fact, speculation becomes somewhat silly, with suggestions that early Europeans went to live in caves because of increased exposure to UV (they knew, did they, while Neanderthals didn’t?), their painting and, by implication, their entire culture shifting through the shock and awe of mighty displays of the aurora borealis. Just because the number 42 is (or was), according to the late Douglas Adams’s Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, ‘the answer to life, the universe and everything’, the authors tag the episode as the ‘Adams Event’. In their summary for The Conversation they include an animation with a quintessential Stephen Fry narrative, which Earth-logs readers can judge for themselves. Perhaps ‘Lockdown Trauma’ has a lot more to answer for, other than upsurges in Zoom conferences, knitting and gourmet experimentation …

See also: Voosen, P. 2021. Kauri trees mark magnetic flip 42,000 years ago. Science, v. 371, p. 766; DOI: 10.1126/science.371.6531.766

And here’s another snippet: Neanderthal link to our brain

Elizabeth Pennisi reports on a ‘Petri-dish’ experiment that substitutes a Neanderthal gene for a modern human one in a culture of human brain tissue. It gives some idea of how our very close relative may have thought differently from us. Pennisi, E. 2021. Neanderthal-inspired ‘minibrains’ hint at what makes modern humans specialScience, online news item; DOI:10.1126/science.abh0331

The ancestry of our opposable thumbs

Since the appearance of smart phones and the explosion of social media our thumbs have found a new niche; typing while holding a mobile. At a desktop keyboard, most of us don’t use thumbs very much, unless we have mastered fast touch typing, but for a huge variety of manual tasks thumbs are essential. The first makers of sophisticated stone tools must have been able to grip between fingers and thumb to manipulate the materials from which they were made and to perform the various stages in creating a razor sharp edge. To do that, as most of us are aware, the tip of the thumb must be capable of touching the tips of all four fingers; an opposable thumb is essential for the ‘precision grip’. Being able to tell when opposable thumbs evolve depends, of course, on finding hand-bone fossils. Being made of many bones disarticulated hands are a lot more fragile than long bones or those of the skull. Complete fossil hands are rare, as are feet, but a number have been found more or less complete. Whichever hominin had evolved opposable thumbs, their potential would have given them a considerable advantage over those that hadn’t.

The main muscles that control the movements of modern human fingers and thumb (Credit: Wikipedia)

Simply comparing the shapes of fossilised bones of fingers and thumbs with those of modern humans and other living primates has, so far, not proved capable of resolving with certainty which hominin groups either did or did not have opposable thumbs. The key lies in the muscles that operate them. It has become commonplace to reconstruct faces and even whole bodies from fairly complete skeletal remains by modelling musculature from the positioning and shape of the points of attachment of muscles to bone. But that become increasingly difficult for the small-scale and intricate attachments in hands. The critical muscle for opposable thumbs is known as the Opponens pollicis (the Latin for thumb is Digitus pollex); a small triangular muscle that operates in conjunction with three others (with pollicis in their Latin names).

Fotios Karakostis and six colleagues from German, Swiss and Greek universities have devised software that can model muscles in 3-D (F.A. Karakostis et al. 2021. Biomechanics of the human thumb and the evolution of dexterityCurrent Biology, v.31,  online; DOI: 10.1016/j.cub.2020.12.041). Based on the anatomy of human and chimpanzee hand muscles and the positions of their attachment to individual bones, they have been able to establish a series of parameters that clearly distinguish the morphological and probably functional characteristics of the thumbs of these living primates. Complete sets of thumb bones from four Neanderthal skeletons show that they were significantly, but only slightly, different from anatomically modern humans. Those from three species of Australopithecus (africanus, sediba and afarensis) lie between ours and chimps’, with significantly closer affinity to chimpanzees. It seems that australopithecines of whatever age were not equipped with opposable thumbs and were possible tool producers and users with the very limited capabilities of modern chimps; holding, pounding and poking. A single set of hominin thumb bones from about two million years ago that were found in the famous Swartkrans Cave in South Africa show just as close affinity in thumb opposability to humans as do Neanderthals. So at 2 Ma there was a hominin species sufficiently dextrous to make and use sophisticated tools. The problem is, the bones are not directly associated with others and have been ascribed by different authors either to H. habilis or Paranthropus robustus. Interestingly, this paranthropoid has also been suggested (controversially) to have been the first known hominin to use fire, and it also used digging sticks. No one has ever suggested that the genus Homo descended from a paranthropoid ancestor or vice versa; these massively jawed beings did coexist with early humans in East Africa for over a million years. The other hominin who left hands in the geological record was Homo naledi; a controversial species because it was found in a barely accessible cave chamber, and took a while to date. This context gave rise to the notions that it was the direct ancestor of humans and that it buried its dead in a special place. However, it turned out to be relative recent, at about 280 ka (see: Homo naledi: an anti-climax; May 2017). Homo naledi does seem to have had opposable thumbs, but there is no associated evidence to suggest either tool making or use.

Fascinating as the methodology outlined by Karakostis et al. is, their findings do not take early human capabilities very much further than what is already known. Tools were made and used as far back as 3.3 Ma ago, and we know that H. habilis was doing this by about 2.6 Ma; i.e. long before the first evidence for opposable thumbs, and who had them first is uncertain. What is clear is that sophisticated tools, such as the bifacial Acheulian artifacts whose manufacture demands great dexterity, only appeared after the potential for nimble dexterity (about 1.8 Ma). The same goes for the first migration out of Africa, at about the same time, which demanded resourcefulness that may have sprung from the ability to manipulate natural materials effectively and carefully

See also: Handwerk B. 2012. How dexterous thumbs may have helped shape evolution two million years ago. (Smithsonian Magazine, 28 January 2021); Bower, B. 2021. Humanlike thumb dexterity may date back as far as 2 million years ago. (Science News, 28 January 2021)

How like the Neanderthals are we?

An actor made-up to resemble a Neanderthal man in a business suit traveling on the London Underground. (Source: screen-grab from BBC2 Neanderthals – Meet Your Ancestors)

In the most basic, genetic sense, we were sufficiently alike for us to have interbred with them regularly and possibly wherever the two human groups met. As a result the genomes of all modern humans contain snips derived from Neanderthals (see: Everyone now has their Inner Neanderthal; February 2020). East Asian people also carry some Denisovan genes as do the original people of Australasia and the first Americans. Those very facts suggest that members of each group did not find individuals from others especially repellent as potential sexual partners! But that covers only a tiny part of what constitutes culture. There is archaeological evidence that Neanderthals and modern humans made similar tools. Both had the skills to make bi-faced ‘hand axes’ before they even met around 45 to 40 ka ago.  A cave (La Grotte des Fées) near Châtelperron to the west of the French Alps that was occupied by Neanderthals until about 40 ka yielded a selection of stone tools, including blades, known as the Châtelperronian culture, which indicates a major breakthrough in technology by their makers. It is sufficiently similar to the stone industry of anatomically modern humans (AMH) who, around that time, first migrated into Europe from the east (Aurignacian) to pose a conundrum: Did the Neanderthals copy Aurignacian techniques when they met AMH, or vice versa? Making blades by splitting large flint cores is achieved by striking the cores with just a couple of blows with a softer tool. At the very least Neanderthals had the intellectual capacity to learn this very difficult skill, but they may have invented it (see: Disputes in the cavern; June 2012). Then there is growing evidence for artistic abilities among Neanderthals, and even Homo erectus gets a look-in (see: Sophisticated Neanderthal art now established; February 2018).

Reconstructed burial of a Neanderthal individual at La Chappelle-aux-Saints (Credit: Musée de La Chapelle-aux-Saints, Corrèze, France)

For a long time, a pervasive aspect of AMH culture has been ritual. Indeed much early art may be have been bound up with ritualistic social practices, as it has been in historic times. A persuasive hint at Neanderthal ritual lies in the peculiar structures – dated at 177 ka – found far from the light of day in the Bruniquel Cave in south-western France (see: Breaking news: Cave structures made by Neanderthals; May 2016). They comprise circles fashioned from broken-off stalactites, and fires seem to have been lit in them. The most enduring rituals among anatomically modern humans have been those surrounding death: we bury our dead, thereby preserving them, in a variety of ways and ‘send them off’ with grave goods or even by burning them and putting the ashes in a pot. A Neanderthal skeleton (dated at 50 ka) found in a cave at La Chappelle-aux-Saints appears to have been buried and made safe from scavengers and erosion. There are even older Neanderthal graves (90 to 100 ka) at Quafzeh in Palestine and Shanidar in Iraq, where numerous individuals, including a mother and child, had been interred. Some are associated with possible grave goods, such as pieces of red ochre (hematite) pigment, animal body parts and even pollen that suggests flowers had been scattered on the remains. The possibility of deliberate offerings or tributes and even the notion of burial have met with scepticism among some palaeoanthropologists. One reason for the scientific caution is that many of the finds were excavated long before the rigour of modern archaeological protocols

Recently a multidisciplinary team involving scientists from France, Belgium, Italy, Germany, Spain and Denmark exhaustively analysed the context and remains of a Neanderthal child found in the La Ferrassie cave (Dordogne region of France) in the early 1970s  (Balzeau, A. and 13 others 2020. Pluridisciplinary evidence for burial for the La Ferrassie 8 Neandertal childScientific Reports, v. 10, article 21230; DOI: 10.1038/s41598-020-77611-z). Estimated to have been about 2 years old, the child is anatomically complete. Bones of other animals found in the same deposit were less-well preserved than those of the child, adding weight to the hypothesis that a body, rather than bones, had been buried soon after death. Luminescence dating of the sediments enveloping the skeleton is considerably older than the radiocarbon age of one of the child’s bones. That is difficult to explain other than by deliberate burial. It is almost certain that a pit had been dug and the child placed in it, to be covered in sediment. The skeleton was oriented E-W, with the head towards the east. Remarkably, other Neanderthal remains at the La Ferrassie site also have heads to the east of the rest of their bones, suggesting perhaps a common practice of orientation relative to sunrise and sunset.

It is slowly dawning on palaeoanthropologists that Neanderthal culture and cognitive capacity were not greatly different from those of anatomically modern humans. That similar beings to ourselves disappeared from the archaeological record within a few thousand years of the first appearance of AMH in Europe has long been attributed to what can be summarised as the Neanderthals being ‘second best’ in many ways. That may not have been the case. Since the last glaciation something similar has happened twice in Europe, which analysis of ancient DNA has documented in far more detail than the disappearance of the Neanderthals. Mesolithic hunter-gatherers were followed by early Neolithic farmers with genetic affinities to living people in Northern Anatolia in Turkey – the region where growing crops began. The DNA record from human remains with Neolithic ages shows no sign of genomes with a clear Mesolithic signature, yet some of the genetic features of these hunter-gatherers still remain in the genomes of modern Europeans. Similarly, ancient DNA recovered from Bronze Age human bones suggests almost complete replacement of the Neolithic inhabitants by people who introduced metallurgy, a horse-centred culture and a new kind of ceramic – the Bell Beaker. This genetic group is known as the Yamnaya, whose origins lie in the steppe of modern Ukraine and European Russia. In this Neolithic-Bronze Age population transition the earlier genomes disappear from the ancient DNA record. Yet Europeans still carry traces of that earlier genetic heritage. The explanation now accepted by both geneticists and archaeologists is that both events involved assimilation and merging through interbreeding. That seems just as applicable to the ‘disappearance’ of the Neanderthals

See also: Neanderthals buried their dead: New evidence (Science Daily, 9 December 2020)

Doggerland and the Storegga tsunami

Britain is only an island when sea level stands high; i.e. during interglacial conditions. Since the last ice age global sea level have risen by about 130 m as the great northern ice sheets slowly melted. That Britain could oscillate between being part of Europe and a large archipelago as a result of major climatic cycles dates back only to between 450 and 240 ka ago. Previously it was a permanent part of what is now Europe, as befits its geological identity, joined to it by a low ridge buttressed by Chalk across the Dover Strait/Pas de Calais. All that remains of that are the white cliffs on either side. The drainage of what became the Thames, Seine and Rhine passed to the Atlantic in a much larger rive system that flowed down the axis of the Channel. Each time an ice age ended the ridge acted as a dam for glacial meltwater to form a large lake in what is now the southern North Sea. While continuous glaciers across the northern North Sea persisted the lake remained, but erosion during interglacials steadily wore down the ridge. About 450 ka ago it was low enough for this pro-glacial lake to spill across it in a catastrophic flood that began the separation. Several repeats occurred until the ridge was finally breached (See: When Britain first left Europe; September 2007). Yet sufficient remained that the link reappeared when sea level fell. What remains at present is a system of shallows and sandbanks, the largest of which is the Dogger Bank roughly halfway between Newcastle and Denmark. Consequently the swamps and river systems that immediately followed the last ice age have become known collectively as Doggerland.

The shrinkage of Doggerland since 16,000 BCE (Credit: Europe’s Lost Frontiers Project, University of Bradford)

Dredging of the southern North Sea for sand and gravel frequently brings both the bones of land mammals and the tools of Stone Age hunters to light – one fossil was a skull fragment of a Neanderthal. At the end of the Younger Dryas (~11.7 ka) Doggerland was populated and became a route for Mesolithic hunter-gatherers to cross from Europe to Britain and become transient and then permanent inhabitants. Melting of the northern ice sheets was slow and so was the pace of sea-level rise. A continuous passage across Dogger Land  remained even as it shrank. Only when the sea surface reached about 20 m below its current level was the land corridor breached bay what is now the Dover Strait, although low islands, including the Dogger Bank, littered the growing seaway. A new study examines the fate of Doggerland and its people during its final stage (Walker, J. et al. 2020. A great wave: the Storegga tsunami and the end of Doggerland? Antiquity, v. 94, p. 1409-1425; DOI: 10.15184/aqy.2020.49).

James Walker and colleagues at the University of Bradford, UK, and co-workers from the universities of Tartu, Estonia, Wales Trinity Saint David and St Andrews, UK, focus on one devastating event during Doggerland’s slow shrinkage and inundation. This took place around 8.2 ka ago, during the collapse of a section of the Norwegian continental edge. Known as the Storegga Slides (storegga means great edge in Norse), three submarine debris flows shifted 3500 km3 of sediment to blanket 80 thousand km2 of the Norwegian Sea floor, reaching more than half way to Iceland.  Tsunami deposits related to these events occur along the coast western Norway, on the Shetlands and the shoreline of eastern Scotland. They lie between 3 and 20 m above modern sea level, but allowing for the lower sea level at the time the ‘run-up’ probably reached as high as 35 m: more than the maximum of both the 26 December 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami and that in NW Japan on 11 March 2011. Two Mesolithic archaeological sites definitely lie beneath the tsunami deposit, one close to the source of the slid, another near Inverness, Scotland. At the time part of the Dogger Bank still lay above the sea, as did a wide coastal plain and offshore islands along England’s east coast. This catastrophic event was a little later than a sudden cooling event in the Northern Hemisphere. Any Mesolithic people living on what was left of Doggerland would not have survived. But quite possibly they may already have left as the climate cooled substantially

A seabed drilling programme financed by the EU targeted what lies beneath more recent sediments on the Dogger Bank and off the embayment known as The Wash of Eastern England. Some of the cores contain tsunamis deposits, one having been analysed in detail in a separate paper (Gaffney, V. and 24 others 2020. Multi-Proxy Characterisation of the Storegga Tsunami and Its Impact on the Early Holocene Landscapes of the Southern North Sea. Geosciences, v. 10, online; DOI: 10.3390/geosciences10070270). The tsunami washed across an estuarine mudflat into an area of meadowland with oak and hazel woodland, which may have absorbed much of its energy. Environmental DNA analysis suggests that this relic of Doggerland was roamed by bear, wild boar and ruminants. The authors also found evidence that the tsunamis had been guided by pre-existing topography, such as the river channel of what is now the River Great Ouse. Yet they found no evidence of human occupation. Together with other researchers, the University of Bradford’s Lost Frontiers Project have produced sufficient detail about Doggerland to contemplate looking for Mesolithic sites in the excavations for offshore wind farms.

See also: Addley, E. 2020.  Study finds indications of life on Doggerland after devastating tsunamis. (The Guardian, 1 December 2020); Europe’s Lost Frontiers website

Earliest sign of a sense of aesthetics

Maybe because of the Covid-19 pandemic, there has been a dearth of interesting new developments in the geosciences over that last few months: the ‘bread and butter’ of Earth-logs. So instead of allowing a gap in articles to develop, and as a sign that I haven’t succumbed, this piece concerns one of the most intriguing discoveries in palaeoanthropology. In 1925 Wilfred Eitzman, a school teacher, investigated a cave in the Makapansgat Valley in Limpopo Province, South Africa that had been exposed by quarry workers.  His most striking discovery was a polished pebble made of very fine-grained, iron-rich silica, probably from a Precambrian banded iron formation. Being round and deeply pitted, it had clearly been subject to prolonged rolling and sand blasting in running water and wind. Eerily, whichever way it was viewed it bore a striking resemblance to a primate face: eyes, mouth, nose and, viewed from the rear, a disturbing, toothless grin. We have all picked up odd-looking pebbles on beaches or a river bank: I recently found a sandstone demon-cat (it even has pointy ears) when digging a new vegetable patch.

The Makapansgat Pebble. Inverted it still resembles a face and its obverse side does too.

What is different about the Makapansgat Pebble is that Eitzman found it in a cave-floor layer full of bones, including those of australopithecines. The cave is located in dolomitic limestone outcrops high in the local drainage system, so it’s unlikely that the pebble was washed into it. The nearest occurrence of banded iron formation is about 20 kilometres away, so something must have carried the pebble for a day or more to the cave. The local area has since yielded a superb palaeontological record of early hominin evolution, stimulated by  Eitzman’s finds. He gave the fossils and the pebble to Raymond Dart, the pioneer of South African palaeoanthropology. Dart named the hominin fossils Australopithecus prometheus because associated bones of other animals were covered in black stains that Dart eagerly regarded as signs of burning and thus cooking. When it became clear that the stains were of manganese oxide the name was changed to Au. africanus, the fossils eventually being dated to around 3 million years ago.

Dart was notorious for his showmanship, and the fossils and the Makapansgat Pebble ‘did the rounds’ and continue to do so. In 2016 the pebble was displayed with a golden rhino, a collection of apartheid-era badges and much more in the British Museum’s South Africa: the art of a nation exhibition. Well, is the pebble art? As it shows no evidence of deliberate working it can not be considered art, but could be termed an objet trouvé. That is, an ‘object found by chance and held to have aesthetic value to an artist’. The pebble’s original finder 3 million years ago must have found the 0.25 kg pebble sufficiently interesting to have carried it back to the cave, presumably because of its clear resemblance to a hominin head: in fact a multiple-faced head. Was it carried by a cave-dwelling australopithecine or an early member of genus Homo who left no other trace at Makapansgat? At an even earlier time a so-far undiscovered hominin did indeed make simple stone tools to dismember joints of meat on the shores of Lake Turkana in Kenya. It is impossible to know who for sure carried the pebble, nor to know why. Yet all living primates are curious creatures, so it is far from impossible that any member of the hominins in our line of descent would have collected portable curiosities.

More Denisovan connections

In 2006 mining operations in NE Mongolia uncovered a human skull cap with prominent brow ridges. After having been dubbed Mongolanthropus because of its primitive appearance and then suggested to be either a Neanderthal of Homo erectus. Radiocarbon dating in 2019 then showed the woman to be around 34,500 years old and the accompanying sequencing of its mtDNA assigned her to a widespread Eurasian haplotype of modern humans. Powdered bone samples ended up in Svante Paabo’s renowned ancient-DNA lab at the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology in Leipzig and yielded a full genome (Massilani, D. and 14 others 2020. Denisovan ancestry and population history of early East Asians. Science, v. 370, p. 579-583; DOI: 10.1126/science.abc1166). From this flowed some interesting genetic history.

Skull cap of a female modern human from Salkhit in Outer Mongolia, which superficially resembles those of Homo erectus from Java (Credit: Massilani et al. Fig 1a; © Institute of Archaeology, Mongolian Academy of Sciences)

First was a close overall resemblance to living East Asians and Native Americans, similar to that of an older individual from near Beijing, China. This confirmed the antiquity of the East Eurasian population’s split from that of the west, yet contained evidence of some interbreeding with West Eurasians to the extent of sharing 25% of DNA and with Neanderthals. The two specimens also contained evidence of Denisovan ancestry in their genomes, but fragments that are more akin to those in living people in East Asia than to those of Papuans and Aboriginal Australians: these were definitely cosmopolitan people! The simplest explanation is two distinct minglings with Denisovans: that involving ancestors of Papuans and Australian being the perhaps earlier, en route to their arrival at least 60 thousand years on what became an island continent in the run-up to the last glacial maximum. Be that as it may, two separate Denisovan populations interbred with modern human bands. Further genetic connections with ancient Northern Siberian humans suggests complex movement across the continent, probably inevitable because these hunter-gatherers would have followed prey animals on their seasonal migrations, which would have been longer than today because of climatic cooling. The same can be surmised for Denisovans which would have increased the chances of contact

See also: Denisovan DNA in the genome of early East Asians (Science Daily, 29 October 2020)

In May 2019 (Denisovan on top of the world) I wrote about a human lower jaw that a Buddhist monk had found in a cave at a height of 3.3 km on the Tibetan plateau. Analysis of protein traces in the teeth it retained suggested that it was Denisovan. Like the earlier small remnants from Siberia, dating this putative Denisovan precisely proved to be impossible. The jawbone was at least 160 ka old from the age of speleothem carbonate encrusting it. Excavation of the sediment layers from Baishiya Cave has enabled a large team of Chinese, Australian, US and Swedish scientists to try out the ‘environmental DNA’ approach pioneered by the Max Planck Institute for Evolutionary Anthropology (see: Detecting the presence of hominins in ancient soil samples, April 2017). The cave confirmed occupation by Denisovans from mtDNA found in layers dated using radiocarbon and optically stimulated luminescence methods. Denisovan mtDNA turned up in four layers dated at ~100, ~60 and possibly as young as 45 ka, as well at that from a variety of other mammals (Zhang, D. and 26 others. Denisovan DNA in Late Pleistocene sediments from Baishiya Karst Cave on the Tibetan Plateau. Science, v. 370, p. 584-587; DOI: 10.1126/science.abb6320).  Denisovans were clearly able to live at high elevations for at least 100 thousand years: long enough to evolve the metabolic processes essential to sustain living in low-oxygen conditions, which it has been suggested was passed on to ancestral modern Tibetans.

Environmental change and early-human innovation

Acheulean biface tools strewn on a bedding surface in the Olorgesailie Basin, Kenya (credit: mmercedes_78 Flickr)

The Olorgesailie Basin in Southern Kenya is possibly the world’s richest source for evidence of ancient stone-tool manufacture. For early humans, it certainly was rich in the necessary resources from which to craft tools. Lying in East Africa’s active rift system, its stratigraphy contains abundant beds of hydrothermal silica (chert), deposited by hot springs, and flows of fine grained lavas. Its sediments spanning the last 1.2 million years show that the Basin hosted lakes and extensive river systems for the earlier part of this period: it was rich in food resources too. The tools, together with bones from dismembered prey, bear witness to long-term human occupation, but hominin remains themselves have yet to be discovered. The time span suggests early occupation by Homo erectus, who probably manufactured Acheulean biface stone tools in large quantities that litter the surface at some archaeological sites.

There is a break in the stratigraphic sequence from about 500 to 320 thousand years ago caused by erosion during a period of tectonic uplift. Younger sediments reveal a striking change in archaeology. The earlier large cutting tools give way to a more diverse ‘toolkit’ of smaller tools produced by more sophisticated techniques than those used to make the Acheulean ‘hand axes’. In African archaeological parlance, the <320 ka-old tools mark the onset of the Middle Stone Age (NB not equivalent to the much younger Mesolithic of Europe). The sedimentary gap also marks what seems to have been very different human behaviour. The stone resources used in the 1.2 to 0.5 Ma sequence were local: no more than 5 km from the tool-yielding sites. After the gap a much more varied range of lithologies was used, from as far afield as 95 km. Not only that, but rock unsuitable for tools appears: soft pigments such as hematite.

The foregoing was known from three major papers that appeared in March 2018 (see: Human evolution and revolution in Africa, March 2018 – specifically the section Hominin cultural revolution 320,000 years ago). Now, many members of the teams who produced that published evidence report detailed analysis of samples from a deep drill core through the stratigraphy in a similar, nearby basin (Potts, R. and 21 others 2020. Increased ecological resource variability during a critical transition in hominin evolutionScience Advances, v. 6, article eabc8975; DOI:10.1126/sciadv.abc8975). As well as calibrating the timing of stratigraphic changes using 40Ar/39Ar dating from 22 volcanic layers, the team analysed sedimentary structures, body- and trace fossils, variations in sediment geochemistry, palaeobotany and carbon isotopes, to suggest variations in environmental conditions and ecology throughout the section in greater detail than previously achieved anywhere in Africa.

They conclude that as well as a change in topography resulting from the 500-320 ka period of tectonic uplift and erosion, the climate of this part of East Africa became more unstable. Combined, these two factors transformed the ecosystems of the Olorgesailie Basin. Between 1.2 to 0.5 Ma the Acheulean tool makers inhabited dominantly grassy plains with substantial, permanent lakes – a stable period of 700 thousand years, well suited to large herbivores and thus to these early humans. Tectonic and climatic change disrupted a ‘land of plenty’; the herbivores left to be replaced by smaller prey animals; vegetation shifted back and forth from grassland to woodland with the unstable climate; lakes became smaller and ephemeral. The problem in linking environmental change to changed human practices in this case, however, is the 180 thousand-year gap in the geological record. Lead author Richard Potts, director of the Human Origins Program at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of Natural History, and his team suggest that the change contributed to the ecological flexibility of the probable Homo sapiens who left the fancier, more diverse tools during the later phase. Yet 1.6 million years beforehand early H. erectus had sufficient flexibility to cross 30 to 40 degrees of latitude and end up on the shores of the Black Sea in Georgia! The likely late-stage H. erectus of Olorgesailie may have moved out around 500 ka ago and sometime later early H. sapiens moved in with new technology developed elsewhere. We know that the earliest known anatomically modern humans lived in Morocco at around 315 ka (see: Origin of anatomically modern humans, June 2017): but we don’t know what tools they had or where they went next. There are all sorts of possibilities that cannot be addressed by even the most intricate analysis of secondary evidence. The important issue seems, I think, to centre on the transition from erects to sapiens, in anatomical, cognitive and behavioural contexts, via some intermediary such as H. antecessor, to which this study can contribute very little. That needs complete stratigraphic records: ironically, the other basin from which the core was drilled is apparently more complete, especially for the 500 to 320 ka ‘gap’. That seems likely to offer more potential. Yet, such big questions also demand a much broader brush: perhaps on a continental scale. It’s to early to tell …

See also: Turbulent era sparked leap in human behavior, adaptability 320,000 years ago (Science Daily,21 October 2020)