Love Thy Nonsuch

Love Thy Nonsuch

We’ve got a lot going on at The Manitoba Museum these days, Trees of Life recently opened, WRAPPED: The Mummy of Pesed will open on October 25, but with all this excitement part of me really feels for our permanent exhibits. I know, exhibits don’t have feelings so there is probably no jealousy brewing between the old exhibits and new, but I’ve always been torn between my beloved treasures and the new shiny things put before me. Think back to when you got a new toy/book/car/fancy electronic device, did you ever feel bad for your older ones? No? Just me then…

Fortunately Museum staff have come up with just the right thing to help me cope with these feelings of betrayal, a month-long celebration of one of everyone’s favourite museum treasures: the Nonsuch!

View of the side exterior of a wooden sailing vessel in a museum gallery.

November is Love Thy Nonsuch month, presented by Gendis Inc.

Why November?  Well, November 2013 marks the 40th anniversary of her arrival here at The Manitoba Museum!

Anyone who loves the ship should be sure to keep your weekends open for these exciting events:

  • Public talks every Saturday & Sunday at 2 pm in the Nonsuch Gallery
  • Nonsuch tours, including access to the often off-limits hold area
  • Costumed interpreters throughout the Nonsuch Gallery interpreting the fur trade era

All programming is included with regular admission to the Museum Galleries!

I will be opening up the celebrations with a public talk on the history of the Nonsuch on November 2, at 2 pm. All are welcome to attend and I promise to keep you enthralled by the fascinating history of the original ship that helped set the fur trade in motion. It’s not just a pretty pirate-ship look-alike, its got a story of its own to tell!

A small wooden sailing vessel, a shallop, on display in a museum gallery, in front of a wall mural depicting a sunset that shallop's white sails are raised.

So after you’ve come down to see Trees of Life and WRAPPED make a plan to come back, bring the whole family, and get (re)acquainted with your Nonsuch.

Can’t make it down but still want to show your love? Why not Adopt an Artifact!

We’ve recently added a number of items from the Nonsuch that you could symbolically “adopt” and help support our conservation efforts to keep this beauty for generations to come! Click here to see what’s up for adoption.

 

Image: Don’t forget to say hello to the shallop too!

Dr. Amelia Fay

Dr. Amelia Fay

Curator of Anthropology & the HBC Museum Collection

Amelia Fay is Curator of Anthropology and the HBC Museum Collection at the Manitoba Museum. She received her BA in Anthropology from the University of Manitoba (2004), an MA in Archaeology…
Meet Dr. Amelia Fay

A few of my favourite trees (& lichens & fungi…)

One of the great things about working at the Museum is being able to see all sorts of specimens and artifacts up close. When I first started working here, I used to enjoy looking through the Natural History cabinets on my lunch break. Creating temporary exhibits in the Museum’s Discovery Room is a wonderful way to share some of my favorite things in the collection with our visitors.

As I was brainstorming for a theme for my new exhibit, the phrase “tree of life” popped into my head. This term usually refers to evolutionary charts showing how species are related to each other. But the Trees of Life exhibit focuses on the ways that trees unintentionally help other organisms, such as lichens, fungi, insects, birds, and mammals, to survive. Since humans also depend on trees for many things, I decided that a case with some wooden artifacts would make an appropriate addition, and provide me with an excellent opportunity to poke around in the Human History collections for a change.

So I combed through the cabinets looking for things related to trees. I found a great collection of colourful lichens growing on bark and twigs. I am especially fond of the vibrant yellow wolf lichen (Letharia vulpina) partly because I collected it myself and partly because it’s really poisonous.

An individual adjusting specimens on a hexagonal mat.

Exhibit Designer, Stephanie Whitehouse, testing the case layout.

A selection of colourful lichens on branches and pieces of bark laid out on a hexagonal mat.

Testing the layout for the lichen case.

A fossil leaf embedded in a slab of reddish shale.

A fossil leaf impression preserved in a layer of baked shale.

Three large cicada specimens in a collections box.

The palaeontological collection has some fabulous specimens of fossilized wood and leaves. My favourite specimen contains a fossil leaf in baked shale. This happened when a coal seam underneath a shale layer caught fire, turning the normally gray rock a lovely salmon colour.

The Museum has several huge tropical cicadas that I think are really cool. You may have heard that the American 17-year cicadas (Magicicada) hatched this year. Cicadas are fascinating insects that depend heavily on trees, although you wouldn’t know it because rather than chomping on the leaves, they feed underground on the roots. Specifically, they tap into tree roots and suck out the sap. Since tree sap is low in protein, it takes the cicadas a long time to grow into adults.

 

Image: Tray of giant cicadas.

Selecting items for the case of wooden artifacts was extremely difficult as we have so many beautiful pieces. I tried to select artifacts from many cultures, and for many purposes so there are clothes, furniture, toys, and tools from around the globe. One of my favorite pieces is a coat made from the inner fibre of a paper mulberry (Broussonetia papyrifera) tree from the South Pacific.

But my favorite piece of all is a bur oak (Quercus macrocarpa) tree that grew around a pitchfork. It reminds me that human endeavors are fleeting and that nature will reclaim everything in the end.

Trees of Life will be on display from October 10, 2013 to April 13, 2014.

An individual standing behind a table in a lab that is spread with artifacts.

Curator of History, Roland Sawatzky, with wooden artifacts.

A smiling individual holds up a piece of tree trunk mounted on a display board, growing around the metal end of a pitchfork.

Me with the pitchfork-eating tree!

Dr. Diana Bizecki Robson

Dr. Diana Bizecki Robson

Curator of Botany

Dr. Bizecki Robson obtained a Master’s Degree in Plant Ecology at the University of Saskatchewan studying rare plants of the mixed grass prairies. After working as an environmental consultant and sessional lecturer…
Meet Dr. Bizecki Robson

Mud, Glorious Mud?

By Dr. Graham Young, past Curator of Palaeontology & Geology

 

I have often been told by members of the public that, “it must be so exciting to do paleontological fieldwork.” This is true, it can be very exciting to visit new places, to discover and collect fossils that were previously unknown to science. But often the conditions are such that the fieldwork is more of a necessary evil. It is a step that must be passed to acquire essential specimens, rather than a pleasure in itself.

Last week was a case in point. I had planned to travel to the Grand Rapids Uplands of central Manitoba with Dave Rudkin (Royal Ontario Museum) and Michael Cuggy (University of Saskatchewan) to carry out a bit of additional collecting at some unusual fossil sites. We had chosen late September because (1) the weather is often dry and clear, and (2) the mosquitoes and blackflies have generally been depleted by this time of year.

It turned out that we were only partly right on just one of these assumptions: I don’t think I saw a single mosquito. Their absence was, however, compensated by the swarms of blackflies that descended whenever the wind died down. And that merciful wind was a chill, damp one, associated with rains that were at times heavy.

Dr. Graham Young seated on a rocky surface using a trowel to scrape thick mud off of knee pads worn over his yellow overpants. Mud covered his boots.

Scraping away the inch of mud adhering to my knee pads (photo: Dave Rudkin, Royal Ontario Museum)

An individual standing across a large puddle on a rocky ground.

Michael contemplates water “ponded” on the bedrock surface.

We first arrived at the main site on Wednesday afternoon. Under a relatively pleasant overcast sky, we spent several hours splitting rock, but found little in the way of specimens worth taking back to the Museum. By Thursday morning the torrential downpours had begun. These died off by the time we arrived at the site, but we discovered that the gently sloping limestone had been replaced by a “water garden” that combined both pond and waterfall features.

Donning multiple layers for protection from the rain and chill (I recall that I was wearing a t-shirt, flannel shirt, fleece, jean jacket, and rain jacket!), we swept away as much of the water as possible, then settled back into our splitting routine. The standard procedure is to place the chisel along a horizontal zone of weakness in the rock, hammer until the rock begins to split, lever it up with a pry bar, wash mud off the surfaces and examine for fossils.  If no fossils are found, you throw the slab onto the discard pile and start again. After an hour or two this becomes wearying and repetitive. By the time the heavy rain returned at 2 pm, at least some of the chill from the rock surface had transferred itself into my knees and back, and I was grateful that we could stop.

 

Image: Michael and me, at work along a damp bedrock surface (photo: Dave Rudkin, Royal Ontario Museum)

By Friday the rain had ceased, but much of its moisture seemed to have attached itself to any clay that remained on and adjacent to the bedrock, resulting in large patches of wonderfully glutinous mud. Our crawling in this mud was at least worthwhile, as we came upon an area of rock that was very rich in fossils. We hauled out nine partial eurypterids (“sea scorpions”), along with other associated bits and pieces. By the end of the day Michael and I looked rather disgusting, encrusted with mud as we were. We were also disgusted with Dave, because he somehow managed to avoid getting mud on himself!

An oblong eurypterid fossil in a slab of rock.

An Ordovician eurypterid from the Grand Rapids Uplands (specimen I-4036B).

Two individuals wearing and orange and a blue jacket standing for a photo next to a small pile of rock slabs along with tools like a broom and hammer.

Dave and Michael stand by the cluster of eurypterid-bearing slabs.

Saturday we had planned to do quick stops at several sites, prior to returning to Winnipeg in the afternoon. Of course, by now the weather had improved and we were greeted by a sunny, mild day with patchy cloud. Nevertheless, we were not unhappy that we had finished heavy collecting on the main site, as the blackflies had returned in profusion.

So if paleontologists tell you they are off to do fieldwork, you should not immediately imagine a romantic, exciting “dig”, in a setting reminiscent of that at the start of Jurassic Park. The specimens are often worth the pain, but the pain is often genuine!

The Collection for Adventurers!

I am one month in to my new job as Curator of the Hudson’s Bay Company (HBC) Museum Collection at The Manitoba Museum and I’m still in that “pinch-me” phase, it feels too good to be true. Why? Let me fill you in.

I grew up in Winnipeg and I LOVED The Manitoba Museum. It was through visits to this museum, and other fabulous museums and historic sites in Manitoba, that I developed my interest and passion for human history. When I moved away for graduate school I never thought that a job would open up in my hometown, let alone at my beloved museum. Yet here I am, I’ve secured my dream job!

Maybe you’re wondering what makes this job so dreamy, or maybe you too have a long-time love affair with this place so you completely understand where I’m coming from. We are so lucky to have a museum right here in Winnipeg that has something for everyone. For me, the HBC collection is particularly exciting as it consists of 26,200 artifacts that I get to explore and to present to you.

Photo looking at the closed double doors of a museum storage room. A large sign on one of the doors reads, "Hudson's Bay Company Museum Collection / Euro-Canadian Storage / (Trade Goods)".

One of 3 large storage rooms for the HBC collection.

An open cabinet with spaced out drawers. One is opened revealing woolen blankets.

An entire cabinet full of point blankets!

The Hudson’s Bay Company’s original name was ‘the Governor and Company of Adventurers of England trading into Hudson Bay’. The Company of Adventurers referred to those who owned stock, they were called ‘adventurers’ because they risked their own money on the establishment of the fur trade. I feel a bit like an adventurer myself, as I get to explore the vast collections. In the coming months I’ll share my discoveries with you, no financial risk required!

Dr. Amelia Fay

Dr. Amelia Fay

Curator of Anthropology & the HBC Museum Collection

Amelia Fay is Curator of Anthropology and the HBC Museum Collection at the Manitoba Museum. She received her BA in Anthropology from the University of Manitoba (2004), an MA in Archaeology…
Meet Dr. Amelia Fay

New Guidebooks Published

By Dr. Graham Young, past Curator of Palaeontology & Geology

 

Following on from my recent post about the geology of the Canadian Museum for Human Rights, it seems entirely appropriate timing that another piece of architectural geology work has just been published. Last week, a guidebook to the geology of the Manitoba Legislative Building, by Jeff Young, Bill Brisbin, and me, finally appeared in downloadable form. The entire file (20 megabytes) can be found here.

An aerial view of the Manitoba Legislative Building - a large building with a central tower ending in a dome with a gold statue at the top.

The Manitoba Legislative Building (photo by Jeff Young).

Interior of an imposing round room with pillars and a large arched doorway. In the centre of the room is a circular banister with a skylight looking down to the lower floor.

The Rotunda inside the Manitoba Legislative Building features walls of Manitoba Tyndall Stone, and floors of Tennessee marble, Verde Antique marble, and Ordovician black marble.

This book was published as part of a series of field trip guides for the Geological Association of Canada – Mineralogical Association of Canada annual meeting, which took place in Winnipeg in May. Jeff Young (University of Manitoba) and I had the pleasure of leading an afternoon tour of the Legislative Building; it is such an interesting and beautiful structure, and it is always a pleasure to see people’s reactions to its geological features. The guidebook is based on research Jeff and I did with Bill Brisbin (also of U of M) almost a decade ago.

In addition to the Legislature guidebook, I also enjoyed assisting with a field trip on the Ordovician to Silurian geology of southern Manitoba. The guidebook for that trip (26 megabytes), by Bob Elias et al., can be downloaded here.

Take Me Away: gettin’ around when you’re stuck in the ground

One of the problems with being a plant is that you can’t move away if the habitat you are growing in becomes unsuitable. Plants have thus developed a life stage that is capable of moving: fruits and seeds.

Some plants use wind to distribute their seeds. Root parasites like louseworts (Pedicularis), produce thousands of seeds that are so small the wind can blow them around for miles. The seeds of these parasites cannot germinate unless they contact the root of a host plant. Fortunately, their small seeds are blown or washed into cracks in the soil, making it easier for them to reach the roots of their hosts. Indian-pipe (Monotropa uniflora) and coralroots (Corallorhiza) also have small seeds, except they depend on special fungus in the soil to help them obtain food.

A small, low-growing plant with clusters of yellow flowers at the ends of the upright pointing branches.

Louseworts are parasitic on the roots of other plants.

Close up on two fluffy pink tufts on the ends of two stems.

Three-flowered avens has fruits that can become airborne.

Other plants have special structures to help a fruit or seed catch the wind. Conifers and broad-leaved trees like Manitoba maple (Acer negundo), produce seeds with wings to help it glide. Milkweed (Asclepias) and three-flowered avens (Geum triflorum) have seeds or fruits with tufts of hair to catch the wind.

In tumbleweeds like bugseed (Corispermum), the entire plant dries up when the seeds reach maturity. When the stem breaks off, the plant is rolled along the ground by the wind, and the ripe seeds fall off.

Plants also employ animals to disperse fruits and seeds. Some fruits like Cocklebur (Xanthium strumarium), have hooks that catch onto the fur of passing animals (including dogs and hikers socks!). The animals later rub off these “burs”.

A small spindly plant, low-growing in sandy soil.

Bugseed plants form tumbleweeds to disperse their seeds.

A plant growing up from sandy soil, with clusters of burrs growing on it close to the stem.

Cockleburs grow along river banks where thirsty animals congregate.

Unfortunately for plants, seeds are very nutritious. To prevent too many seeds from getting eaten by animals, species like bur oak (Quercus macrocarpa) produce extremely large quantities of seeds in certain years (called “mast” years). By producing lots of seed all at once, the plant ensures that the animals will not eat all of them. As a bonus, many seed-eating animals ‘plant’ the seeds they don’t eat right away.

The development of fleshy fruits was essentially a decoy to prevent animals from consuming the seeds inside. The seeds of most fleshy fruits have a hard seed coat that makes them indigestible, and many are also poisonous: cherry (Prunus) seeds contain cyanide and apple (Malus) seeds contain arsenic. If the seeds are eaten, they simply exit the body of the animal intact and surrounded by a dollop of warm fertilizer (bonus!). To prevent animals from eating fruits before the seeds are ripe, the fruit colour blends in with the leaves of the plant. As the fruits ripen, they turn red or black and produce an enchanting smell. Who can resist?

A branch with only a few green leaves left on the tips of the branch with acorn caps on the branches.

Bur oaks acorns are buried by squirrels in mast years.

A handful of small dark cherries growing among green leaves near to the ground in sandy soil.

Mmmm sand cherries. Ripe and ready to be eaten by a hungry bear.

Plants have evolved many different methods to get around. If you have ever picked burs off your socks or eaten berries before, our green brethren have recruited you, too, as their courier.

Dr. Diana Bizecki Robson

Dr. Diana Bizecki Robson

Curator of Botany

Dr. Bizecki Robson obtained a Master’s Degree in Plant Ecology at the University of Saskatchewan studying rare plants of the mixed grass prairies. After working as an environmental consultant and sessional lecturer…
Meet Dr. Bizecki Robson

Geology of the Canadian Museum for Human Rights: Part 3

By Dr. Graham Young, past Curator of Palaeontology & Geology

A group of individuals wearing high-vis vests and hard hats near the exterior wall of a large stone building under construction.

2. Mongolian Basalt

Slabs of dark igneous stone, apparently basalt or diabase, can be seen covering some walls in the lower parts of the museum, but for a geological appreciation of volcanic rock the visitors must wait until they have passed upward into the huge Garden of Contemplation. This is the finest place I know of for viewing columnar-jointed igneous rocks, between Thunder Bay and the Rockies!

 

Image: Walls of Tyndall Stone (left) and dark igneous stone in the lower part of the museum.

Columnar jointing is a term used to describe the polygonal columns seen in many volcanic rocks. These developed as a result of stresses, when lava cools from a molten form. Famous columnar basalts can be seen in places like the Giant’s Causeway in Northern Ireland, and at many sites around the Bay of Fundy in eastern Canada (columnar-jointed bedrock in the Lake Nipigon area of Ontario has a similar appearance, though much of it may have actually formed from magma that was intruded between other rocks, rather than erupted onto the Earth’s surface).

View of a large rocky hillside next to a roadway.

Columnar-jointed igneous rock caps this hill in the Lake Nipigon area, Ontario.

View of a large rocky hillside next to a body of water with incoming mist.

Columnar-jointed basalt at Southwest Head, Grand Manan Island, New Brunswick.

View from several stories up, looking down towards a space with rock-lined water elements. The area is well lit by large wall to wall windows.

The stone that I saw being installed in the Garden of Contemplation consists of 617 metric tonnes of Mongolian basalt. 617 metric tonnes Ogunad, Mongolia – architect Antoine Predock had a particular vision about materials – large surfaces, not so much as features – outcome of what could be done only with computer-assisted design – based on hundreds of piles and caissons, presumably down to bedrock that underlies the river and lake deposits that make Winnipeg ground so unstable – ramps cross over a “canyon” of dark concrete – total of 18,000 square metres of Tyndall Stone – much of it exposed as rough surfaces  – these are stylolites (pressure solution features), which are the natural planes of weakness within the bedrock – I assume that the alabaster is slabbed bed-parallel to give it this appearance – glass, concrete, and steel are also geologically-derived materials, of course references Geomorphology 81 (2006) 155–165 Did the Ebro basin connect to the Mediterranean before the Messinian salinity crisis? Julien Babault a,⁎, Nicolas Loget b, Jean Van Den Driessche a, Sébastien Castelltort c, Stéphane Bonnet a, Philippe Davy

Geology of the Canadian Museum for Human Rights: Part 1

By Dr. Graham Young, past Curator of Palaeontology & Geology

A large irregularly shaped building that is almost shaped like an upward growing spiral building to a central tower. The left side is a light tan stone and the right side is predominantly windows.

The construction of the Canadian Museum for Human Rights (CMHR) in Winnipeg has been the subject of tremendous public interest and media coverage. As opening nears for this institution, our first national museum outside the Ottawa area, I have read discussions of the planned exhibits and galleries, conversations concerning the relationship between the museum and local communities, and assessments of the architecture of the spectacular building. I have not, however, seen anything on a topic that may be of great interest to this page’s visitors: is the Canadian Museum for Human Rights worth looking at for its geological features?

 

Image: Construction site at the Canadian Museum for Human Rights, June, 2013.

Having received a tour of the interior construction site in April, followed up more recently by careful examination of the building’s exterior, I have to respond to this question with a full-voiced “yes.” The CMHR does not contain as great a variety of building stones as some older buildings in downtown Winnipeg, but some of the materials are of types not readily seen in other structures, and the immense scale of the structure permits a geological experience that may be unparalleled elsewhere in this town.

The following descriptions are based largely on my brief observations of a building still very much under construction, along with what I could glean from the web and some information received from helpful staff at CMHR. Since a thorough examination is not possible at this stage, and since surfaces were still being installed when I saw them, it is entirely probable that I have missed or misinterpreted some of the geological materials. I am also, for the moment, ignoring the site geology and materials other than stone. At some point in the future I hope that we can write a detailed consideration of CMHR’s geology, comparable to our work on the Manitoba Legislative Building (a pdf can be found here).

A large irregularly shaped building that is almost shaped like an upward growing spiral building to a central tower. This side of the building is primarily windows. In front of the building are piles of gravel and stone, as the site is under construction.

Outside the museum, stone is being installed to integrate the building with the surrounding landscape.

Looking up at the angular side of a stone building topped with a metal and windowed tower.

On the building’s exterior, Tyndall Stone walls appear as a stack of irregular polygons.

To a Winnipegger walking outside the CMHR, the immense surfaces of Manitoba Tyndall Stone are both familiar and obvious. Since this stone is locally ubiquitous, I will instead begin with the more unusual materials in the museum’s interior. As you enter the building, some of the introductory areas seem dark and low, walled largely with ochre-coloured concrete along with feature walls of other materials. Passing upward into more open spaces, you have your first glance of the extensive ramp system that allows visitors to walk through the many museum areas.

Looking up at crisscrossing silverish coloured stone ramps.

Standing in a corner of a ramp that goes lower to the left and rises to the right. Individuals in high-vis vests and hard hats are further up on the right-side ramp.

Looking up at crisscrossing silverish coloured stone ramps.

1. Spanish Alabaster

The walking surfaces of the ramps are concrete, but the sides are Spanish alabaster, quarried in Zaragoza, Aragon, Spain. Alabaster is a translucent, lustrous stone, long used by humans because it is beautiful and easy to work with. The CMHR alabaster is cut quite thin, about 2 cm (or 3/4″), and with the natural light it glows magically when backlit.

Geologically, two major types of material are considered as “alabasters”: gypsum (hydrous sulfate of calcium) and calcite (calcium carbonate). Neither kind of alabaster is resistant to rain and moisture, so both are only suitable for indoor use. The CMHR alabaster is of the gypsum sort; it is quite a soft material, but the crystals are tiny and tightly bound together, permitting both the polish and the translucent quality. Pure alabaster is white, and the beautiful colours and patterns actually come from impurities such as clays.

Sunlight shining through the opaque side of an alabaster ramp.

Translucent alabaster on the side of a ramp.

A stone room with a ramp crossing the centre. The room is under construction with carious tools and equipment on the main floor.

These views of ramps show the beautiful variation in tone and colour of alabaster.

The incomplete end of a large alabaster ramp with a barricade at the end as it is still under construction.

The Aragonese alabaster was quarried from near-horizontal beds in the Ebro Basin of northeastern Spain. It formed during the Oligocene and Miocene epochs (roughly 34 to 5 million years ago). During this interval, the Ebro Basin was endorheic (i.e., it had internal drainage and was not connected to the sea). As a result the water often became very saline (briny), and salts were precipitated out to form bedded chemical rock, most notably the gypsum that makes up this alabaster. The Aragonese alabaster is quarried by Alabaster New Concept.

Manitoba also has considerable gypsum deposits in our Jurassic sedimentary rocks. These can be seen at places such as Gypsumville and Amaranth, but as far as I know there is none of alabaster grade.

________________________________

Part 2 of this geological tour will follow soon, with an explanation of the dark stone that can be seen in the spectacular Garden of Contemplation and other places in the museum’s interior.

Winnipeg Tribune Head is Found

A large terra cotta face, with a hand beside it in the lower left corner for scale.

Some time ago, after the donation of a “gargoyle” that once graced the former Winnipeg Tribune Building, we put out a call to the public to see if any more of these strange terra cotta statues would show up (see my blog of March 30, 2012). Fourteen are known to have existed, and The Manitoba Museum had two. We did get some calls, with two leads to something I had not expected: giant grotesque heads that adorned the exterior of the building at the top of the first storey – (the gargoyles were soaring at 6 storeys). I checked out the original architectural plans at the Archives of Manitoba, and it turns out there were fourteen of these heads as well!

It’s believed that this head might represent a newspaper boy.

 

Image: Terra cotta “grotesque” from the Winnipeg Tribune Building, 1913.

I also mentioned in my previous blog that I was trying to identify the original artist. Well, I found out that all the grotesques were made at the American Terra Cotta and Ceramic Company factory near Chicago, Illinois. The artist may have been Kristian E. Schneider, a Norwegian immigrant who worked with American Terra Cotta from about 1906 to 1930. He was their lead sculptor and modeller and had early in his career worked very closely with Louis Sullivan, the famous architect of the “Chicago School”. Sullivan was instrumental in the development of the steel beam skyscraper, and his work also influenced the architect of the Winnipeg Tribune Building, John D.Atchison, who commissioned the grotesques. It seems that for a brief time at least, Winnipeg really was a Chicago of the North.

Dr. Roland Sawatzky

Dr. Roland Sawatzky

Curator of History

Roland Sawatzky joined The Manitoba Museum in 2011. He received his B.A. in Anthropology from the University of Winnipeg, M.A. in Anthropology from the University of South Carolina, and Ph.D. in Archaeology…
Meet Dr. Roland Sawatzky

The Scientific Method: A Reality Check

If you have ever heard someone say “I have a theory about that” they don’t. They’re most likely confusing the word “theory” with “completely unsupported, untested hypothesis”. All kidding aside, the words “theory” and “hypothesis” mean something very specific to a scientist, and the former is actually a much stronger statement than the latter. Since most people are not scientists but sometimes need to judge the value of someone’s statements, it can be useful to have at least a rudimentary understanding of how the scientific process works.

The journey to creating a theory is a long and arduous one and, in fact, one that most scientists will only ever contribute peripherally to. But every journey starts with a first step so that is where we will begin. In addition to the scientific jargon, I have taken the liberty of translating it into everyday vernacu… umm, language (it’s hard to stop using big words when you’ve spent 22 years in school).

A cluster of small white flowers with yellow centres, which a bumble bee on the top.

Step 1

Select a topic for study.
Translation: Read so many scientific journals that your eyeballs dry up and your head explodes.

Step 2

Contemplate.
Translation: Think really hard about what you’ve read. Unfortunately thinking looks a lot like slacking off. So keep a file open on your computer and sit in front of it while you’re thinking in case someone walks by. That way it looks like you’re working. Which you are of course, it just doesn’t look like it!

Step 3

State your hypothesis and the opposite of it, which will be the null hypothesis.
Translation: Make an educated guess regarding what will happen.  Or not.

 

Image: Watching bumblebees made me wonder why they visited certain flowers more than others.

A patch of ground with tufty, wild growing grass. On the far side are some folding chairs and a bush with reddish tinged leaves.

Step 4

Design an experiment to test your hypotheses.
Translation: Create a beautifully designed experiment that will win you awards and accolades from your peers!  Fantasize about winning a Nobel prize.

Step 5

Conduct the experiment and collect data.
Translation: Discover that nature really doesn’t like beautifully designed experiments and will vindictively do everything it can (late frosts, hail, floods etc.) to screw with your research so that you have to change everything on the fly just to get some publishable results!

 

Image: A research plot in Spruce Woods Provincial Park, MB.

A hand reaches into frame holding a tuft next to a small cluster of purple flowers.

Step 6

Analyze the data.
Translation: Create so many spreadsheets and conduct so many statistical tests that you can no longer find anything on your computer.

Step 7

Determine which hypothesis was correct and why.
Translation: Shout “eureka” if your hypothesis is correct or “oh nuts”, when it isn’t. If you said “oh nuts” double check your data and analytical techniques just in case you made a mistake. Discover that you didn’t make a mistake. Say “oh nuts!” again. Conduct another literature search to try to figure out why the null hypothesis was correct instead of the hypothesis.

 

Image: I conducted a hand pollination experiment on a rare plant.

Step 8

Write a paper for a peer reviewed journal.
Translation: Spend several months preparing a paper and ensuring that the formatting meets the requirements of the most prestigious journal in your field. Submit. Receive rejection letter. Reformat your paper for a less prestigious journal and submit. Receive scathing peer reviews of your paper. Swear. Reluctantly make suggested changes to the paper while grumbling about it to anyone that will listen. Even more reluctantly conclude that the reviewers’ changes do indeed greatly improve your paper. Submit final version. Send a reprint to your mother.

 

Although I was intentionally being silly, the fact of the matter is that a research project never goes off without a hitch.   Science is certainly one thing: a learning experience.

Dr. Diana Bizecki Robson

Dr. Diana Bizecki Robson

Curator of Botany

Dr. Bizecki Robson obtained a Master’s Degree in Plant Ecology at the University of Saskatchewan studying rare plants of the mixed grass prairies. After working as an environmental consultant and sessional lecturer…
Meet Dr. Bizecki Robson