When, at least 12,000 years ago, human beings first crossed into
North America from Siberia, the continent teemed with large
animals. Today, of course, our only encounters with giant
short-faced bears, enormous sloths and dozens of other such
extinct species come in museums. On this much,
archaeologists and paleontologists agree. The causes of this
mass extinction, however, remain clouded by conflicting
findings and holes in the archaeological record.
The mystery extends far beyond North America. Between about
50,000 and 10,000 years ago, near the end of the
Pleistocene, much of the world's megafauna (usually defined
as animals weighing at least 100 pounds) disappeared. At the
same time, Homo sapiens was expanding from Africa
into Eurasia, Australia and the Americas. The late
Pleistocene also witnessed dramatic climate change, especially
during the period of warming and deglaciation that followed the
Last Glacial Maximum some 20,000 years ago.
This
convergence of events makes for exciting—and sometimes
contentious—science. High-impact human hunting, referred
to by archaeologists as "overkill," and climate
change are the two most cited possible causes of the
extinctions, but the role of each remains contested.
The debate began to heat up in the late 1960s after Paul S.
Martin, a professor of geosciences at the University of
Arizona, first proposed a "blitzkrieg" model of
human overkill for North America—basically, overkill
on fast forward. In this scenario, humans moved rapidly
through the continent, slaughtering mammoths, mastodons and
other large prey as they went. Within about 1,000 years,
most North American endemic megafauna were gone.
The
blitzkrieg hypothesis has since been applied elsewhere, but it
remains controversial. Criticism has focused on the lack of
archaeological evidence, a charge Martin has responded to by
arguing that, if the extinctions occurred quickly, there
would be little trace of the massacre in the fossil record.
Archaeologists Donald Grayson of the University of
Washington and David Meltzer of Southern Methodist
University have been particularly critical of Martin's
response, calling it "faith-based" science.
Two recent papers, both published in Proceedings of the
National Academy of Sciences of the U.S.A., try
to help settle the question. Todd Surovell and Nicole
Waguespack of the University of Wyoming and P. Jeffrey
Brantingham of the University of California, Los Angeles,
studied the timing and location of Pleistocene encounters
between humans and proboscideans (the order that includes
mammoths, mastodons and elephants) and found evidence supporting
the overkill hypothesis. Meanwhile, Clive N. G. Trueman of
the University of Portsmouth and Judith H. Field of the
University of Sydney were part of a multinational team that
confirmed the age of megafauna fossils at a site in eastern
Australia, concluding that their work weakens claims for
overkill in the land Down Under.
Surovell, Waguespack
and Brantingham outlined two possible extinction scenarios,
one based on human overkill and the other on climate change.
They then plugged into their models data from 41
archaeological sites in Africa, Europe, Asia and the Americas
that contain remains of proboscideans hunted or scavenged by
humans. If people hunted these animals to extinction, the
authors argue, the kill sites should appear along the border
between proboscidean and human ranges. So, as humans
expanded south across North America, for example, the sites
would also be located farther and farther south. If climate
was the culprit, then people and proboscideans should have
shared some of the same territory, at least until climate
change shrunk proboscidean habitat. Thus, kill sites would be
found both along and behind the frontier of human
expansion.
The authors concluded that the location and age
of the sites correlate closely with an overkill model. As
humans moved north into Eurasia from Africa and, later,
south from Alaska across the Americas, proboscidean range
contracted correspondingly. Climate change, then, cannot
account for proboscidean extinction "unless one were to
invoke serial climatic change that perfectly tracks human
global colonization." The odds, they're saying, aren't
good.
Although the authors do not claim to have proved that
humans drove other species to extinction, Surovell is
skeptical of arguments for climate change. "I would
like to see somebody explain how climate change could cause
mass extinction on such a large geographical scale," he
says. "Climate is constantly changing."
In
Australia, much of the evidence for overkill relies on proving
that many large animals became extinct within several millennia
of the first appearance of humans, usually estimated at
about 50,000 years ago. Unlike other parts of the world,
nothing in Australia's fossil record proves that humans
hunted megafauna. As Trueman and Field note in their paper,
there aren't even any sites with evidence that early
inhabitants had the tools to kill large animals.
Trueman
and Field discuss the dates of a controversial
archaeological site, Cuddie Springs, that might prove that at
least some Australian megafauna survived much longer than
previously thought, dealing a blow to arguments for
overkill. The site includes remains of several extinct
animals, including Diprotodon, a two-ton marsupial,
and Genyornis, a large, flightless bird. Previous
efforts, made using radiocarbon dating and other methods,
have concluded that some megafauna remains found there are
36,000 to 30,000 years old, but the findings have been
disputed. Trueman and Field used a newer technique in their
recent work, an analysis of rare earth elements (REEs) in
bone fragments, and confirmed these dates. As they're
buried, bones adsorb REEs, leaving a "fingerprint"
that links the bones to their original layer of
deposition.
Proving that people coexisted with large animals
for 10,000 years or more would not necessarily remove humans
from the extinction equation, but it would make it more
likely that other factors, such as climate, also played a
key part. Field, for one, is convinced that the findings at
Cuddie Springs disprove the possibility of blitzkrieg in
Australia and cast doubt on the overkill hypothesis. It's
about time, she says, "to start entertaining other ideas
about the extinction process."
Not everyone is
convinced. In a 2001 paper published in Science,
Richard G. Roberts of the University of Wollongong and a
team of investigators found evidence of widespread Australian
megafauna extinctions by about 46,000 years ago, concluding that
humans must have played an important role. Roberts says that he
still has "some strong reservations" about the recent
paper. He notes that REEs are usually used to date much older
bones, for which an error of thousands of years one way or
the other would be insignificant. Although he himself is not
entirely persuaded by blitzkrieg, he does think that it
remains a possibility.
If Pleistocene humans hunted some
large animals to extinction but blitzkrieg is ruled out as a
possibility in Australia, as the recent findings suggest,
the search for an overarching theory may be futile. In a
review of recent research on the extinctions, published in
the October 1, 2004, issue of Science, coauthors
Anthony D. Barnosky, Paul L. Koch, Robert S. Feranec, Scott
L. Wing and Alan B. Shabel argued that it will be more
productive to look for localized, species-by-species
explanations than a single cause. Some combination of
climate change and human activity, they think, probably
determined the fate of much of the world's megafauna.
Implicating multiple factors might not be as satisfying as
convicting a single perpetrator, but it may better explain the
evidence at hand. And as the Science authors point out,
the combination of climate change and human action can have
a much greater effect on the world's animal species than
either factor alone. There's no debate that both are today
affecting the viability of the remaining
megafauna.—Amos Esty