Singing lullabies is learned, not innate, study suggests
Is the impulse to dance or sing a lullaby universal? Anthropologists have long thought so, but a recent analysis suggests the behaviors are learned, not hardwired in people.
The study, published in Current Biology, focuses on the 800 members of the Northern Aché, an Indigenous people in Paraguay. One of the authors, Arizona State University anthropologist Kim Hill, has worked with the Northern Aché since the 1970s, learning their language, living among them and observing their culture.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Yahoo
13 hours ago
- Yahoo
'Lost Colony' of Roanoke may have assimilated into Indigenous society, archaeologist claims — but not everyone is convinced
When you buy through links on our articles, Future and its syndication partners may earn a commission. Archaeologists have uncovered two large piles of iron flakes on North Carolina's Hatteras Island that they say are evidence of a 16th-century "Lost Colony" of English settlers who disappeared in 1587. But some experts are unconvinced and say more evidence is needed. "We've been digging there for 10 years off and on," Mark Horton, an archaeology professor at the Royal Agricultural University in the U.K., told Live Science, "and I think the real breakthrough was the hammer scale mixed in with 16th-century artifacts." Hammer scale is a flaky byproduct of traditional blacksmithing. When iron is heated, a thin layer of iron oxide can form, which is then crushed into small pieces as the blacksmith hammers the iron. "The colonists must have been desperate for a type of material that they otherwise didn't have," Horton said. "They're forging new iron artifacts from the material that they've got with them," he said, to make "new nails for building houses or ships." Horton studies the Lost Colony, a group of about 120 English settlers who arrived on Roanoke Island in North Carolina's Outer Banks in 1587. The colonists struggled to survive and sent their leader, John White, back to England for supplies. When White returned in 1590, he couldn't find his compatriots — but he discovered the word "CROATOAN" carved into wood. For centuries, historians and archaeologists have been puzzled by the disappearance of the colony. They've wondered whether the Croatoan tribe killed the settlers or whether the English moved elsewhere, perhaps to live with members of the Croatoan tribe on what is now called Hatteras Island. Related: Jamestown colonists killed and ate the dogs of Indigenous Americans "But then last summer, we did an excavation on Hatteras Island, and we found hammer scale in a pit underneath a thick shell midden that contains virtually no European material in it at all," Horton said, adding that he thinks the English basically assimilated into the Indigenous tribe. Radiocarbon dating of the layer of dirt in which the hammer scale was found suggests its age aligns with the Lost Colony. Since hammer scale is waste and not something that is traded, and because the Indigenous people are not known to have used iron forging technology, this iron trash strongly suggests that the English settlers made it to Hatteras Island in the late 16th century, Horton said. His group's finding has not yet been published in a peer-reviewed journal. The new discovery fits in well with historical and archaeological information, Kathleen DuVal, a history professor at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, told Live Science. "It absolutely makes sense that the Lost Colony would have moved to Hatteras Island," DuVal said. "They wrote exactly where they were going: to Croatoan." But not everyone is convinced by the piles of hammer scale. "I would like to see a hearth if we're talking about forging activity," Charles Ewen, a professor emeritus of archaeology at East Carolina University, told Live Science. And even then, the hammer scale may be from Indigenous people's repurposing of the colonists' items for their own use, Ewen said, or it could even be trash from 16th-century explorers and settlers who stopped over while sailing the Gulf Stream up the East Coast. "The hammer scale is just not doing it for me without good context — and without a report, I'm not seeing good context," he said. Horton said that, with archaeological excavations largely complete at the site — which is on private land, with cooperation from the landowner — he and his team plan to move forward with a publication. RELATED STORIES —Bear hair and fish weirs: Meet the Indigenous people combining modern science with ancestral principles to protect the land —Ancient DNA reveals mysterious Indigenous group from Colombia that disappeared 2,000 years ago —Ancient Indigenous lineage of Blackfoot Confederacy goes back 18,000 years to last ice age, DNA reveals "The hammer scale is another piece of really compelling evidence that we've got," Horton said, "but there are still several loose ends." For example, it is still a mystery whether some of the colonists moved elsewhere and whether some of them died at the Roanoke Island or Hatteras Island settlements. Ewen, who co-authored the 2024 book "Becoming the Lost Colony: The History, Lore and Popular Culture of the Roanoke Mystery" (McFarland, 2024), said the archaeological and historical evidence does not clarify what happened to the Lost Colony. But he thinks that someday, the mystery might be solved, particularly "if we could find European burials that we could tie to the 16th century with European materials and not trade items," Ewen said.
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Yahoo
'Diving into a different world': Why an ASU professor studies the ocean in the desert
When Susanne Neuer closed her eyes, she could see it: the crystal clear waters of the Mediterranean. A smile broke out on her face as she reminisced about the times her family visited the coastline of Ibiza. She has fallen in love with the ocean over and over, each time her family visited when she was young. She pictured a life on a boat fitted with all sorts of research equipment, salt in her face and the waves beneath her feet. No land for miles and miles. And she had that life, for a little bit. Her research cruises were far from luxurious. Neuer said they were "spartan" in a way. But they were exactly what she wanted. "Just the sea in all its different states," she said. "The terrible waves that make me seasick or a smooth ocean and beautiful sunsets, and then the animals, the dolphins that come about and play in the wake of the ship," Neuer said, her cadence speeding up with excitement. "It's really diving into a different world." Neuer's life took a sharp left turn to the desert in 2000 when she landed in Arizona after her husband got a job at Arizona State University. The desert landscape was a stark difference from the glittering blue waves dotted with bioluminescent plankton. She eventually found her place in Arizona, becoming a world-renowned researcher studying the role of ocean life in the carbon cycle. In 2022, Neuer was named the founding director of Arizona State University's School of Ocean Futures, a unique position to teach desert dwellers about the ocean. Neuer, 62, grew up in southern Germany, hundreds of miles away from the ocean in all directions. But her family vacationed in Ibiza, a Spanish island, and the ocean waves lapped at the edges of her mind. She wanted to learn more about the ocean. So, she turned to the ponds and streams that surrounded her hometown, flipping over rocks and digging into the dirt and mud. When she was in her early teens, she worked one summer at a garden shop to buy her own microscope so she could uncover the mysteries in the water. It changed her life. She knew it then, that she would study the ocean and the microorganisms that were only revealed to her through the microscope on those summer days. Her university studies took her first to the University of Heidelberg in west Germany, then north to the University of Kiel on the Baltic Sea, a far cry from the warm embrace of the Mediterranean. It was one of the only places Neuer could study marine science, she said. Then, she found out about the Fulbright Program, and she was accepted at the University of Washington to study oceanography. She planned to only stay in the U.S. for a year until she met her husband on a trip to California with other Fulbright students. "I realized that, you know, that this was probably serious," Neuer said. She and her husband, who was from Spain, decided to stay and finish out their studies in the U.S. They had a daughter, finished their doctoral degrees and moved back to Germany for postdoctoral work. The family stayed in Germany for six years. "There was, back then, no way we could stay both and get both permanent positions in Germany," she said. "We said the first one who would get at tenure track offer would take the other one along." Her husband beat her to the punch. He landed a job at ASU in the middle of the Sonoran Desert, perfect for his career as a microbiologist focused on desert soil. Not so perfect for Neuer's career in oceanography. When Neuer arrived in Arizona in 2000, she was lonely. The lone oceanographer in a sea of sand and hours away from the brilliant blue ocean — again. She followed her husband's lead and got a job at ASU. She taught oceanography through the geology department and spent more time with geologists than biologists. She tried teaching as many courses about marine life as possible and ended up pioneering degrees focused on environmental and marine sciences. She fell in love with teaching, even if it meant being in the desert. She said that's a benefit, not a detriment. "You can't really understand our planet and how our planet works without the oceans," Neuer said. "(The ocean) is so intricately engrained in our climate and our weather. ... Here in Arizona, you know, we receive water that enables life in the desert, and that water has come evaporated from the ocean." As the years dragged on, she was still the only oceanographer at the university. Sure, there were biologists and geologists and other "ologists," but none focused solely on the ocean, like Neuer. She eventually found a home in the School of Life Sciences, where her programs lived for 20 years. She developed curricula for students and led the graduate program. That's how she met Jesse Senko. Senko was at ASU as a doctoral candidate studying biology in 2011. Senko, from Connecticut, had planned on staying in Arizona for four years, just long enough to get his degree. His dream was to study marine life, specifically sea turtles. He wasn't sure if he was going to make it if not for Neuer. "She provided a safe space for me," Senko said. "If it wasn't for her, I definitely would've left the school, and I don't even know if I would've gotten a Ph.D." More than 10 years later, Senko hasn't left Arizona. He hasn't even left ASU, all because of Neuer. After years of being the lone oceanographer, Neuer founded a home for people like her. Like Senko. Those passionate about the ocean while loving the desert. Neuer was named the director of ASU's School of Ocean Futures in 2022, a "180-degree turn from being the lonely oceanographer to becoming the founding director of that school," she said. The school opened in 2023 and began offering degree programs in 2024. Students are able to study from across the world, from Hawaii to Bermuda. Senko teaches at the school and leads students on research trips to Baja California in northwest Mexico to study sea turtles. "We are connected," Neuer said, "considering the ocean as a home." News alerts in your inbox: Don't miss the important news of the day. Sign up for azcentral newsletter alerts to be in the know. Reporter Lauren De Young covers Tempe, Chandler, Maricopa County and transportation. Reach her at This article originally appeared on Arizona Republic: Why an ASU professor studies the ocean in the desert
Hamilton Spectator
4 days ago
- Hamilton Spectator
Caribou and ice monitoring projects among 29 recipients of funding
Water, fish, landscape and caribou monitoring are among the 29 recipients of the 2025-26 NWT Cumulative Impact Monitoring Program (CIMP). A list of the 29 recipients, seven of which are focused on gathering traditional knowledge, 21 are traditional scientific endeavours and one combining the two fields, was released on Tuesday. 'These monitoring and research projects help us to better understand cumulative impacts to caribou, water, and fish in the Northwest Territories,' said Environment and Climate Change Minister Jay Macdonald. 'I'm happy that NWT CIMP continues its support working with Indigenous knowledge to better inform decision-making, through collaboration.' In total, $2.2 million was doled out to the research projects, seven of which are new projects and 15 of which are near completion. Being named a CIMP recipient opens the door to up to $70,000 in funding for up to three years. Projects vary in length from three-year projects to up to 16 year-long efforts. Several major caribou projects are wrapping up this year, including a 16-year-long effort by the Tlicho government to follow the Bathhurst and Bluenose caribou herds through their summer and fall ranges. Along with this long-term project a number of shorter three and six-year projects monitoring caribou diet, habitat, genetics, behaviour and documenting how traditional knowledge maps out the relationship between the caribou and the Inuvialuit. A second study documenting the relationship between the caribou and the Deninu Kue First Nation has one more year of work to do. Numerous water monitoring projects documenting toxicology levels, pollutants and long-term viability of ice roads are also near completion. Which projects receive funding is determined by a steering committee consisting of appointees from the NWT's Indigenous governments, Indigenous organizations, federal and territorial governments and co-management boards. Aside from contributing to the overall wealth of human knowledge, the projects also inform decision making at the GNWT and other government levels. Error! Sorry, there was an error processing your request. There was a problem with the recaptcha. Please try again. You may unsubscribe at any time. By signing up, you agree to our terms of use and privacy policy . This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google privacy policy and terms of service apply. Want more of the latest from us? Sign up for more at our newsletter page .
