On theoretical projects and the role of theory and empiricism in my work

 

Background

 

I have been often asked where I fit in standard categories like theoreticians vs. empiricists or plant vs. animal ecologists. For such questions, there is no simple answer. Since my first mountain tour, I have been driven by an interest in the arctic-alpine terrestrial nature. The exact direction of this interest has dependent on discoveries of open questions and unexplained patterns.

 

    

 

The first thing I was amazed about was to find patches of spectacular vegetation – with plants much taller and more showy than typical for the middle alpine tundra –  even in glacier-covered high alpine landscapes. How these plants managed to thrive so well in such harsh environments was difficult to understand.

 

 

To be equipped to tackle such problems of adaptation ecology, I planned to combine plant ecology with plant physiology and started my studies with such combination. At that stage, animals seemed uninteresting. Their contribution to community biomass and energy flow was negligible, and a summer visitor like me could seldom see any signs of herbivory.

 

During the lemming outbreak of 1970, the animal component of the system became suddenly visible, giving some second thoughts….

 

 

   

…..but it was only in the next year, when my perspective really changed. Winter grazing by lemmings and voles had influenced the landscape in a way, which was totally beyond my imagination. Not much was left of the moss cover and even the least edible dwarf shrubs (like Cassiope tetragona, shown in the plant picture above – so loaded with terpenes that it makes perfect fuel even in pouring rain), were clipped and destroyed over enormous areas.  After having read Tihomirov’s (1959) classical booklet on plant animal interactions on the tundra, I understood that what I had seen was just business as usual in the arctic. I realized that I had missed something really central about the tundra – and about the potential of herbivorous animals to influence the terrestrial vegetation in general. 

 

To tackle the issue, I first asked myself why corresponding events were so uncommon elsewhere. To my judgment, the most plausible answer was provided by the Green World Hypothesis (GWH) of Hairston, Smith and Slobodkin, stating that the collective density of herbivores is regulated by the collective action of predators. The critics of GWH seemed to be stuck with peripheral semantics (Ehrlich and Birch) or were unaware of the enormous impact of domestic grazers on Old World vegetation, demonstrating the vulnerability of plants to herbivores (Murdoch). However, if GWH was the rule, what then accounted for the “arctic exception” that I had just witnessed? My first idea was that the low diversity of arctic ecosystems destabilizes the grazing web, but Bob May’s papers soon made me realize the limitations of this approach.

 

Exploitation Ecosystems Hypothesis (EEH)

 

In 1975, I got exposed to Steve Fretwell’s then still unpublished hypothesis concerning the role of energy in food web dynamics. While some parts (e.g. the idea of marshes as “four link ecosystems”) seemed dubious, the general idea that primary productivity and trophic dynamics have something to do with each other appeared sensible, at least for endotherms, which spend lots of energy to maintain their body temperatures and are thus vulnerable to starvation if the density of their resources is too low. I thus took Mike Rosenzweig’s three dimensional exploitation model, with fixed consumer isoclines, as my point of departure, and deduced the position of the plant isocline by assuming that plant biomass growth is logistic, herbivores have type two functional response and, most importantly, the potential productivity of the area determines the maximum rate of biomass growth in plants and the maximum sustainable density of plant biomass. For terrestrial systems, I regarded potential primary productivity as synonymous with AET (Actual Evapo-Transpiration). (The size of the nutrient pool is often important in local scale, but in the large scale productivity gradients, AET rules.) The qualitatively different outcomes of this exercise are summarized in the figure below (green, P = plants, blue, H = herbivores, red, C = carnivores/predators); notice that subfigure 1 actually consists of two subfigures; representing a very unproductive system (1a, the pale green plant isocline, which does not meet the herbivore isocline) and a slightly more productive system (1b, the bright green plant isocline that forms a locally stable herbivore-plant equilibrium).

 

 

                       1                              2                                        3

         

 

With these premises, I found that there is a wide range of AET-values (subfigures 1b and 2), where plant and herbivore isoclines meet but the equilibrium point lies below the predator isocline, implying that the intensive interaction is between herbivores and plants. If the equilibrium is locally unstable (as in subfigure 2), generating violent plant-herbivore cycles, herbivore peaks are indeed predicted to reach levels well above the predator isocline, making the system periodically attractive for predators, but at that point, the herbivores are already consuming the capital and are doomed to crash, due to inevitable forage depletion. Only in productive areas (subfigure 3), all three isoclines meet, creating systems with a stable predator-herbivore equilibrium or with cyclic or chaotic dynamics, primarily driven by the predator-herbivore interaction. Really unproductive areas, in turn (represented by subfigure 1a) are predicted to be free from herbivorous mammals and to have plant biomass at the maximum level sustainable by habitat conditions. In the spatial scale relevant for herbivores, plant biomass should be low (that’s why they cannot make it in these habitats), but if the habitat is heterogeneous in a small scale, it could indeed harbor patches with fairly high plant biomass – as I had seen on the ridges above the glaciers. In other words, the results of the analysis made empirical sense.

 

The model – known as Exploitation Ecosystems Hypothesis or EEH (Oksanen et al. (1981) - has now been debated for a quarter of century. It does not suit for small ectotherms – this was explicitly pointed out in the paper –  as they do not meet either of the two premises (dependence of predators on herbivorous prey, large daily energy needs). Moreover, as recurrently pointed out by our critics, treating entire guilds as if they were single populations is a strong, simplifying assumption.  For me, however, to simplify is the soul of theoretical analyses. Formal models are attempts to identify the dominating processes in nature and, thus, to capture the essence of the enormously complex biotic community in a simple and tractable presentation. The validity of a model is found by testing how well it manages to predict unknown patterns and outcomes of experiments in the systems it attempts to represent, not by arguing about details of assumptions.  Indeed, validity is unlikely if the underlying assumptions are taken from thin air. In the case of EEH, they are not. For instance, my assumption that plants act as a homogenous mass derives from the observation that in the Lapland tundra, I saw that rodents treated the vegetation like that (see above). Even as a theoretical contribution, however, the 1981 EEH paper had a major shortcoming: only the plant isocline was deduced using explicit math. The consumer isoclines were modified from Rosenzweig’s 1973 model by using primarily verbal reasoning. That is not how modeling is supposed to proceed.  This was fixed first two decades later by Oksanen and Oksanen (2000). Fortunately, my methodological sloppiness in the late 1970’s had not caused any errors relevant for conclusions, although we detected a minor inconsistency between the shape of the herbivore isocline an our assumptions of type II functional response and no direct density dependence among consumers. 

 

Other theoretical projects and future perspectives

 

Except for some early papers, whose primary scope was to show that I could tackle issues that were regarded as “hot” in those days (e.g. the Oksanen et al. 1979 paper on interference competition in bird communities and the Oksanen 1981 note on reproductive strategies), my other theoretical contributions have been related to trophic interactions along terrestrial productivity gradients,  dealing with the kinetics of consumer-resource interactions (Oksanen et al. 1992, Diehl et al. 1993) complementing the EEH-framework with analyses on the impact of seasonality (Oksanen 1990a,  Oikos 57:14-24), plant strategies (Oksanen 1990b, pp. 445-473 in: D. Tilman and  J. Grace, eds. Perspectives on plant competition), impacts of spatial structure (T. Oksanen et al. Evol. Ecology 6:383-398, T. Oksanen et al. 1995), evolutionary aspects of trophic dynamics (Oksanen 1988, Oksanen. 1992, Evol. Ecology 6:15-33) and impacts of food and predation risk on the reproductive strategies of small herbivores (Oksanen and Lundberg 1995, Evol. Ecology 9:45-56). One question frequently asked by colleagues is why I have not revised my approach more fundamentally. The reason is simple. My team has during the past twenty years conducted a large set of experiments in the mountain and tundra landscapes of northernmost Fennoscandia, and outcome of these experiments has corroborated the predictions of EEH (follow the links to Joatkanjávri and Iešjávri). Old fashioned or not, but I have learned that before fixing anything, you should check whether the thing is broken.

 

My recent theoretical contributions focus on population cycles. In our empirical work, we accumulated a long-term record of rodent numbers at the timberline and in high country where the lemming outbreaks build up. The difference in fluctuation patterns was striking. In collaboration with Peter Turchin we checked how time trajectories for predators and prey in limit cycle dynamics were supposed to look – and came to the conclusion that the time trajectories of lemmings in the high country bore the “predator’s sign”, (Turchin et al. 2000, Ekerholm et al. 2001), indicating that at the willow scrubland limit, the predation-driven boreal cycles give way to entirely different kinds of cycles generated by herbivore-plant interactions (as indeed predicted by EEH).  Another interesting issue is the relationship between the boreal cycles and the low amplitude cycles, found in some temperate areas. The initiative to these studies was taken by Tarja Oksanen, who had been bothered about the assumption that the functional response of generalist predators would be automatically stabilizing. This assumption did not emerge from the data cited to support it, nor was it consistent with the theory of optimal foraging. We thus started to reanalyze the issue (T. Oksanen et al. 2001) and came to the conclusion that even generalist predators could drive population cycles, albeit with lower amplitudes and much higher population minima than found in specialist driven cycles. This issue was recently re-actualized in the context of the debate concerning vole dynamics in north English woodland (Korpimäki et al. 2003, Korpimäki et al 2005).    

 

Some of my recent contributions have dealt with methodological issues. This “interest“ has been dictated by concrete problems. When I worked on geographical patterns in the intensity of plant-plant competition, I realized that the most widespread index used in this context had serious flaws that had to be fixed. Otherwise, the patterns in index values would not faithfully reproduce patterns in nature (see Oksanen et al. 2006). Another, more fundamental methodological challenge is how to deal with situations, where replication is not possible (at least in the sense that the predictions of interest refer to contrasts created by large scale gradients of primary productivity, which tend to be directional). While Hurlbert made an important contribution against the sloppy use of statistics in ecology during the 1970’s and early 1980’s, the total ban imposed by him on the use of statistics (even in the form of presenting standard errors in graphs) in the context of non-replicated experiments was, to my judgment, counterproductive. Sometimes, the salient predictions concern processes (or contrasts) in large spatial scales, making complete replication infeasible. In those cases, the message of the experiment hinges on the a priori likelihood of obtaining quantitatively corresponding contrasts (or divergences of time trajectories, coinciding with the application of the treatment) for reasons independent of the conjecture to be tested. This should be admitted and alternative explanations should be discussed, but if this is done, it is difficult to understand what is wrong with presenting explicit or implicit statistics, demonstrating the reliability of estimates of population means. In unreplicated experiments, the magnitude of the contrasts is crucial. Thus reliable documentation of population means is then extremely important. (The a priori probability of one statistical population having larger mean than the other is 0.5; the a priori probability for a tenfold difference is much smaller; for further viewpoints, see Oksanen 2001, Oksanen 2004).

 

My current theoretical work focuses on the connections between trophic dynamics and biodiversity. The issue has turned out to be much more multi-faceted than I initially thought, with all kinds of non-obvious feed back relationships between evolution and trophic dynamics. The theoretical work is connected to the empirical research on the dynamics of rare arctic-alpine plants, carried out in the new Raisduottar site.

 

The above summary hopefully puts my theoretical and empirical projects in the right context. I have indeed more wrinkles on my face than the little boy shown in the first picture, who became enthusiastic about the life in the open expanses at high latitudes and altitudes. Inside, however, I am still the same person. What counts for me is to untangle mysteries of arctic and alpine systems. In this process, I use whatever approach is needed. There is no doubt that my talent lies primarily in theory. Math was always my favorite subject, while practical work has been hard to learn. But that is irrelevant. A carpenter cannot use just his favorite tools when building a cabin. He must focus on the cabin, not on the tools, and use each tool when needed. Moreover, while math is my favorite technique, and I do not share Goethe’s view   Grau ist alles Theorie, nur grün des Lebens goldner Baum” , nature still beats theory 10-1 as my source of inspiration. Those, who have ever seen the arctic spring and summer, with marvelous flowers and bluethroats singing in midnight sun, know why. Those who have not should take their chance.