The Tribulations of Boaty McBoatface and the art of Silly Scientific Naming
Like many of people, I was sad and disappointed to hear that the new UK polar research vessel would be named the RRS Sir David Attenborough. Not that it’s a bad name. It’s a noble name, named after a noble gentleman scientist. But it’s hardly in the same league as Boaty McBoatface, now is it? Science Minister Jo Johnson said that there were “more suitable” names than Boaty McBoatface, but why was it so unsuitable? I would suggest that it was because the Attenborough is not a boat. It’s a ship. It would just be insulting to call it a boat. Perhaps Shippy McShipface would have met the minister’s approval. We’ll never know. As a veteran submariner myself (the USS James K. Polk, gold crew), I can tell you that a submarine, on the other hand, actually IS a boat. Indeed one of the Attenborough’s remote controlled submarines will carry the proud McBoatface moniker into the icy depths, which is probably more appropriate. From the ridiculous to the submersible, as they say.
With all of this drama unfolding, Trevor Chappell asked me if there were other examples of scientists naming things ironically or playfully. I think he was politely asking, “Do scientists have a sense of humour?” I can understand why he might thank that we wouldn’t, but we do. Well, sort of. We try, but you must understand that we’re nerds (I say that proudly), and we are often arrogant about it (I say that shamefully), so we tend more toward the inside joke.
Firstly, though, I should mention that scientists have actually studied humour scientifically (of course). In 2002, psychologist Richard Wiseman set out to determine the funniest joke in the world. He used the internet to collect over 41,000 jokes, which were then rated by the public, and after more than 1.5 million votes it converged on a clear winner. It worked across many different countries, both men and women, young and old. Want to hear it?
“Two hunters are out in the woods when one of them collapses. He doesn't seem to be breathing and his eyes are glazed. The other guy whips out his phone and calls the emergency services. He gasps, ‘My friend is dead! What can I do?’ The operator says ‘Calm down. I can help. First, let's make sure he's dead.’ There is a silence, then a shot is heard. Back on the phone, the guy says ‘OK, now what?’”
Alright, it’s not actually the “funniest” joke in the world. More accurately, it’s the joke that more people in the world found to be funny than any of the others submitted. Still it’s better than the “most submitted” joke in the study: “What’s brown and sticky? A stick.” The two most profound insights from this study?: (1) jokes containing about 103 words are the funniest and (2) most submitted jokes included animals, and the ones with ducks in them were found to be funniest. Profound. I wonder if this is the kind of research that Malcolm Turnbull doesn’t think should be funded at CSIRO.
But that’s the science of humour, not the humour of science. The question remains, do scientists give things silly names? In my early years as a PhD student I worked with two robotic devices, one that was a big robotic arm used for manipulating small liquid volumes and the other was a flat motorised plate that moved samples around from one place to another. They were so fascinating to watch work together that we named them “Fred and Ginger”. And a mechanical device for hydrogenating hydrocarbons was nicknamed “the African Queen” because of the “chukka-chukka-chukka” sound it made while running. But I encountered my personal favourite real life science humour while reading an article entitled “Resolution enhancement by nonlinear data processing. ‘HOGWASH’ and the maximum entropy method” in the Journal of Magnetic Resonance. The article compared two nonlinear methods for resolution enhancement of NMR data: “HOGWASH” and the maximum entropy method as applied to the same experimental free induction decay. A griping read, I swear. “HOGWASH” was clearly an acronym for something, but when I found the expanded acronym in the text it clearly did not spell HOGWASH (second-hand experiment for the elucidation of partially resolved data using an iterative procedure). Disappointed? I tried to warn you. Nerd humour is an acquired taste. But I assure you that this little joke sent nuclear magnetic resonance spectroscopists around the globe giggling uncontrollably (all six of us).
One very broad arena in which scientific jackanapes have free reign is the taxonomy of newly discovered species. The rules for naming new species are surprisingly lax, which creates a breeding ground for nerdy humour. Of course you have the mundane, where scientists name creatures after some derivation of a deity’s name or by Latinising their own surnames. Get beyond that, though, and “here there be dragons”! Dracorex hogwartsia to be precise (Translation: Dragon King of Hogwarts), more of a dinosaur from the late Crustaceous than a dragon, but what are you going to do? Or maybe the extinct lizard Eucritta melanolimnetes is more to the point (Translation: creature from the black lagoon). Puns are ever present, like the beetles Ytu brutus and Galae baen, or the pollenating fly Pieza pi (with its closely related cousins Pieza kake, Pieza rhea and Pieza deresistans). Some species are named in honour of individual people, although the honour is sometimes dubious. The symbolism is not lost with the slime mould beetles of the Agathidium genus (from the second Gulf War): Agathidium bushi, Agathidium cheneyi and Agathidium rumsfeldi. The Elvis wasp has been scientifically named Preseucoila imallshookupis. Not to be left out, Sir David Attenborough has had a variety of species named after him including the Long-Beaked Echidna (Zaglossus attenboroughi), a flower (Blakea attenoroughii), a carniverous pitcher plant (Nepenthes attenboroughii) and an entire genus of plesiosaurs (Attenborosaurus).
Which brings us back to Boaty McBoatface. Boaty doesn’t have even one species of dung beetle or cold water krill named after him. You would think that Sir David would be magnanimous enough to let Booty have just this one little ship named after him. I mean, was it really appropriate to name a carnivorous rat-eating plant after Sir David Attenborough? Seriously, was Sir David okay with that?"