Charles Darwin als duivenmelker
Darwin bestudeerde het fenomeen domesticatie als een - door de mens gestuurde - analogie met evolutie om duidelijk te maken, dat soorten kunnen veranderen onder invloed van - in dit geval - door de mens uitgevoerde selectie. Duidelijk zal zijn dat kunstmatige selectie totaal iets anders is dan darwiniaanse evolutie, waarin natuurlijke selectie resultaatbepalend is.
Een belangrijke inspiratiebron voor Darwin waren sierduiven, die hij op evenementen in Londen zag. Hij realiseerde zich dat door kunstmatige selectie op bepaalde kenmerken bij duiven, die nieuwe uiterlijke kenmerken en andere eigenschappen in de volgende generaties werden verankerd.
Vanaf dat moment genoten huisdieren in het algemeen en sierduiven vooral, zijn speciale aandacht. Zijn studie van kunstmatige selectie, zoals die plaats vindt in de huisdierfokkerij (domesticatie), hebben een belangrijke bijdrage geleverd aan de gedachten vorming van Darwin en uiteindelijk aan zijn 'On the Origin of Species'. Een belangrijk deel van Darwins publicaties is dan ook gewijd aan domesticatie en huisdieren - sierduiven in het bijzonder.
Tekenend is ook hier, dat - daar waar het soortvorming betrof - Darwin bij kwekers van sierduiven tegen de zelfde diepgewortelde gedachten aanliep als bij de ‘naturalists’ van zijn tijd. Ook bij hen, zijn collega-duivenkwekers, wilde het er niet in, dat al die totaal verschillende sierduivenrassen van een gemeenschappelijke voorouder zouden afstammen, evenmin als volgens de gangbare mening in die tijd al die verschillende wilde diersoorten gemeenschappelijke voorouders zouden hebben gehad.
Illustratief in deze is zijn uitspraak in een review van ‘The Origin’ of Species'(1859) in The American Journal of Science and Arts, March (1860):
‘I have discussed the probable origin of domestic pigeons at some, yet quite insufficient, length; because when I first kept pigeons and watched the several kinds, knowing well how true they bred, I felt fully as much difficulty in believing that they could ever have descended from a common parent as any naturalist could in coming to a similar conclusion in regard to many species of finches, or other large groups of birds, in Nature. One circumstance has struck me much; namely, that all the breeders of the various domestic animals and the cultivators of plants, with whom I have ever conversed, or whose treatises I have read, are firmly convinced that the several breeds to which each has attended are descended from so many aboriginally distinct species. Ask, as I have asked, a celebrated raiser of Hereford cattle, whether his cattle might not have descended from long-horns, and he will laugh you to scorn. I have never met a pigeon, or poultry, or duck, or rabbit fancier, who was not fully convinced that each main breed was descended from a distinct species. Van Mons, in his treatise on pears and apples, shows how utterly he disbelieves that the several sorts, for instance a Ribston-pippin or Codlin-apple, could ever have proceeded from the seeds of the same tree. Innumerable other examples could be given. The explanation, I think, is simple: from long-continued study they arc strongly impressed with the differences between the several races; and though they well know that each race varies slightly, for they win their prizes by selecting such slight differences, yet they ignore all general arguments, and refuse to sum up in their minds slight differences accumulated during many successive generations. May not those naturalists who, knowing far less of the laws of inheritance than does the breeder, and knowing no more than he does of the intermediate links in the long lines of descent, yet admit that many of our domestic races have descended from the same parents—may they not learn a lesson of caution, when they deride the idea of species in a state of nature being lineal descendants of other species?’ ‘I have discussed the probable origin of domestic pigeons at some, yet quite insufficient, length; because when I first kept pigeons and watched the several kinds, knowing well how true they bred, I felt fully as much difficulty in believing that they could ever have descended from a common parent as any naturalist could in coming to a similar conclusion in regard to many species of finches, or other large groups of birds, in Nature. One circumstance has struck me much; namely, that all the breeders of the various domestic animals and the cultivators of plants, with whom I have ever conversed, or whose treatises I have read, are firmly convinced that the several breeds to which each has attended are descended from so many aboriginally distinct species. Ask, as I have asked, a celebrated raiser of Hereford cattle, whether his cattle might not have descended from long-horns, and he will laugh you to scorn. I have never met a pigeon, or poultry, or duck, or rabbit fancier, who was not fully convinced that each main breed was descended from a distinct species. Van Mons, in his treatise on pears and apples, shows how utterly he disbelieves that the several sorts, for instance a Ribston-pippin or Codlin-apple, could ever have proceeded from the seeds of the same tree. Innumerable other examples could be given. The explanation, I think, is simple: from long-continued study they arc strongly impressed with the differences between the several races; and though they well know that each race varies slightly, for they win their prizes by selecting such slight differences, yet they ignore all general arguments, and refuse to sum up in their minds slight differences accumulated during many successive generations. May not those naturalists who, knowing far less of the laws of inheritance than does the breeder, and knowing no more than he does of the intermediate links in the long lines of descent, yet admit that many of our domestic races have descended from the same parents—may they not learn a lesson of caution, when they deride the idea of species in a state of nature being lineal descendants of other species?’ ‘I have discussed the probable origin of domestic pigeons at some, yet quite insufficient, length; because when I first kept pigeons and watched the several kinds, knowing well how true they bred, I felt fully as much difficulty in believing that they could ever have descended from a common parent as any naturalist could in coming to a similar conclusion in regard to many species of finches, or other large groups of birds, in Nature. One circumstance has struck me much; namely, that all the breeders of the various domestic animals and the cultivators of plants, with whom I have ever conversed, or whose treatises I have read, are firmly convinced that the several breeds to which each has attended are descended from so many aboriginally distinct species. Ask, as I have asked, a celebrated raiser of Hereford cattle, whether his cattle might not have descended from long-horns, and he will laugh you to scorn. I have never met a pigeon, or poultry, or duck, or rabbit fancier, who was not fully convinced that each main breed was descended from a distinct species. Van Mons, in his treatise on pears and apples, shows how utterly he disbelieves that the several sorts, for instance a Ribston-pippin or Codlin-apple, could ever have proceeded from the seeds of the same tree. Innumerable other examples could be given. The explanation, I think, is simple: from long-continued study they arc strongly impressed with the differences between the several races; and though they well know that each race varies slightly, for they win their prizes by selecting such slight differences, yet they ignore all general arguments, and refuse to sum up in their minds slight differences accumulated during many successive generations. May not those naturalists who, knowing far less of the laws of inheritance than does the breeder, and knowing no more than he does of the intermediate links in the long lines of descent, yet admit that many of our domestic races have descended from the same parents—may they not learn a lesson of caution, when they deride the idea of species in a state of nature being lineal descendants of other species?’
Een belangrijke inspiratiebron voor Darwin waren sierduiven, die hij op evenementen in Londen zag. Hij realiseerde zich dat door kunstmatige selectie op bepaalde kenmerken bij duiven, die nieuwe uiterlijke kenmerken en andere eigenschappen in de volgende generaties werden verankerd.
Vanaf dat moment genoten huisdieren in het algemeen en sierduiven vooral, zijn speciale aandacht. Zijn studie van kunstmatige selectie, zoals die plaats vindt in de huisdierfokkerij (domesticatie), hebben een belangrijke bijdrage geleverd aan de gedachten vorming van Darwin en uiteindelijk aan zijn 'On the Origin of Species'. Een belangrijk deel van Darwins publicaties is dan ook gewijd aan domesticatie en huisdieren - sierduiven in het bijzonder.
Tekenend is ook hier, dat - daar waar het soortvorming betrof - Darwin bij kwekers van sierduiven tegen de zelfde diepgewortelde gedachten aanliep als bij de ‘naturalists’ van zijn tijd. Ook bij hen, zijn collega-duivenkwekers, wilde het er niet in, dat al die totaal verschillende sierduivenrassen van een gemeenschappelijke voorouder zouden afstammen, evenmin als volgens de gangbare mening in die tijd al die verschillende wilde diersoorten gemeenschappelijke voorouders zouden hebben gehad.
Illustratief in deze is zijn uitspraak in een review van ‘The Origin’ of Species'(1859) in The American Journal of Science and Arts, March (1860):
‘I have discussed the probable origin of domestic pigeons at some, yet quite insufficient, length; because when I first kept pigeons and watched the several kinds, knowing well how true they bred, I felt fully as much difficulty in believing that they could ever have descended from a common parent as any naturalist could in coming to a similar conclusion in regard to many species of finches, or other large groups of birds, in Nature. One circumstance has struck me much; namely, that all the breeders of the various domestic animals and the cultivators of plants, with whom I have ever conversed, or whose treatises I have read, are firmly convinced that the several breeds to which each has attended are descended from so many aboriginally distinct species. Ask, as I have asked, a celebrated raiser of Hereford cattle, whether his cattle might not have descended from long-horns, and he will laugh you to scorn. I have never met a pigeon, or poultry, or duck, or rabbit fancier, who was not fully convinced that each main breed was descended from a distinct species. Van Mons, in his treatise on pears and apples, shows how utterly he disbelieves that the several sorts, for instance a Ribston-pippin or Codlin-apple, could ever have proceeded from the seeds of the same tree. Innumerable other examples could be given. The explanation, I think, is simple: from long-continued study they arc strongly impressed with the differences between the several races; and though they well know that each race varies slightly, for they win their prizes by selecting such slight differences, yet they ignore all general arguments, and refuse to sum up in their minds slight differences accumulated during many successive generations. May not those naturalists who, knowing far less of the laws of inheritance than does the breeder, and knowing no more than he does of the intermediate links in the long lines of descent, yet admit that many of our domestic races have descended from the same parents—may they not learn a lesson of caution, when they deride the idea of species in a state of nature being lineal descendants of other species?’ ‘I have discussed the probable origin of domestic pigeons at some, yet quite insufficient, length; because when I first kept pigeons and watched the several kinds, knowing well how true they bred, I felt fully as much difficulty in believing that they could ever have descended from a common parent as any naturalist could in coming to a similar conclusion in regard to many species of finches, or other large groups of birds, in Nature. One circumstance has struck me much; namely, that all the breeders of the various domestic animals and the cultivators of plants, with whom I have ever conversed, or whose treatises I have read, are firmly convinced that the several breeds to which each has attended are descended from so many aboriginally distinct species. Ask, as I have asked, a celebrated raiser of Hereford cattle, whether his cattle might not have descended from long-horns, and he will laugh you to scorn. I have never met a pigeon, or poultry, or duck, or rabbit fancier, who was not fully convinced that each main breed was descended from a distinct species. Van Mons, in his treatise on pears and apples, shows how utterly he disbelieves that the several sorts, for instance a Ribston-pippin or Codlin-apple, could ever have proceeded from the seeds of the same tree. Innumerable other examples could be given. The explanation, I think, is simple: from long-continued study they arc strongly impressed with the differences between the several races; and though they well know that each race varies slightly, for they win their prizes by selecting such slight differences, yet they ignore all general arguments, and refuse to sum up in their minds slight differences accumulated during many successive generations. May not those naturalists who, knowing far less of the laws of inheritance than does the breeder, and knowing no more than he does of the intermediate links in the long lines of descent, yet admit that many of our domestic races have descended from the same parents—may they not learn a lesson of caution, when they deride the idea of species in a state of nature being lineal descendants of other species?’ ‘I have discussed the probable origin of domestic pigeons at some, yet quite insufficient, length; because when I first kept pigeons and watched the several kinds, knowing well how true they bred, I felt fully as much difficulty in believing that they could ever have descended from a common parent as any naturalist could in coming to a similar conclusion in regard to many species of finches, or other large groups of birds, in Nature. One circumstance has struck me much; namely, that all the breeders of the various domestic animals and the cultivators of plants, with whom I have ever conversed, or whose treatises I have read, are firmly convinced that the several breeds to which each has attended are descended from so many aboriginally distinct species. Ask, as I have asked, a celebrated raiser of Hereford cattle, whether his cattle might not have descended from long-horns, and he will laugh you to scorn. I have never met a pigeon, or poultry, or duck, or rabbit fancier, who was not fully convinced that each main breed was descended from a distinct species. Van Mons, in his treatise on pears and apples, shows how utterly he disbelieves that the several sorts, for instance a Ribston-pippin or Codlin-apple, could ever have proceeded from the seeds of the same tree. Innumerable other examples could be given. The explanation, I think, is simple: from long-continued study they arc strongly impressed with the differences between the several races; and though they well know that each race varies slightly, for they win their prizes by selecting such slight differences, yet they ignore all general arguments, and refuse to sum up in their minds slight differences accumulated during many successive generations. May not those naturalists who, knowing far less of the laws of inheritance than does the breeder, and knowing no more than he does of the intermediate links in the long lines of descent, yet admit that many of our domestic races have descended from the same parents—may they not learn a lesson of caution, when they deride the idea of species in a state of nature being lineal descendants of other species?’
posted by Maarten Frankenhuis at 4:16 a.m.
