I would like to defend capensis, in geography, since that is for our floral kingdom. Altho there is at least one lost capensis in the USA.
Which one was that? I think there are a couple, though I assume you’re talking about jewelweed (Impatiens capensis)? But if that’s the case it’s likely that the species was named for a cape in North America like Cape Cod and was subsequently found to occur elsewhere. This is why “name-and-place” taxonomy sometimes doesn’t work out. A good example of this is the white-tailed deer, Odocoileus virginianus. The species was named for the holotype coming from the English Virginia colony and what is now the state of Virginia, however the species is also naturally found in every state of the United States except Alaska and Hawaii, most Canadian provinces except Nunavut and Newfoundland, every Central American country, and then every South American country except the four in the Southern Cone (Paraguay, Uruguay, Argentina, and Chile). As a result “virginianus” becomes a bit misleading.
For extra weird points, the genus name Odocoileus (“hollow tooth”) comes from a fossil deciduous tooth that came from a Pleistocene cave in Pennsylvania. The describer, Rafinesque, misidentified the deciduous tooth as a permanent tooth. The tooth was hollow due to the roots being partially resorbed (at least this is what I heard), so he didn’t realize it belonged to a juvenile white-tailed deer and named it as a new taxon. Odocoileus ended up being the oldest valid genus name available for the small North American deer when it got split off from Cervus. So Odocoileus is technically a Lazarus taxon!
In terms of iNaturalist, I’ve noticed an issue where a lot of plant observations often go unidentified because many zoologists or zoology-focused amateurs can’t tell plants apart, or aren’t even tagged as plants in the first place! Seriously, check out the “Unknown” category, it’s mostly untagged plant observations with some fungi. The issue being that plant taxonomy probably isn’t as well known, and the primary ways in which most individuals are taught to percieve the botanical world (“flower”, “tree”, “shrub”, “ground cover”, “weed”, etc.) don’t reflect taxonomic reality (there are “trees” in Cycadophyta, Pteridophyta, “Gymnospermae”, and Angiospermae, with additional extinct examples in Lycopodiophyta, to name one example). I’d even admit that I end up tagging a lot of my plant observations as “Angiospermae” unless they’re a really distinctive species, because even though I have taken taxonomy courses that went over the major divisions of plants, the course didn’t go into detail as to how to tell angiosperms apart (we went over dicots versus monocots, and that was it due to time constraints).
It’s unfortunate that botanists and zoologists don’t communicate. I wonder how many obs are trapped at life 'cos its some plant, but not a fish etc.
To be honest, zoologists usually don’t even communicate with other zoologists! There was an issue several years ago where a group of entomologists found the dinosaur Syntarsus was proccupied by a beetle. They coined a new name Megapnosaurus for the dinosaur, which means “big, dead lizard”. This name was problematic for many reasons…
- ICZN rules state that if someone discovers a name is preoccupied, standard practice is to contact the original author and give them first dibs at renaming the taxon. The entomologists barely bothered to find out if the original author was alive, only asking one person who barely knew the author’s location, which was all the more noteworthy given he was currently fleeing from Mugabe-era Zimbabwe at the time and thus was between addresses for obvious reasons. However, the original describer was a well-known member of several paleontological societies, and all of them had his up-to-date contact information and could easily have provided it to the entomologists upon request. I.e., the authors didn’t make a good-faith attempt to contact the original author.
- The name violates the rule I mentioned in my earlier post about names not supposed to be derogatory. Not only did the paleontology community take it as an insult, but the entomologists who named it appeared to intend for it to be taken as an insult, given they said their motivation for the name was to make paleontologists to, in their own words, “get a sense of perspective”, as well as being derogatory to the work of the original describer. When paleontologists pointed out that this action was rather rude and unprofessional, the response from the entomologists was basically “what are you going to do about it”.
However, if there had been just a little bit better communication between the two groups, this whole issue could have been moot (and each accused the other of “you don’t understand what the proper protocol is for our area of biology”).
And to be honest, this issue isn’t even rare in biology. The entomologists I’ve met have either tended to be extremely nice or have a massive inferiority-superiority complex where they consider all other fields of biology beneath them, with no middle ground. When talking to these colleagues to try to figure out why they feel this way, the perceived impression was that their beliefs stemmed from a sense of resentment that insect taxonomy is not as popular as vertebrate biology, paleontology, or even ecology or freshwater and marine biology among the public (given that they were very unsubtle about this point), despite they themselves personally considering entomology to be more important. I remember taking an entomology course where the lecturer consistently had nothing positive to say about those who studied any other group of organisms and their field, and who used his position as a platform to bad-mouth the fields of study of every non-entomologist student in his class.
And paleontology has their own issues with elitism and self-importance, to the point that other disciplines in biology point and laugh at their practices and what they call a lack of rigor and a tendency towards spectacular claims with little scientific support, especially the dinosaur and hominin ones. Paleontology also has a persistent issue where research in certain groups is systematically ignored because of long-standing prejudices that the group isn’t important evolutionarily because it represents a “primitive” or “archaic” “dead-end” or happens to be a group that doesn’t have a strong representation in the global north. This is especially bad in mammals, where I’ve heard from colleagues who work on extinct mammal groups like hyaenodonts or notoungulates (as opposed to, say, horses, carnivorans, or elephants) that almost no one shows up to their talks at major meetings or reads their literature. I’ve seen mammalian paleontologists fail to use the most up-to-date taxonomy and systematics for these “primitive” groups (and by “fail”, I mean the taxonomy was outdated 30 years ago), despite these researchers being mammal specialists themselves!
The point I’m trying to make with all this shop talk is to demonstrate just how little communication happens between different groups of taxonomists, and that a lot of this lack of communication isn’t just due to science becoming ever more insular and compartmentalized as it becomes less and less possible for one person to know everything, but is also due to toxic cultural attitudes that lead biologists to not consider taxa outside their group of study simply because they consider them uninteresting. This isn’t just entomologists and paleontologists, but I’m just highlighting these two given they’re cases I’ve experienced enough with both to use them as case studies. Some of it may be personality as well, given that I’ve noticed a lot of scientists tend to have issues with tunnel-vision, be terrible at understanding other people’s perspectives or why they think the way they do (or convince another to adopt their thought process), and tend to be very uncompromising and confrontational in their stances (the flip side of that is that it is probably because they have these kinds of personalities that these individuals excel in research in the first place). However, the downside of this is that the types of people who tend to become scientists are unlikely to be inspired by other fields of study or regularly communicate with researchers who work on topics outside their immediate bubble. It’s not impossible for researchers to do so, and there are examples of cross-disciplinary collaboration and communication, but the fact that there is currently a crisis over science becoming over-insularized and thus not-exposed to novel ideas highlights how the lack of communication is an issue.