4 resultados para Ecological assessment (Biology)
em Duke University
Resumo:
Complex diseases will have multiple functional sites, and it will be invaluable to understand the cross-locus interaction in terms of linkage disequilibrium (LD) between those sites (epistasis) in addition to the haplotype-LD effects. We investigated the statistical properties of a class of matrix-based statistics to assess this epistasis. These statistical methods include two LD contrast tests (Zaykin et al., 2006) and partial least squares regression (Wang et al., 2008). To estimate Type 1 error rates and power, we simulated multiple two-variant disease models using the SIMLA software package. SIMLA allows for the joint action of up to two disease genes in the simulated data with all possible multiplicative interaction effects between them. Our goal was to detect an interaction between multiple disease-causing variants by means of their linkage disequilibrium (LD) patterns with other markers. We measured the effects of marginal disease effect size, haplotype LD, disease prevalence and minor allele frequency have on cross-locus interaction (epistasis). In the setting of strong allele effects and strong interaction, the correlation between the two disease genes was weak (r=0.2). In a complex system with multiple correlations (both marginal and interaction), it was difficult to determine the source of a significant result. Despite these complications, the partial least squares and modified LD contrast methods maintained adequate power to detect the epistatic effects; however, for many of the analyses we often could not separate interaction from a strong marginal effect. While we did not exhaust the entire parameter space of possible models, we do provide guidance on the effects that population parameters have on cross-locus interaction.
Resumo:
Interactions between natural selection and environmental change are well recognized and sit at the core of ecology and evolutionary biology. Reciprocal interactions between ecology and evolution, eco-evolutionary feedbacks, are less well studied, even though they may be critical for understanding the evolution of biological diversity, the structure of communities and the function of ecosystems. Eco-evolutionary feedbacks require that populations alter their environment (niche construction) and that those changes in the environment feed back to influence the subsequent evolution of the population. There is strong evidence that organisms influence their environment through predation, nutrient excretion and habitat modification, and that populations evolve in response to changes in their environment at time-scales congruent with ecological change (contemporary evolution). Here, we outline how the niche construction and contemporary evolution interact to alter the direction of evolution and the structure and function of communities and ecosystems. We then present five empirical systems that highlight important characteristics of eco-evolutionary feedbacks: rotifer-algae chemostats; alewife-zooplankton interactions in lakes; guppy life-history evolution and nutrient cycling in streams; avian seed predators and plants; and tree leaf chemistry and soil processes. The alewife-zooplankton system provides the most complete evidence for eco-evolutionary feedbacks, but other systems highlight the potential for eco-evolutionary feedbacks in a wide variety of natural systems.
Resumo:
Human use of the oceans is increasingly in conflict with conservation of endangered species. Methods for managing the spatial and temporal placement of industries such as military, fishing, transportation and offshore energy, have historically been post hoc; i.e. the time and place of human activity is often already determined before assessment of environmental impacts. In this dissertation, I build robust species distribution models in two case study areas, US Atlantic (Best et al. 2012) and British Columbia (Best et al. 2015), predicting presence and abundance respectively, from scientific surveys. These models are then applied to novel decision frameworks for preemptively suggesting optimal placement of human activities in space and time to minimize ecological impacts: siting for offshore wind energy development, and routing ships to minimize risk of striking whales. Both decision frameworks relate the tradeoff between conservation risk and industry profit with synchronized variable and map views as online spatial decision support systems.
For siting offshore wind energy development (OWED) in the U.S. Atlantic (chapter 4), bird density maps are combined across species with weights of OWED sensitivity to collision and displacement and 10 km2 sites are compared against OWED profitability based on average annual wind speed at 90m hub heights and distance to transmission grid. A spatial decision support system enables toggling between the map and tradeoff plot views by site. A selected site can be inspected for sensitivity to a cetaceans throughout the year, so as to capture months of the year which minimize episodic impacts of pre-operational activities such as seismic airgun surveying and pile driving.
Routing ships to avoid whale strikes (chapter 5) can be similarly viewed as a tradeoff, but is a different problem spatially. A cumulative cost surface is generated from density surface maps and conservation status of cetaceans, before applying as a resistance surface to calculate least-cost routes between start and end locations, i.e. ports and entrance locations to study areas. Varying a multiplier to the cost surface enables calculation of multiple routes with different costs to conservation of cetaceans versus cost to transportation industry, measured as distance. Similar to the siting chapter, a spatial decisions support system enables toggling between the map and tradeoff plot view of proposed routes. The user can also input arbitrary start and end locations to calculate the tradeoff on the fly.
Essential to the input of these decision frameworks are distributions of the species. The two preceding chapters comprise species distribution models from two case study areas, U.S. Atlantic (chapter 2) and British Columbia (chapter 3), predicting presence and density, respectively. Although density is preferred to estimate potential biological removal, per Marine Mammal Protection Act requirements in the U.S., all the necessary parameters, especially distance and angle of observation, are less readily available across publicly mined datasets.
In the case of predicting cetacean presence in the U.S. Atlantic (chapter 2), I extracted datasets from the online OBIS-SEAMAP geo-database, and integrated scientific surveys conducted by ship (n=36) and aircraft (n=16), weighting a Generalized Additive Model by minutes surveyed within space-time grid cells to harmonize effort between the two survey platforms. For each of 16 cetacean species guilds, I predicted the probability of occurrence from static environmental variables (water depth, distance to shore, distance to continental shelf break) and time-varying conditions (monthly sea-surface temperature). To generate maps of presence vs. absence, Receiver Operator Characteristic (ROC) curves were used to define the optimal threshold that minimizes false positive and false negative error rates. I integrated model outputs, including tables (species in guilds, input surveys) and plots (fit of environmental variables, ROC curve), into an online spatial decision support system, allowing for easy navigation of models by taxon, region, season, and data provider.
For predicting cetacean density within the inner waters of British Columbia (chapter 3), I calculated density from systematic, line-transect marine mammal surveys over multiple years and seasons (summer 2004, 2005, 2008, and spring/autumn 2007) conducted by Raincoast Conservation Foundation. Abundance estimates were calculated using two different methods: Conventional Distance Sampling (CDS) and Density Surface Modelling (DSM). CDS generates a single density estimate for each stratum, whereas DSM explicitly models spatial variation and offers potential for greater precision by incorporating environmental predictors. Although DSM yields a more relevant product for the purposes of marine spatial planning, CDS has proven to be useful in cases where there are fewer observations available for seasonal and inter-annual comparison, particularly for the scarcely observed elephant seal. Abundance estimates are provided on a stratum-specific basis. Steller sea lions and harbour seals are further differentiated by ‘hauled out’ and ‘in water’. This analysis updates previous estimates (Williams & Thomas 2007) by including additional years of effort, providing greater spatial precision with the DSM method over CDS, novel reporting for spring and autumn seasons (rather than summer alone), and providing new abundance estimates for Steller sea lion and northern elephant seal. In addition to providing a baseline of marine mammal abundance and distribution, against which future changes can be compared, this information offers the opportunity to assess the risks posed to marine mammals by existing and emerging threats, such as fisheries bycatch, ship strikes, and increased oil spill and ocean noise issues associated with increases of container ship and oil tanker traffic in British Columbia’s continental shelf waters.
Starting with marine animal observations at specific coordinates and times, I combine these data with environmental data, often satellite derived, to produce seascape predictions generalizable in space and time. These habitat-based models enable prediction of encounter rates and, in the case of density surface models, abundance that can then be applied to management scenarios. Specific human activities, OWED and shipping, are then compared within a tradeoff decision support framework, enabling interchangeable map and tradeoff plot views. These products make complex processes transparent for gaming conservation, industry and stakeholders towards optimal marine spatial management, fundamental to the tenets of marine spatial planning, ecosystem-based management and dynamic ocean management.
Resumo:
Habitat loss, fragmentation, and degradation threaten the World’s ecosystems and species. These, and other threats, will likely be exacerbated by climate change. Due to a limited budget for conservation, we are forced to prioritize a few areas over others. These places are selected based on their uniqueness and vulnerability. One of the most famous examples is the biodiversity hotspots: areas where large quantities of endemic species meet alarming rates of habitat loss. Most of these places are in the tropics, where species have smaller ranges, diversity is higher, and ecosystems are most threatened.
Species distributions are useful to understand ecological theory and evaluate extinction risk. Small-ranged species, or those endemic to one place, are more vulnerable to extinction than widely distributed species. However, current range maps often overestimate the distribution of species, including areas that are not within the suitable elevation or habitat for a species. Consequently, assessment of extinction risk using these maps could underestimate vulnerability.
In order to be effective in our quest to conserve the World’s most important places we must: 1) Translate global and national priorities into practical local actions, 2) Find synergies between biodiversity conservation and human welfare, 3) Evaluate the different dimensions of threats, in order to design effective conservation measures and prepare for future threats, and 4) Improve the methods used to evaluate species’ extinction risk and prioritize areas for conservation. The purpose of this dissertation is to address these points in Colombia and other global biodiversity hotspots.
In Chapter 2, I identified the global, strategic conservation priorities and then downscaled to practical local actions within the selected priorities in Colombia. I used existing range maps of 171 bird species to identify priority conservation areas that would protect the greatest number of species at risk in Colombia (endemic and small-ranged species). The Western Andes had the highest concentrations of such species—100 in total—but the lowest densities of national parks. I then adjusted the priorities for this region by refining these species ranges by selecting only areas of suitable elevation and remaining habitat. The estimated ranges of these species shrank by 18–100% after accounting for habitat and suitable elevation. Setting conservation priorities on the basis of currently available range maps excluded priority areas in the Western Andes and, by extension, likely elsewhere and for other taxa. By incorporating detailed maps of remaining natural habitats, I made practical recommendations for conservation actions. One recommendation was to restore forest connections to a patch of cloud forest about to become isolated from the main Andes.
For Chapter 3, I identified areas where bird conservation met ecosystem service protection in the Central Andes of Colombia. Inspired by the November 11th (2011) landslide event near Manizales, and the current poor results of Colombia’s Article 111 of Law 99 of 1993 as a conservation measure in this country, I set out to prioritize conservation and restoration areas where landslide prevention would complement bird conservation in the Central Andes. This area is one of the most biodiverse places on Earth, but also one of the most threatened. Using the case of the Rio Blanco Reserve, near Manizales, I identified areas for conservation where endemic and small-range bird diversity was high, and where landslide risk was also high. I further prioritized restoration areas by overlapping these conservation priorities with a forest cover map. Restoring forests in bare areas of high landslide risk and important bird diversity yields benefits for both biodiversity and people. I developed a simple landslide susceptibility model using slope, forest cover, aspect, and stream proximity. Using publicly available bird range maps, refined by elevation, I mapped concentrations of endemic and small-range bird species. I identified 1.54 km2 of potential restoration areas in the Rio Blanco Reserve, and 886 km2 in the Central Andes region. By prioritizing these areas, I facilitate the application of Article 111 which requires local and regional governments to invest in land purchases for the conservation of watersheds.
Chapter 4 dealt with elevational ranges of montane birds and the impact of lowland deforestation on their ranges in the Western Andes of Colombia, an important biodiversity hotspot. Using point counts and mist-nets, I surveyed six altitudinal transects spanning 2200 to 2800m. Three transects were forested from 2200 to 2800m, and three were partially deforested with forest cover only above 2400m. I compared abundance-weighted mean elevation, minimum elevation, and elevational range width. In addition to analyzing the effect of deforestation on 134 species, I tested its impact within trophic guilds and habitat preference groups. Abundance-weighted mean and minimum elevations were not significantly different between forested and partially deforested transects. Range width was marginally different: as expected, ranges were larger in forested transects. Species in different trophic guilds and habitat preference categories showed different trends. These results suggest that deforestation may affect species’ elevational ranges, even within the forest that remains. Climate change will likely exacerbate harmful impacts of deforestation on species’ elevational distributions. Future conservation strategies need to account for this by protecting connected forest tracts across a wide range of elevations.
In Chapter 5, I refine the ranges of 726 species from six biodiversity hotspots by suitable elevation and habitat. This set of 172 bird species for the Atlantic Forest, 138 for Central America, 100 for the Western Andes of Colombia, 57 for Madagascar, 102 for Sumatra, and 157 for Southeast Asia met the criteria for range size, endemism, threat, and forest use. Of these 586 species, the Red List deems 108 to be threatened: 15 critically endangered, 29 endangered, and 64 vulnerable. When ranges are refined by elevational limits and remaining forest cover, 10 of those critically endangered species have ranges < 100km2, but then so do 2 endangered species, seven vulnerable, and eight non-threatened ones. Similarly, 4 critically endangered species, 20 endangered, and 12 vulnerable species have refined ranges < 5000km2, but so do 66 non-threatened species. A striking 89% of these species I have classified in higher threat categories have <50% of their refined ranges inside protected areas. I find that for 43% of the species I assessed, refined range sizes fall within thresholds that typically have higher threat categories than their current assignments. I recommend these species for closer inspection by those who assess risk. These assessments are not only important on a species-by-species basis, but by combining distributions of threatened species, I create maps of conservation priorities. They differ significantly from those created from unrefined ranges.