bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025 huggingface dataset:
Predator–prey interactions
Authors: Bonsall Michael B. , Hassell Michael P.
Published: November 2020

Predation is a widespread population process that has evolved many times within the metazoa. It can affect the distribution, abundance, and dynamics of species in ecosystems. For instance, the distribution of western tussock moth is known to be affected by a parasitic wasp (Maron and Harrison, 1997; Hastings et al., 1998), the abundance of different competitors can be shaped by the presence or absence of predators (e.g. Paine, 1966), and natural enemies (such as many parasitoids) can shape the dynamics of a number of ecological interactions (Hassell, 1978, 2000). The broad aim of this chapter is to explore the dynamical effects of predators (including the large groupings of insect parasitoids) and show how our understanding of predator–prey interactions scales from knowledge of the behaviour and local patch dynamics to the population and regional (metapopulation) levels. We draw on a number of approaches including behavioural studies, population dynamics, and time-series analysis, and use models to describe the data and dynamics of the interaction between predators and prey. Predator–prey interactions have an inherent tendency to fluctuate and show oscillatory behaviour. If predators are initially rare, then the size of the prey population can increase. As prey population size increases, the predator populations also begins to increase, which in turn has a detrimental effect on the prey population leading to a decline in prey numbers. As prey become scarce then the predator population size declines and the cycle starts again. These intuitive dynamics can be captured by one of the simplest mathematical descriptions of a predator–prey interaction: the Lotka–Volterra model (Lotka, 1925; Volterra, 1926). Specifically, the Lotka–Volterra model for an interaction between a predator (P) and its prey (N) is a continuous-time model and has the form : where r is the prey-population growth rate in the absence of predators, α is the predator attack rate, c is the (positive) impact of prey on predators, and d is the death rate of predators in the absence of their prey resource.
The Strata Machine
Authors: Zalasiewicz Jan
Published: November 2020

History is bunk—or so Henry Ford is reputed to have said. Folk memory, though, simplifies recorded statements. What Henry Ford actually told the Chicago Tribune was ‘History is more or less bunk. It’s tradition. We don’t want tradition. We want to live in the present, and the only tradition that is worth a tinker’s damn is the history that we make today.’ So folk memory, in this case, did pretty well reflect the kernel of his views. Henry Ford also said that ‘Exercise is bunk. If you are healthy, you don’t need it; if you are sick, you shouldn’t take it.’ Henry Ford was a very powerful, very rich man of strongly expressed views. And he was quite wrong on both counts. Not having known Henry Ford, interplanetary explorers may have their own view of history. As, perhaps, an indispensable means of understanding the present and of predicting the future. As a way of deducing how the various phenomena—physical, chemical, and biological—on any planet operate. And as a means of avoiding the kind of mistake—such as resource exhaustion or intra-species war—that could terminate the ambitions of any promising and newly emerged intelligent life-form. On Earth, and everywhere else, things are as they are because they have developed that way. The history of that development must be worked out from tangible evidence: chiefly the objects and traces of past events and processes preserved on this planet itself. The surface of the Earth is no place to preserve deep history. This is in spite of—and in large part because of—the many events that have taken place on it. The surface of the future Earth, one hundred million years from now, will not have preserved evidence of contemporary human activity. One can be quite categorical about this. Whatever arrangement of oceans and continents, or whatever state of cool or warmth will exist then, the Earth’s surface will have been wiped clean of human traces. For the Earth is active. It is not just an inert mass of rock, an enormous sphere of silicates and metals to be mined by its freight of organisms, much as caterpillars chew through leaves.
The Advent of the Abbé Breuil
Authors: O'Connor Anne
Published: November 2020

In 1930, Boswell made a compelling statement of his faith in the British Palaeolithic sequence as a reliable guide to geological time. The archaeologist Harold Peake (1867–1946), honorary curator of Newbury Museum whose interests ranged from earliest prehistory to the Bronze Age, had attended the same session at the annual meeting of the British Association for the Advancement of Science. He was provoked by Boswell’s conviction to offer a cautious warning: As a geologist he [Boswell] is sceptical of the possibility of solving the problem [of placing the East Anglian glacial deposits in sequence] by geological means, and turns to archaeological evidence as supplying more reliable data for the purpose. As an archaeologist I have similar doubts as to the efficacy of my own subject, though I am inclined to believe that the possibilities of the geological approach have been underrated. I would submit that the true succession of types of the Lower and Middle Palaeolithic phases, with which alone we are concerned, appears today to be by no means as certain as it did ten years ago. Broadly speaking we have evidence of successive stages of two industries, a core industry and a flake industry. Peake explained that some stages of the flake industry, which included ‘the types known as Levallois and LeMoustier and perhaps others’, seemed to have existed in Britain before the core industry went out of use. (‘Core’ industries were those like the Chellean and Acheulian: with hand-axes that were often made on nodules or ‘cores’ of flint.) This meant that ‘the simple succession, Early Chelles, Chelles, Evolved Chelles, St Acheul, and Le Moustier no longer holds good’. Early flake industries, like Warren’s Mesvinian from Clacton, had attracted more interest of late. By appearing alongside the hand-axe industries of the simple, standard sequence, they added greater variety to the character of stone tools that had existed at any one period of time, but they also reduced the chronological value of the old Palaeolithic sequence. Boswell, though he was absent from this meeting of 1930 (his paper had been read for him), learnt of Peake’s concern. He complained the following year: ‘If, as Mr. H. Peake has recently said, ‘‘. . . the simple succession Early Chelles, Chelles, Evolved Chelles, St Acheul, and Le Moustier no longer holds good,’’ I personally almost despair of a solution’.
A World History of Nineteenth-Century Archaeology
Authors: Diaz-Andreu Margarita
Published: November 2020

Margarita Diaz-Andreu offers an innovative history of archaeology during the nineteenth century, encompassing all its fields from the origins of humanity to the medieval period, and all areas of the world. The development of archaeology is placed within the framework of contemporary political events, with a particular focus upon the ideologies of nationalism and imperialism. Diaz-Andreu examines a wide range of issues, including the creation of institutions, the conversion of the study of antiquities into a profession, public memory, changes in archaeological thought and practice, and the effect on archaeology of racism, religion, the belief in progress, hegemony, and resistance.
Colonialism and the Archaeology of the Primitive
Authors: Diaz-Andreu Margarita
Published: November 2020

Westerners encountered a wide variety of societies in their colonial expansion. Politically these were categorized from the most complex—the state societies in regions of Asia and North Africa—to those perceived as formed by savages and primitives, with the simplest types of political organization. Their entrenched belief in a philosophy of progression took Western scholars to assume an uneventful and unchanged past for these societies. It was commonly argued that savages did not have a history. Hence, they were considered as living fossils, as ‘survivals’ from earlier stages of culture long passed in Europe. In stark contrast to the awe that the ancient Great Civilizations had inspired in imperial Europe, the antiquities of primitive societies evoked a distinctly lesser regard. Instead of appropriating them as part of their own past, Western scholars remained unreceptive: no genetic links were created with the archaeology of the ‘uncivilized’, rather, they were considered to be a distorted image of the remote European—and, from the end of the century, also Japanese—past. This position was not completely new, for primitives had been regarded as a source of information with which to understand the prehistoric past in Europe since the eighteenth century, although at that time this was made within the biblical framework (Sweet 2004: 149–51). This chapter will aim, first, to explore how, during the nineteenth century, the archaeology of the primitive was used in the formation of the colonial discourse. Secondly, the following pages will also assess the interpretations Westerners provided to explain the presence of monumental antiquities in areas considered primitive and, therefore, without a distinguished past. It is important to note that the encounter with primitive societies not only took place within newly established colonies, but also within the frontiers of century-long political formations. This chapter, therefore, regards colonization as operating at two different levels. First, colonialism in the classical sense—based on territories appropriated by a foreign power in a different part of the world. Secondly, internal colonialism, a concept which in this book is employed to define the physical occupation by white settlers of territories usually inhabited by non-state societies, both within already defined boundaries of the state or in adjacent lands.
Working with images
Authors: Horning Ned , Robinson Julie A. , Sterling Eleanor J. , Turner Woody , Spector Sacha
Published: November 2020

There are two very different ways to envision a satellite image: as a photograph taken with a camera, or as a visual representation of spectral intensity data quantifying the light reflecting off of objects on a planet’s surface. In working with satellite images, sometimes the objective is to highlight and accent the information in the image using tools to enhance the way the image looks—the same goal that a professional photographer might have when working in the darkroom with film or using Photoshop to manipulate digital photographs. Another objective could be to manipulate the image using automated processing methods within a remote sensing package that rely on a set of equations that quantify information about reflected light. With either approach the goal is to gain information about conditions observed on the ground. At first glance, the image in Fig. 3.1 bears little resemblance to what most people would recognize as a terrestrial landscape. After all, its predominant colors are orange and bright turquoise. The use of colors in creating a visual image allows great breadth in the types of things one can identify on the ground, but also makes image interpretation an art. Even an inexperienced interpreter can make some sense of the image; more experienced interpreters with knowledge of the color scheme in use are able to determine finer details. For example, in Fig. 3.1 some of the more prominent features are a river (blue line on the left side of the image) a gradient of different vegetation (orange colors throughout the image that go from light to dark), and burn scars (turquoise patches). Fig. 3.2 shows a portion of landscape represented in the satellite image in Fig. 3.1. The red dot in Fig. 3.1 indicates the location where the photograph was taken. This photograph shows what a human observer would see looking south (in this case toward the top of the satellite image) from the point represented by the red dot. The view in the photograph differs from the satellite image in two important ways.
Landscape fragmentation
Authors: Horning Ned , Robinson Julie A. , Sterling Eleanor J. , Turner Woody , Spector Sacha
Published: November 2020

The country of Vietnam has long been recognized as an important region for biodiversity (Sterling et al. 2006). High-profile discoveries in the 1990s of many species new to science including large ones such as the Saola (Pseudoryx nghetinhensis), an 85 kg basal member of the cattle subfamily Bovinae and the first new genus of large land-dwelling mammal described since the okapi (Okapia johnstoni) in 1901, have focused the attention of national and international conservation organizations on Vietnam and surrounding countries in mainland Southeast Asia (Hurley et al. in prep.). Conservation action for these endemic, endangered species relies on a clear understanding of trends in habitat conversion. To track deforestation rates through time in Vietnam, Meyfroidt and Lambin (2008) combined remotely sensed data with landscape metrics such as number of patches, mean patch size, mean proximity index, and total core area index. They tested their analyses across a variety of land cover studies including those using Advanced Very High Resolution Radiometer (AVHRR), Landsat, SPOT, and MODIS data sources. They found that forest cover decreased nationally from the 1980s to the 1990s and then showed an increase between 1990 and 2000, due to plantation forests as well as natural forest regeneration. However, the effects of this forest transition on fragmentation metrics noted above differed across the country. For instance, in some places, such as central Vietnam where forest cover is relatively large and well connected, reforestation led to a decrease in forest fragmentation and secondary forests recovered rapidly. However in others, such as areas in the north where forest fragmentation dates back centuries and forests have therefore long been isolated, reforestation did not seem to have an impact on continued fragmentation and habitat loss. In this chapter we detail the importance of fragmentation and landscape metrics to ecology and conservation, outlining when and where remotely sensed data can help in these analyses. We then discuss a subset of fragmentation metrics and point to some challenges in processing fragmentation data. We provide examples of composition and connectivity metrics illuminated with examples from the remote sensing literature.
The Practice and Theory of Personal Subsidiary Farming in Soviet and Russian Agriculture
Authors: Pallot Judith , Nefedova Tat'yana
Published: November 2020

The story the official statistics tell about production in the household sector is remarkable for a country as urbanized and industrialized as the Russian Federation. As Table 2.1 shows, this former industrial giant and major oil producer derives 51 per cent of the value of its agricultural produce from farms that, on average, are under one hectare in size and, according to official land use statistics, occupy just 6.6 per cent of the country’s agricultural land (Sel' skoe khozyaistvo, okhota i lesovodstvo, 2004: 56). At the end of the Soviet period personal subsidiary farming was responsible for 26 per cent of the USSR’s agricultural output, a smaller share than now but still significant for what was at that time the world’s second largest industrial economy (Agrarnaya reforma v Rossii, 2000: 204). The post-Soviet expansion in the sector’s relative contribution mainly took place in the early 1990s after which it maintained a steady but more modest increase from the second half of the 1990s to 2002. It fell back in subsequent years but in 2004 was still contributing twice as much as before the USSR’s collapse. In West European countries such small-scale agricultural activity supplements production on large farms or it caters to niche markets. In Russia, the pattern is different and small farms are the principal producers of certain staple foodstuffs such as potatoes and vegetables and equal partners in the production of meat and dairy products. This is shown in Table 2.2. In 1990, before the collapse of communism, personal subsidiary farms accounted for 30 per cent of the country’s vegetables and fruit and between 13 and 42 per cent of the beef, pork, and mutton; collective and state farms were also major producers of these products (ibid. 205). The complementarity between large and small farming was thus a feature of the Soviet period, but it has been brought into sharper relief in the post-communist period. As a result, the importance of people’s farms in the agri-food system in the Russian Federation today can be properly understood only within the context of changes in large farming.
The Geographical Diversity of Rural Household Production
Authors: Pallot Judith , Nefedova Tat'yana
Published: November 2020

In the first chapter we introduced the reader to a variety of different types of household agricultural producers and we also suggested that the character of production is shaped by specific sets of circumstances that determine what they produce, how they produce it, and how they dispose of the product. In the next four chapters we explore these ‘specific circumstances’ and their interaction to produce distinctive geographies of household production. We begin, in this chapter, with the geographer’s traditional explanatory variables—physical environment, distance from the market, and population resources (see also Nefedova and Pallot, 2002; Pallot and Nefedova, 2003a). The impressive contribution that individual rural households make to domestic food production in the Russian Federation does not fall evenly between regions; were all households to produce the same range and volume of produce, variations in the size and composition of the rural population, the level of urbanization, and the volume of output from other farms would still create a geographical pattern. The importance of this background context is obvious when comparing Figs. 3.1 and 3.2, which are two different ways of representing the regional contribution of the household sector to the Russian domestic food economy. The first figure shows household food production as a percentage share of the value of agricultural output by regions and the second, the per capita output in tons. In the first map, regions with low population densities and/or with a struggling large farm sector, such as in regions in north and east Siberia and the Volga- Urals region, stand out for the size (over 60%) of the contribution the household sector makes. In the middle rank are regions where the household sector might have been expected to make a large contribution to total production because of a favourable physical environment and dynamically growing population, but whose performance is muted because of the productivity of the large farm sector. These include Russia’s main cereal-producing regions in the European south. Finally, a below average contribution (dropping to under 40%) is made in the cluster of oblasts in the ‘old-settled’ European Centre where both large and small farming are struggling to overcome the effects of decades of depopulation and underinvestment in rural infrastructure.
The Three Age System as Predator: Copenhagen and Lund 1836–1850
Authors: Rowley-Conwy Peter
Published: November 2020

We saw in the last chapter how Thomsen’s Three Age System was establishing itself as the ancient historical chronology started to fail in the 1830s. The years immediately following its publication in 1836 saw two major developments that Thomsen could never have foreseen. The first development was that three entirely separate chronologies came to maturity, and were grafted by their makers onto Thomsen’s stone–bronze–iron sequence. These chronologies were Sven Nilsson’s economic scheme of hunter-gatherers preceding farmers; Japetus Steenstrup’s environmental scheme of successive forest types; and the craniological scheme of racial replacement devised by Daniel Eschricht and Anders Retzius, and championed by Sven Nilsson. None could easily be linked to the ancient historical chronology; but since all three were based on material remains rather than literary sources, they were easier to link with Thomsen’s artefactual scheme, so they naturally gravitated towards it. Only Steenstrup’s environmental scheme provided any hint of absolute chronology—and the hint it gave was so revolutionary that Steenstrup initially lacked the confidence to make much of it. But as it became more secure, it gradually became evident that the human time depth revealed by the broadened Three Age System dwarfed the conception of ancient history. The First part of this chapter examines how these chronologies developed and then attached themselves to Thomsen’s. The second development was that, having attracted to itself these other chronologies, the Three Age System (in the hands of J. J. A. Worsaae) went over to the attack against ancient history. The second part of this chapter examines how Worsaae used archaeological excavation and data to wrest large parts of the material record from the ancient historians, by demonstrating that their use of it had been substantially inept. As a direct result, much of the ancient historical account lost its historical force and reverted to the status of literature and legend, leaving archaeology as the dominant voice speaking for the ancient past. In the later 1840s nationalist agendas were sharpening in various parts of Europe, and Worsaae used the archaeological voice to refute an aggressive historical claim by a German whose name is well-known in the Anglophone world— none other than Jacob Grimm, one of the brothers responsible for the fairy tales that are still so associated with their name.
Fighting it Through: England 1860–1880
Authors: Rowley-Conwy Peter
Published: November 2020

On 29 July 1858, a stone tool was found among the bones of extinct mammals in Brixham Cave. More soon appeared; they were undeniably contemporary with the bones, and the antiquity of humankind was established. A carefully planned series of publications in 1859 ensured that most of the archaeological world accepted this conclusion very rapidly, and historians of archaeology have rightly identified this episode as one of the most crucial developments the discipline has ever seen. Darwin’s Origin of Species was also published in 1859, and evolution and human antiquity between them created a huge revolution in our understanding of ourselves. Histories of the archaeology of the rest of the nineteenth century correctly devote much attention to developments in the Palaeolithic, and to Near Eastern archaeology (Grayson 1983; Trigger 1989; van Riper 1993). These were the growth areas of the discipline. Palaeolithic archaeology was elucidating the new ‘deep time’ of the human species, by working out the sequence of industries in the ‘Drift’ (glacial moraine) and the caves, and the implications of human evolution. Near Eastern archaeology was deciphering long-forgotten scripts and excavating the ruins of cities hitherto known only from the Bible or the Iliad. Less consideration has been given to other areas of archaeology, in particular the study of the later pre-Roman periods in England, and this has left the impression that little remains to be said in this area (but see Daniel 1950: 79–84). In England, however, the debate about the adoption of the Three Age System was to continue for another twenty years, and that is the topic this chapter will address. The discovery of human antiquity outflanked the short chronology until then espoused by English archaeologists. Thomas Wright wrote rather plaintively that until recently, archaeologists had considered that the pre-Roman occupation of Britain amounted to ‘a few generations, at most’, and that they had been content with the biblical chronology of ‘somewhat more than six thousand years’ (Wright 1866a: 176). This very short chronology made unnecessary any subdivision into periods. Now these archaeologists found themselves jostled by an altogether alien group of new men, who dealt in huge (though unspecified) depths of time. For these people the Three Age System provided a vital series of intermediate periods bridging the gap between the people of the drift and the caverns, and the people of the classical world.
Home Truths from Travellers’ Tales: On the Transmission of Culture in the European Iron Age
Authors: Briggs Daphne Nash
Published: November 2020

I must have been one of Barry’s first research students in Oxford when he took over supervision of my doctoral thesis in 1973. Central Gaul and its coinage in the late Iron Age were still frontier areas for research for a British student and I had come to them from Classics and Roman history, with a special interest in coinage but with no experience whatever of archaeology. I am eternally grateful to Barry for his kindly and enthusiastic guidance as I completed my thesis on time and for his encouragement to continue afterwards with research into Iron Age economy and society. He invited me to give my first public paper at the landmark Oppida conference at Rewley House in 1975 (Nash 1976) and we jointly supervised a number of research students while I was at the Ashmolean Museum as Assistant Keeper first of Roman, then of Greek coins in the Heberden Coin Room, which I left in 1986 to pursue another career as a Child Psychotherapist. I doubt I would have had the energy or self-discipline to return to part-time, freelance study of Iron Age Italy in its wider European setting a few years ago had Barry not greeted a draft of something I had written on French prehistory with, ‘Don’t stop now!’ and sponsored my application for an Honorary Research Associateship at the Institute of Archaeology at Oxford. With this chapter based on work in progress I would like to thank him for all his support over the years, and celebrate a long association. Re-reading some of Barry’s recent books with this paper in mind I found I kept wanting to engage him in conversation in the many places where, with an enviable narrative freedom that it is difficult to imagine in the academic archaeology of thirty years ago, he evokes the reality of people’s lives in the past, whether it be Pytheas’ journey to the frozen north (Cunliffe 2002) or the Celtic raiding mentality (Cunliffe 1997: 88–9) or wondering whether old fighters living in the Fayum oasis in the mid-third century BC told ‘their incredulous children stories of the fertile Danube plain or the pine-clad slopes of Mount Parnassos remembered from the time when they had camped in its shadow waiting to pillage Delphi’ (Cunliffe 1997: 182).
Cores and Peripheries Revisited: The Mining Landscapes of Wadi Faynan (Southern Jordan) 5000 BC–AD 700
Authors: Barker Graeme , Mattingly David
Published: November 2020

One of Barry Cunliffe’s major areas of research interest has been societies in transition, especially in the context of core/periphery relationships between expanding states and societies on their margins. Much of this work has been on the relationships between Rome and the Iron Age societies of southern Britain on the northwestern margins of the empire, and the subsequent pathways of resistance, interaction, and transformation. In this chapter we focus on events and processes on the opposite margins of the Roman empire in the Levant, where the Nabataean state was formally incorporated into the Roman imperial system some sixty years after the Claudian invasion of Britain. We draw on the results of the Wadi Faynan Landscape Survey (1996–2000), an interdisciplinary and diachronic investigation of evidence of environmental and climatic change, settlement pattern, and human activity in the Wadi Faynan in southern Jordan (figure 7.1). Situated about 40 kilometres from the Nabataean capital of Petra, the Wadi Faynan lies in the hot and hyper-arid Jordanian Desert, at a distinctive and spectacular mountain front that reaches 1500m above the desert floor. This landform marks the eastern margin of the desert lowlands of the great Jordanian rift valley, with the trough of the Wadi ‘Arabah to the south and west, and the highlands of the Mountains of Edom and the Jordanian tablelands to the east and north (Bienkowski and Galor 2006). The mean summer temperature on the Jordanian tablelands is in the order of 178c, compared with winter temperatures of about 12ºc (Bruins 2006; Rabb’a 1994). Winter temperatures on the desert floor in the Wadi Faynan are much the same as on the plateau, but in summer temperatures frequently reach 40ºc. Seasonality is strong, with most rain falling between December and March and virtually no precipitation occurring between June and September. Annual rainfall in the lower Wadi Faynan is around 63mm and even less in theWadi ‘Arabah (‘Aqaba receives 30mm for example), whereas the Jordanian Tablelands have an average precipitation exceeding 200mm per year.
Mapping Celticity, Mapping Celticization
Authors: Koch John T.
Published: November 2020

‘Celticity’ means the quality of being Celtic. ‘Celticization’ means the process or event(s) of becoming Celtic. Thus, Celticity involves a static or synchronic perspective and Celticization a dynamic, diachronic one. ‘Celtic’ is used here in a linguistic sense, because the debates of the past few decades over the term ‘Celtic’ seem to have left intact the concept of the Celtic languages as a proven and closely definable scientific fact, whereas Celtic culture (including Celtic art), Celtic identity, and so on, remain controversial and are prone to ambiguity (see e.g., James 1999; Sims-Williams 1998). Therefore, ‘Celtic’ here means belonging to the Indo-European sub-family of languages represented by the living Irish, Scottish Gaelic, Welsh, and Breton. These four, together with the recently extinct and now revived Manx and Cornish, and the ancient Celtiberian, Gaulish, Galatian, and Lepontic together form a genetic language family. That means, rather than having anything to do with biological genetics per se, that these languages show systematic similarities—more closely with one another than with any other attested language or group of languages—implying that they descend from a single proto-language, usually called ‘Common Celtic’ or ‘Proto-Celtic’, which had been the speech of a people, who had once formed a coherent community, occupying a particular geographic territory, at a particular time. The principle is the same as Latin and the Romance languages (French, Italian, Portuguese, Romanian, and Spanish), but in the case of classical Latin and its daughter languages the ancient proto-language is fully attested and its epicentre can be pinpointed in time and space. It is highly unlikely that Celtic or a language directly ancestral to it was the first language spoken by human beings in any part of Europe. For example, Celtic was not the language of Palaeolithic France nor of Mesolithic Ireland. Proto-Celtic is the descendant of another reconstructable language, Indo- European, which itself dates, according to various experts, somewhere within the Neolithic or Early Bronze Age (Mallory 1989). How does a language appear in a country? We shall consider three general paradigms.
Initial Survey of Observations
Authors: Tuck Adrian F.
Published: November 2020

The observations are our starting point in this book, having been obtained from research aircraft in the last two decades. Justification for this approach can be found in Section 1.3 and by noting that there are no known analytical solutions to the Navier–Stokes equation, preventing the possibility of a priori prediction of the atmosphere’s turbulent structure. We note the pioneering power spectral analysis of wind, temperature, and ozone from commercial Boeing 747 aircraft (Nastrom and Gage 1985) and the more recent data from Airbus 340 aircraft under the aegis of the MOZAIC programme (Marenco et al. 1998). Multifractal analysis was first applied to observations from an IL-12 aircraft in the tropics (Chigirinskaya et al. 1994) and has been applied to a large body of observations taken from ER- 2, WB57F, DC-8, and G4 aircraft, with dropsondes from the last of these; Chapters 2, 4 and 5 are largely devoted to the results. Many of these data were obtained in the lower stratosphere from the ER-2 in the course of investigating ozone loss in both Arctic and Antarctic regions, where there exists a reasonably well-defined, durable circulation system offering clear dynamical, chemical, and radiative signatures. A more climate-driven imperative exists to investigate the tropical upper troposphere and lower stratosphere, largely pursued with the WB57F. The recent G4 and dropsonde data were acquired in the troposphere over the eastern Pacific Ocean, in the course of investigating northern hemisphere winter storms there. The utility of balloons and then, 120 years later, from 1903, of powered aircraft for exploring atmospheric properties, were immediately obvious. The Second World War saw aircraft attaining stratospheric altitudes, revealing a very dry lower stratosphere with westerly winds in winter and easterlies in summer, with accumulation of high ozone abundances in polar regions (Brewer 1944; Dobson et al. 1945; Brewer et al. 1948; Brewer 1949; Murgatroyd and Clews 1949; Bannon et al. 1952).
Introduction
Authors: Hingley Richard
Published: November 2020

This book examines the impact of the discovery of physical evidence for Roman Britain between the late sixteenth and the early twentieth centuries. My earlier work, Roman Officers and English Gentlemen, explored how the Roman past of Britain was articulated as an aspect of ‘imperial discourse’ in British late Victorian and Edwardian society, how the Roman history and monuments of Britain were used to construct an imperial ancestry for contemporary Britain. The Roman empire, and Roman Britain in particular, were drawn upon to provide powerful contrasts and comparisons between the superpowers of their respective ages, drawing out morals and lessons for the contemporary imperial age. This book seeks to address the value of ideas derived from Roman Britain in the construction of British nationhood and in the context of empire-building, but with a far longer chronological perspective. Before the later sixteenth century, people in Britain had thought and written about the Roman past, but conventional wisdom suggests that it is only from this time that a self-critical and conscious appreciation of the classical writings that addressed Britain emerged. It is also from this time that the value of past objects and sites started to be recognized. In studying the ways that objects and remains from the pre-Roman and Roman past were received, we shall see that the increasing comprehension of the significance of ancient objects was itself a result of the gradual acceptance of the authority of the classical texts that referred to pre-Roman and Roman Britain. Knowledge of the culture and history of ancient Britain prior to this time was communicated through a series of mythical tales that presented a heroic picture of the ancient past. For the English, this ‘old British history’ presented what Philip Schwyzer has called a ‘grand and sprawling narrative’, derived mainly from Geoffrey of Monmouth’s Historia Regum Britanniae (The History of the Kings of Britain, c.1136). These powerful ideas related the initial peopling of these islands to Brutus and his followers who had fled the sack of Troy. During medieval times, various associated stories had been elaborated around mythical and semi-mythical ancient rulers of Britain, including Cymbeline and Lear.
The Geographical Matrix
Authors: Cliff A. D. , Smallman-Raynor M.R. , Haggett P. , Stroup D.F. , Thacker S.B.
Published: November 2020

A historical–geographical exploration of disease emergence is confronted by a series of fundamental questions: Which diseases have emerged? When? And where? For some high-profile diseases, such as Legionnaires’ disease, Ebola viral disease, and severe acute respiratory syndrome (SARS), the first recognized outbreaks are well documented in the scientific literature and the space–time coordinates of these early events can be fixed with a high degree of certainty. But, for some other diseases—especially those that, over the decades, have periodically resurfaced as significant public health problems—the times and places of their rise to prominence can be harder to specify. Accordingly, in this chapter we undertake a content analysis of three major epidemiological sources to identify patterns in the recognition and recording of communicable diseases of public health significance in the twentieth and early twenty-first centuries. Our analysis begins, in Section 3.2, with an examination of global and world regional patterns of communicable disease surveillance as documented in the annual statistical reports of the League of Nations/World Health Organization, 1923–83. In Section 3.3, we turn to the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s (CDC’s) landmark publication Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report (MMWR) to identify ‘headline trends’ in the national and international coverage of communicable diseases, 1952–2005. Finally, in Section 3.4, the inventory of epidemic assistance investigations (Epi-Aids) undertaken by CDC’s Epidemic Intelligence Service (EIS), 1946– 2005, provides a unique series of insights from the front line of epidemic investigative research. Informed by the evidence presented in these sections, Section 3.5 concludes by specifying the regional–thematic matrix of diseases for analysis in Chapters 4–9. The systematic international recording of information about morbidity and mortality from disease begins with the Health Organization of the League of Nations, established in the aftermath of the Great War. The first meeting of the Health Committee of the Health Section of the League took place in August 1921 to consider ‘the question of organising means of more rapid interchange of epidemiological information’ (Health Section of the League of Nations 1922: 3).
The SYPR Integrative Assessment Model: Complexity in Development
Authors: Manson Steven
Published: November 2020

Be it global environmental change or environment and development, landuse and land-cover change is central to the dynamics and consequences in question in the southern Yucatán peninsular region. Designing policies to address these impacts is hampered by the difficulty of projecting land use and land cover, not only because the dynamics are complex but also because consequences are strongly place-based. This chapter describes an integrated assessment modeling framework that builds on the research detailed in earlier chapters in order to project land-use and land-cover change in a geographically explicit way. Integrated assessment is a term that describes holistic treatments of complex problems to assess both science and policy endeavors in global environmental change (Rotmans and Dowlatabadi 1998). The most common form of integrated assessment is computer modeling that combines socioeconomic and biogeophysical factors to predict global climate. Advanced in part by the successes of these global-scale models, integrated assessment has expanded to structure knowledge and set research priorities for a large range of coupled human–environment problems. Increasing recognition is given to the need for integrated assessment models to address regionalscale problems that are masked by global-scale assessments (Walker 1994). Such models must address two issues to project successfully land-use and land-cover change at the regional scale. First, change occurs incrementally in spatially distinct patterns that have different implications for global change (Lambin 1994). Second, a model must account for the complexity of, and relationships among, socio-economic and environmental factors (B. L. Turner et al. 1995). The SYPR integrated assessment model, therefore, has a fine temporal and spatial grain and it places land-use and landcover change at the intersection of land-manager decision-making, the environment, and socio-economic institutions. What follows is a description of an ongoing integrated assessment modeling endeavor of the SYPR project (henceforth, SYPR IA model). The depth and breadth of the SYPR project poses a challenge to the integrated assessment modeling effort since some unifying framework must reconcile a broad array of issues, theories, and data. The global change research community offers a general conception of how environmental change results from infrastructure development, population pressure, market opportunities, resource institutions, and environmental or resource policies (Stern, Young, and Drukman 1992).
Vegetation
Authors: Corlett Richard T.
Published: November 2020

Southeast Asia is not a natural biogeographical unit: it extends well north out of the tropics in Myanmar, while the eastern boundary bisects the island of New Guinea. It is also divided in two by one of the sharpest zoogeographical boundaries in the world, Wallace’s line (Figure 7.1; Whitmore 1987). There is, however, one important unifying feature that distinguishes it from most other regions of the tropics: Southeast Asia is a region of forest climates. Only on the highest mountains in Papua and northern Myanmar is the climate too cold for forest and, with the possible exception of some small rain-shadow areas, it is nowhere too dry. Elsewhere the only permanent non-forest vegetation in the region before the human impacts of the last few millennia was on coastal cliffs and beaches, seasonally flooded river plains, active volcanoes, and perhaps some small inland areas on soils too poor to support forest. Today, however, as a result of human impacts, forest occupies less than half of the region, with various anthropogenic vegetation types occupying the rest. The recognition of Southeast Asia, as defined here, as a separate political and geographic entity is very recent, so it is not surprising that there has been no previous account of the vegetation of the whole region. Van Steenis (1957) gave a general account of the vegetation of Indonesia, while Whitmore (1984) concentrated on the tropical evergreen forests of the region, with only a brief description of the vegetation of drier climates. Champion (1936) described the principal forest types of Myanmar, while Vidal (1997) covered the vegetation of Thailand, Cambodia, and Lao PDR. Numerous other publications describe smaller areas or specific vegetation types. To a first approximation, the potential natural vegetation of the region (Plate 1) up to about 20°N is controlled by two main environmental gradients: a horizontal gradient of water availability and a vertical, altitudinal gradient. Water availability is determined largely by the amount and distribution of rainfall, with the length of the dry season the most important factor, although the water storage capacity of the soil becomes increasingly significant at the drier end of the gradient.
The Urban Geomorphology of Kuala Lumpur
Authors: Douglas Ian
Published: November 2020

The city of Kuala Lumpur, lying at the junction of the hills of the Main Range (Banjaran Titiwangsa) of Peninsular Malaysia and the coastal plain, has many of the environmental problems that beset the urban areas of Southeast Asia. It has to cope with heavy, intense rainfalls, frequent local nuisance flooding, unstable hillsides, complex foundation conditions, and the impacts of mining and construction activities. The citizens, engineers, and planners of Kuala Lumpur have had to find ingenious solutions in order to live in harmony with their environment. While careful investigation and skilful applications of science and technology has overcome many of the problems, others remain unresolved. The persistent problems arise because the links, and thus responsibilities, associated with changes in one place and impacts elsewhere are not acknowledged and the available understanding of hydrologic and geomorphic systems is not applied. Founded by Kapitan China Yap Ah Loy at the confluence of the Gombak and Klang Rivers in 1857 as a tin-mining settlement (Gullick 1983), Kuala Lumpur quickly outgrew its floodplain and fluvial terrace site to spread onto the adjacent hills. The British resident, Captain Bloomfield Douglas, moved his headquarters to Kuala Lumpur from Klang in 1880 and soon after built his official residence on the hill to the west of the Gombak River, where the prime minister’s residence now stands. So began a tradition of the elite living on the hills which has persisted to the present day. In December 1881 the new township and the surrounding tin mines were hit by floodwaters (Gullick 1983), so establishing the problem of living with fluvial extremes which still besets the city. Virtually every wet season in the first eighty years of Kuala Lumpur’s existence brought some flooding to the town. The river channels became choked with silt carried down from the mines upstream (Gullick 1983). Record rainfall in December 1926 led to a flood 1 m deep in the town centre. After the floods, a new, wider channel, with a double trapezoidal cross-section was built through the town centre. These works enabled a major flood in 1930 to pass through the town without causing any damage (Gullick 1983).
Rubber and the Environment in Malaysia
Authors: Beinart William , Hughes Lotte
Published: November 2020

The rise of the motor car created two very different commodity frontiers in the British Empire, one producing oil and the other rubber. The demand for rubber followed an often-repeated pattern in that it was shaped by scientific invention, technological change, and new patterns of consumption in the industrialized world. It was related directly to the development of new fossil fuels. Coal transformed shipping and overland transport by rail. Oil (Chapter 15) opened new realms for mobility. The invention in 1867 of the internal combustion engine by a German, Nikolaus Otto, and in 1885 of automobiles powered by gasoline-driven engines revolutionized transport, culture, and the South-East Asian environment. During the late nineteenth century, wild natural rubber booms swept through the tropical world, from Brazil to the Congo, leaving in their wake hardship and scandal. In Malaysia, there was a very different outcome—the development of plantations on a new capitalist agrarian frontier. Rubber became one of the single most important commodities produced in the Empire, and was enormously valuable to Britain not only for its own motor industry but also to sell to the United States. Whereas demand for some earlier imperial commodities was largely British, there was also significant consumption of rubber and oil in other parts of the Empire, especially the settler dominions. In the early decades of the twentieth century, rubber plantations, in parallel with expanding sugar production in Queensland, Natal, Trinidad, and Fiji, extended and intensified Britain’s engagement with the tropical zones of the world. Indentured workers replaced slaves as the major plantation workforce. South India was the major labour source for Malaysia, where the ports and tin-mining centres already had substantial Chinese communities. British colonialism in Malaysia left as its legacy a multi-ethnic society. By the 1930s about 55 per cent were indigenous Malays and Orang Asli, 35 per cent of Chinese origin, and close to 10 per cent Indian. Although capital was increasingly mobile by the late nineteenth century, extraction and production of the three major commodities of the twentieth century Empire proved to be highly location specific. Gold and oil were trapped in particular geological formations.