Hip new Australopithecus deyiremeda juveniles

November 30, 2025December 1, 2025 / zcofran / Leave a comment

Header: "Australopithecus deyiremeda" but in a gold Harry Potter font, beneath which in the "Chalkduster" font is written, "And the Explosion of non-adult fossils"

Dr. Yohannes Haile-Selassie & colleagues just published some amazing fossils from around 3.4 million years ago, that convincingly link an unusual hominin foot fossil to an ancient human called Australopithecus deyiremeda.

In 2012, Haile-Selassie and team reported a foot fossil from Burtele, Ethiopia, revealing a bipedal creature (like a human) but with some grasping ability in the big toe (like all other primates). Then in 2015, the team presented some jaws and teeth from a nearby geological locality in the Burtele region, around which they designated a new hominin species, Australopithecus deyiremeda. The researchers hesitated to allocate the Burtele foot to this new species since they didn’t have similar fossils for comparison between the different fossil localities. But as the scientists have recently reported, jaws and teeth discovered from the foot site, including an incredible juvenile mandible, match those of Au. deyiremeda from the nearby Burtele sites. Now we can put a foot to the name.

The Burtele fossils help reveal the diversity of early hominins like Australopithecus and the contexts out of which our own genus Homo evolved. What caught my attention hiding among this amazing assemblage was a fossil that only gets a quick mention in the paper—the ischium bone from the hip of a juvenile deyiremeda:

*Extended Data Figure 7 from Haile-Selassie et al. (2025). The BRT-VP-2/87 juvenile ischium (from the right side of the body), depicted in side (a), middle (b), and back (c) views.*

The fossil, given the catalog number BRT-VP-2/87, represents a different individual from the juvenile jaw mentioned above. It nevertheless provides a great deal of information despite being a small fragment (less than 2 inches long). The authors observe that the body of the ischium that extends beneath the hip joint is quite long, similar to modern apes, fossil Ardipithecus ramidus, and australopiths. This contrasts with the ischium of modern and fossil Homo in which the bone projects less beyond the hip socket:

Right juvenile ischium bones, scaled to similar size and oriented in similar positions. The black line on each depicts the distance from the hip socket margin to the top of the ischial tuberosity (left modified from Scheuer & Black, 2000 Fig. 10.15)

The bottom of the ischium is called the “ischial tuberosity,” and is the attachment surface for the hamstrings muscles. Having a long ischium provides the hamstrings of apes and other arboreal primates with more powerful hip extension—very useful when climbing trees but it also limits how far back the thigh can extend away from the body (Kozma et al., 2018). The shorter ischium of humans, Homo naledi, and other members of our genus may make our hamstrings a little less powerful, but it also helps us fully extend our legs which is crucial to our efficient bipedal walking and running.

Pelvis growth and development in chimpanzees (top row) and humans (bottom row), all scaled to a similar vertical height. Notice the differences in both the relative length of the ischium (blue bracket) and orientation of the ischial tuberosities between chimps and humans, consistent across the growth period. Images modified from Huseynov et al. (2016 and 2017).

Based on studies of modern humans and other primates, we know that this configuration of bones and muscles is established before birth, so we can be confident that adult Au. deyiremeda would have had a similar anatomy to BRT-VP-2/73, albeit at an unknown, larger size. A hip well adapted for climbing is consistent with the Burtele foot with a grasping big toe.

As Haile-Selassie and colleagues note in the online supplementary information accompanying the paper, only immature fossils allow us to reconstruct the evolution of growth and development. But one of the major challenges of studying immature remains is determining their age or state of maturation, which is critical for understanding how much change occurs between, say, infancy and adulthood. The authors of this study note that the qualitative appearance of the BRT-VP-2/73 hip socket surface is like that of modern humans around 6 years of age, yet the fossil is much smaller and more similar in size to 3 year-old humans. My colleagues and I (2022) faced a similar challenge when analyzing a juvenile Homo naledi hip, and we also relied on qualitative comparisons of how the joint “looks” at different stages of development.

But I think we’re at a point now where we can try to quantify some of these tricky developing surfaces to help place immature fossils more precisely along a timeline of development. For example, Peter Stamos & Tim Weaver (2020) adapted a method for quantifying the topography of teeth, to measure the complex curvature of the developing surface of the knee. If these quantitative methods can distinguish different phases of development in large samples of humans and other primates (e.g., Stamos et al., 2025), they could then be extended to the immature hominin fossil record.

Some cool insights could also be gained by applying older and established methods like landmark-based geometric morphometrics, even on quite fragmentary fossils. This approach could capture the development and orientation of the ischial tuberosity relative to the hip socket surface in fragments like BRT-VP-2/73, MLD 8, and Homo naledi fossils (depicted above) and compared with fossil adults. Researchers have also devised robust ways of quantifying size and shape changes during growth based on modern animals, and using these patterns to then ‘grow’ immature fossils to more developed states, for comparison with actual adult fossils (McNulty et al., 2006). Applying this approach to even just the small fossil sample of ischia described here could tell us a lot about how ancient animals moved at different periods in their lives. Someone just needs to park their ischial tuberosities in a chair and do it!

A growing fossil record of immature hominins, alongside technical advances in quantifying and comparing anatomy, mean that we are ready to learn much more about how our extinct ancestors and cousins grew into competent adults.

The hand of Homo naledi points to life before birth

December 5, 2024December 7, 2024 / zcofran / Leave a comment

Homo naledi is one of my favorite extinct humans, in part because its impressive fossil record provides rare insights into patterns and process of growth and development. When researchers began recovering naledi fossils from Rising Star Cave 10 years ago, one of the coolest finds was this nearly complete hand skeleton. The individual bones were still articulated practically as they were in life so we know which bones belong to which fingers, allowing us grasp how dextrous this ancient human was. And since finger proportions are established before birth during embryonic development, we can see if Homo naledi bodies were assembled in ways more like us or other apes.

*The “Hand 1” skeleton of* Homo naledi, adapted from a figure by Kivell and colleagues (2015). Left shows the palm-side view while the middle shows the back of the hand. The inset (b) shows many of the palm and finger bones as they were found in situ in Rising Star Cave.

In a paper hot off the press (here), I teamed up with Dr. Tracy Kivell to analyze finger lengths of Homo naledi from the perspective of developmental biology. On the one hand, repeating structures such as teeth or the bones of a finger must be coordinated in their development, and scientists way smarter than me have come up with mathematical models predicting the relative sizes of these structures (for instance, teeth, digits, and more). On the other hand, the relative lengths of the second and fourth digits (pointer and ring fingers, respectively) are influenced by exposure to sex hormones during a narrow window in embryonic development: this ‘digit ratio’ tends to differ between mammalian males and females, and between primate species with different social systems.

So, Tracy and I examined the lengths of the three bones within the second digit (PP2, IP2, DP2) and of the first segment of the second and fourth digits (2P:4P) in Homo naledi, compared to published data for living and fossil primates (here and here). What did we find out?

*Summary of our paper showing the finger segments analyzed (left), and graphs of the main results (right). The position of* Homo naledi is highlighted by the blue star in each graph.

The first graph above compares the relative length of the first and last segments of the pointer finger across humans, apes, and fossil species. The dashed line shows where the data points are predicted to fall based on a theoretical model of development. There is a general separation between humans and the apes reflecting the fact that humans have a relatively long distal segment, which is important for precise grips when manipulating small objects. Fossil apes from millions of years ago and the 4.4 million year old hominin Ardipithecus are more like apes, while Homo naledi and more recent hominins are more like modern humans. Because both humans and apes fall close to the model predictions, this means the theoretical model does a good job of explaining how fingers develop. Because humans and apes differ from one another, this suggests a subtle ‘tweak’ to embryonic development may underlie the evolution of a precision grip in the human lineage, and that it occurred between the appearance of Ardipithecus and Homo.

The second graph compares the ‘digit ratio’ of the pointer and ring fingers from a handful of fossils with published ratios for humans and the other apes. Importantly, the digit ratio is high in gibbons (Hylobates) which usually form monogamous pair bonds, while the great apes (Pongo, Gorilla, Pan) are characterized by greater aggression and mating competition and have correspondingly lower digit ratios. Ever the bad primates, humans fall in between these two extremes. Most fossil apes and hominins have digit ratios within the range of overlap between the ape and human ratios, but Homo naledi has the highest ratio of all fossil hominins known, just above the human average. It has previously been suggested that humans’ higher ratio compared to earlier hominins may result from natural selection favoring less aggression and more cooperation recently in our evolution. If we can really extrapolate from digit proportions to behavior, this could mean Homo naledi was also less aggressive. This is consistent with the absence of healed skull fractures in the vast cranial sample (such skull injuries are common in much of the rest of the human fossil record).

You can see the amazing articulated Homo naledi hand skeleton for yourself on Morphosource. Its completeness reveals how handy Homo naledi was 300,000 years ago, and it can even shed light on the evolution of growth and development (and possibly social behavior) in the human lineage.

What do brain endocasts tell us?

November 10, 2023December 7, 2024 / zcofran / Leave a comment

What makes the human brain special, and how did it change throughout our evolutionary history? One way to answer this question by comparing actual brains or MRI scans of living animals. But only fossils can show what changed and when over the past several million years, and sadly brains are basically an elaborately congealed soup that doesn’t stay fresh upon death, so they never fossilize (well, almost never). Happily, though, bones can preserve for millions of years, and they are literally molded by their soft and squishy surroundings. As the brain grows, it pushes outward against the inner surface of the skull, which can save the scars of the submerged cerebrum: nerds like me call these impressions an “endocast.”

*Endocasts of* Homo naledi (pink) and Homo erectus (yellow). Fossils are viewed from the left side and are variably preserved.

Nicole Labra and Antoine Balzeau have led a cool study, hot off the press, examining what such endocasts can tell us about the underlying brain anatomy. Importantly, they show how difficult it is to clearly and consistently identify many brainy boundaries. This is very salient in “paleoneurology,” the study of brain evolution especially based off endocasts: the problem probably best illustrated by the nearly century-long debate about the natural endcoast of the “Taung child” fossil (Australopithecus africanus).

Labra & colleagues used a clever approach to address this paleontological and epistemological problem. They first generated an endocast directly associated with its brain from an MRI scan of a living human, allowing them see precisely where specific brain grooves (“sulci”) lay relative to the endocast surface. They then asked a bunch of researchers—myself included—to try to identify sulci on the endocast, and then looked at how our responses compared to both one another’s and to the actual, known sulcus positions.

*Figure 1 from Labra et al. (in press) showing how the brain and endocast were obtained and analyzed.*

Their analysis showed that we varied quite a bit in our identifications on the endocast. As Emiliano Bruner (who also participated) discusses in his blog post, we tended to identify the stronger impressions toward the bottom and sides of the endocast better and more consistently. Some of this variability and uncertainty among researchers is due to the faintness and incompleteness of many brain impressions, and some due to biased expectations about where a given sulcus “should” be based on our previous experiences and published references.

When Antoine Balzeau first contacted me about this project, I was just beginning to dabble in paleoneurology, learning some brain anatomy for the first time for a description of an old Australopithecus endocast called “MLD 3.” I initially thought MLD 3 would be a quick and simple study—boy was I spectacularly disappointed!

*Figure 3 from Cofran et al. 2023, comparing two different chimpanzee brains, and two corresponding interpretations of the MLD 3 endocast.*

Probably reflecting observer bias and desire for definitive results, we initially interpreted the endocast impressions on MLD 3 as representing a ‘human-like’ anatomy that is super rare in living chimpanzees (namely the “LS” depicted in the right half of the figure above). The researchers who peer-reviewed the first draft of our paper, though, suggested we be more cautious in our interpretations; one reviewer outright disagreed with us in support of a more ‘ape-like’ interpretation (left half of the figure above). The review process alone underscored the subjectivity and uncertainty in analyzing endocasts. In the end we presented both interpretations, and I honestly don’t know which (if either) is most likely to be correct. So the study by Labra and colleagues provides a nice empirical illustration of this cranial conundrum.

Fortunately, researchers are developing methods to help identify brain structures on endocasts. Amélie Beaudet, Jean Dumoncel, and Edwin de Jager among others have done some really impressive work looking at variability in both brains (for instance here) and endocasts (for instance here). By using computer-based 3D data and methods, these researchers have shown where many brain sulci tend to be located (see here). By developing a better understanding of variation in where sulci sit on an endocast, we can have a better idea of which sulci might be represented on fossil endocasts, which in turn can tell us about the brains of our extinct relatives. Edwin and Amélie presented a very cool new analysis of Australopithecus/Paranthropus boisei endocasts, building off this digital approach, at the recent ESHE conference. And as noted in our MLD 3 paper, I think machine learning and other ‘artificial intelligence’ approaches could also help us identify ambiguous features from frustrating fossil fragments.

Did Homo naledi have big babies?

August 8, 2023December 7, 2024 / zcofran / Leave a comment

I’m working on a project analyzing infant remains of Homo naledi, a species of human that lived in South Africa around 300,000 years ago. In order to paint a full picture of infancy in this species, we need to estimate how big (or small) naledi newborns were. But without fossil neonates that could provide direct evidence of body size at birth, this is a tricky task.

Ideally, we could simply use adult body size estimates for Homo naledi to predict its body size at birth, using the scaling relationship in other primates as a guide. For example, using an average adult body size of 44 kg for Homo naledi (Garvin et al., 2017) yields an estimated newborn size of around 1.5 kg, based on published primate dataset (Barton and Cappellini, 2011). But this approach necessarily overlooks variation within each species, not to mention variation and uncertainty in Homo naledi adult size. In addition, the 95% prediction interval for this estimate ranges from under 1 kg (smaller than an average baboon baby) to almost as large as a human neonate.

Primate body size scaling (Barton & Cappellini, 2011). The black line is the regression for catarrhines (purple squares and blue circles), and the shaded grey area is the 95% prediction interval for newborns at a given adult catarrhine size.

And this gets at the other issue with the regression-based approach to estimating newborn body size in fossil hominins: humans are bad at being primates in some ways, as illustrated here by the fact that we don’t fit the newborn-adult body size relationship that characterizes other catarrhines (apes and monkeys of Africa and Eurasia).

Humans give birth to collosal kids. In contrast, gorillas are the largest living primates as adults, but their newborns are only a little over half the size of human neonates. Why do we have such giant babies? The most proximate reason is that humans are born with adult-ape-sized brains and quite a bit of baby fat as far as mammals go (Kuzawa, 1998). This tells us how babies are big, but it still begs the ultimate question of why—an enduring puzzle that you may have read about in the New York Times last week.

In order to land on a reasonable estimate of newborn body size in extinct humans, we need to figure out when evolution blew up the kid. Unfortunately, the only fossil hominin neonates are two Neandertals from France and Russia dating to under 100,000 years ago—pretty remarkable, but they don’t necessarily tell us about earlier species like Homo naledi.

My colleague Jerry Desilva (2011) worked out a potential solution to this conundrum. He argued that one could work from adult brain size to newborn body size through the following steps. First, in contrast to newborn-adult body size scaling, humans are good catarrhines when it comes to newborn-adult brain size scaling. This means that we can reasonably estimate newborn brain size based on adult brain sizes, which are aplenty in the human fossil record. Second, humans and many other primate newborns have brains roughly 12% of their overall body mass, while the great ape newborns stand out with brains around 10% of their adult size. Putting these two pieces together, one could estimate newborn body size: Adult brain ➡️ newborn brain ➡️ 10–12% newborn body size

DeSilva showed that regardless of whether you use an ape or human model of newborn brain/body size, hominin babies from Australopithecus afarensis 3 million years ago onward were probably large relative to maternal body size, estimated independently using skeletal remains. It’s a bit of a tortuous approach to estimating body size at birth, but the assumptions are reasonable and it’s probably the best way to figure out this important life history variable given the fossil evidence. What does this mean for Homo naledi?

*Virtual reconstruction of brain size and shape of the Homo naledi cranium “Neo” (work in progress). At 610 cm³, this is the largest and most complete Homo naledi endocast.*

There are a few reliable adult brain size estimates for naledi, ranging from 465–610 cm³ (Berger et al., 2015; Garvin et al., 2017; Hawks et al., 2017), which based on catarrhine scaling would predict newborn brain size of around 170–210 cm³ (DeSilva and Lesnik, 2008). These brain sizes would then predict newborn body sizes of around 1.4–2.1 kg: the smol estimate is based on the smallest naledi adult brain size and a human model of newborn brain/body size; the chonk estimate is based on the largest naledi brain size and an ape brain/body model (pinkish stars in the boxplot below, left).

*Boxplots of newborn body size in great apes. Gorilla, Chimpanzee, and Bonobo data from the Primate Aging Database* *(Kemnitz, 2019)*.

So, did Homo naledi have big babies? On the one hand, no: these 1.4–2.1 kg naledi newborns are outside the human range, and within the range of living great apes.

On the other hand, maybe Homo naledi babies were relatively large, though this depends on the size of Homo naledi adults. Recall from earlier that Garvin and colleagues arrived at an average estimated adult size of 44.2 kg. But this is an average of estimates for 20 separate naledi fossils, and each of these estimates has its own range of uncertainty. Garvin and team reported that the extremes of the prediction intervals for these estimates ranged from 28–62 kg. The second boxplot above shows newborn size relative to the adult average (sexes combined) for each species: for naledi, the six labels compare the smol and large newborn sizes (1.4 and 2.1 kg) with the adult average and extremes (28, 44, and 62 kg). Assuming the ‘true’ naledi sizes are somewhere in the middle of the range of estimates, naledi likely gave birth to babies 3–5% of adult body size, somewhat ‘intermediate’ between chimpanzees and humans (and bonobos…?) and similar to what DeSilva found for other hominins.

This is just a preliminary look at infancy in Homo naledi. There is a lot of uncertainty in these size estimates, but we should still be able to make some interesting inferences about growth and life history in our extinct evolutionary cousin.

REFERENCES

Barton, R. A., & Capellini, I. (2011). Maternal investment, life histories, and the costs of brain growth in mammals. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 108(15), 6169–6174. https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1019140108

Berger, L. R., Hawks, J., de Ruiter, D. J., Churchill, S. E., Schmid, P., Delezene, L. K., … Zipfel, B. (2015). Homo naledi, a new species of the genus Homo from the Dinaledi Chamber, South Africa. ELife, 4, e09560. https://doi.org/10.7554/eLife.09560

DeSilva, J. M. (2011). A shift toward birthing relatively large infants early in human evolution. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 108(3), 1022–1027. https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1003865108

DeSilva, J. M., & Lesnik, J. J. (2008). Brain size at birth throughout human evolution: A new method for estimating neonatal brain size in hominins. Journal of Human Evolution, 55(6), 1064–1074. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jhevol.2008.07.008

Garvin, H. M., Elliott, M. C., Delezene, L. K., Hawks, J., Churchill, S. E., Berger, L. R., & Holliday, T. W. (2017). Body size, brain size, and sexual dimorphism in Homo naledi from the Dinaledi Chamber. Journal of Human Evolution, 111, 119–138. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jhevol.2017.06.010

Hawks, J., Elliott, M., Schmid, P., Churchill, S. E., Ruiter, D. J. de, Roberts, E. M., … Berger, L. R. (2017). New fossil remains of Homo naledi from the Lesedi Chamber, South Africa. ELife, 6, e24232. https://doi.org/10.7554/eLife.24232

Kemnitz, J. W. (2019). Database for indices of aging in nonhuman primates. Innovation in Aging, 3(Suppl 1), S957. https://doi.org/10.1093/geroni/igz038.3472

Kuzawa, C. W. (1998). Adipose tissue in human infancy and childhood: An evolutionary perspective. American Journal of Physical Anthropology, 107(S27), 177–209. https://doi.org/10.1002/(SICI)1096-8644(1998)107:27+<177::AID-AJPA7>3.0.CO;2-B

Worst year in review

December 31, 2016December 31, 2016 / zcofran / Leave a comment

As we’re wrapping up what may be the worst year in recent global memory, especially geopolitically, let’s take a moment to review some more positive things that came up at Lawnchair in 2016.

Headed home

Alternate subtitle: Go West
This was a quiet year on the blog, with only 18 posts compared with the roughly thirty per year in 2014-2015. The major reason for the silence was that I moved from Kazakhstan back to the US to join the Anthropology Department at Vassar College in New York. With all the movement there was less time to blog. Much of the second half of 2016 was spent setting up the Biological Anthropology Lab at Vassar, which will focus on “virtual” anthropology, including 3D surface scanning…

Cast of early Homo cranium KNM-ER 1470 and 3D surface scan made in the lab using an Artec Spider.

… and 3D printing.

A gibbon endocast, created from a CT scan using Avizo software and printed on a Zortrax M200.

This first semester stateside I reworked my ‘Intro to Bio Anthro’ and ‘Race’ courses, which I think went pretty well being presented to an American audience for the first time. The latter class examines human biological variation, situating empirical observations in modern and historical social contexts. This is an especially important class today as 2016 saw a rise in nationalist and racist movements across the globe. Just yesterday Sarah Zhang published an essay in The Atlantic titled, “Will the Alt-right peddle a new kind of racist genetics?” It’s a great read, and I’m pleased to say that in the Race class this semester, we addressed all of the various social and scientific issues that came up in that piece. Admittedly though, I’m dismayed that this scary question has to be raised at this point in time, but it’s important for scholars to address and publicize given our society’s tragically short and selective memory.

So the first semester went well, and next semester I’ll be teaching a seminar focused on Homo naledi and a mid-level course on the prehistory of Central Asia. The Homo naledi class will be lots of fun, as we’ll used 3D printouts of H. naledi and other hominin species to address questions in human evolution. The Central Asia class will be good prep for when I return to Kazakhstan next summer to continue the hunt for human fossils in the country.

Osteology is still everywhere

A recurring segment over the years has been “Osteology Everywhere,” in which I recount how something I’ve seen out and about reminds me of a certain bone or fossil. Five of the blog 18 posts this year were OAs, and four of these were fossiliferous: I saw …

Anatomy terminology hidden in 3D block letters,

Hominin canines in Kazakhstani baursaki cakes,

The Ardipithecus ramidus ilium in Almaty,

A Homo naledi juvenile femur head in nutmeg,

And a Homo erectus cranium on a Bangkok sidewalk. As I’m teaching a fossil-focused seminar next semester, OA will probably become increasingly about fossils, and I’ll probably get my students involved in the fun as well.

New discoveries and enduring questions

The most-read post on the blog this year was about the recovery of the oldest human Nuclear DNA, from the 450,000 year old Sima de los Huesos fossils. My 2013 prediction that nuclear DNA would conflict with mtDNA by showing these hominins to be closer to Neandertals than Denisovans was shown to be correct.

These results are significant in part because they demonstrate one way that new insights can be gained from fossils that have been known for years. But more intriguingly, the ability of researchers to extract DNA from exceedingly old fossils suggests that this is only the tip of the iceberg.

The other major discoveries I covered this year were the capuchin monkeys who made stone tools and the possibility that living humans and extinct Neandertals share a common pattern of brain development.

An unrelated image from 2016 that makes me laugh.

The comparison between monkey-made and anthropogenic stone tools drives home the now dated fact that humans aren’t the only rock-modifiers. But the significance for the evolution of human tool use is less clear cut – what are the parallels (if any) in the motivation and modification of rocks between hominins and capuchins, who haven’t shared a common ancestor for tens of millions of years? I’m sure we’ll hear more on that in the coming years.

In the case of whether Neandertal brain development is like that of humans, I pointed out that new study’s results differ from previous research probably because of differences samples and methods. The only way to reconcile this issue is for the two teams of researchers, one based in Zurich and the other in Leipzig, to come together or for a third party to try their hand at the analysis. Maybe we’ll see this in 2017, maybe not.

There were other cool things in 2016 that I just didn’t get around to writing about, such as the publication of new Laetoli footprints with accompanying free 3D scans, new papers on Homo naledi that are in press in the Journal of Human Evolution, and new analysis of old Lucy (Australopithecus afarensis) fossils suggesting that she spent a lifetime climbing trees but may have sucked at it. But here’s hoping that 2017 tops 2016, on the blog, in the fossil record, and basically on Earth in general.

Osteology Everywhere: Skeletal Spice

November 27, 2016November 27, 2016 / zcofran / 1 Comment

The American winter holiday season is steeped in special spices, such as nutmeg, cloves, cinnamon, and whatever the hell pumpkin spice is. I guess as part of the never-ending War on Christmas, each year this sensory and commercial immersion begins earlier and earlier. Since these have become old news, I’d pretty much forgotten about the seasonal spicecapade until just the other day. In prep for minor holiday gluttony, I was grinding fresh nutmeg when I made a startling discovery. Nutmeg is not just the fragrant fruit of the Myristica fragrans tree. No, there’s something far more sinister in this holiday staple.

Merely nutmeg?

The ground section looks superficially like an unfused epiphyseal surface, whereas the rounded outer surface is more spherical. It turns out, in the most nefarious of all holiday conspiracies since the War on Christmas, nutmeg halves are nothing more than unfused femur heads! Compare with the epiphyseal surface of this Homo naledi femur head:

Nutmeg (left) and H. naledi specimen UW 101-1098 (right).

This immature H. naledi specimen was recently published (Marchi et al., in press), and the associated 3D surface scan has been available for free download on Morphosource.org for a while now. It fits onto a proximal femur fragment, UW 101-1000, also free to download from Morphosource.

Modified Fig. 11 from Marchi et al. It’s weird that only H. naledi bones were found in the Dinaledi chamber, but even weirder is the underreported presence of nutmeg.

Like most bones in the skeleton, the femur is comprised of many separate pieces that appear and fuse together at different, fairly predictable ages. The shaft of the femur appears and turns to bone before birth, and the femur head, which forms the ball in the hip joint, usually appears within the first year of life and fuses to the femur neck in adolescence (Scheuer and Black, 2000). So we know this H. naledi individual was somewhere between 1–15ish years by human standards, probably in the latter half of this large range.

So there you have it. Osteology is everywhere – the holidays are practically a pit of bones if you keep your eyes open.

REFERENCES

Marchi D, Walker CS, Wei P, Holliday TW, Churchill SE, Berger LR, & DeSilva JM (2016). The thigh and leg of Homo naledi. Journal of Human Evolution PMID: 27855981.

Scheuer L and Black S. 2000. Developmental Juvenile Osteology. New York: Elsevier Academic Press.

Lawnchair Anthropology

Biological anthropology, paleontology, evolution, and development, by Dr. Zachary Cofran

Dinaledi