That got your attention, didn't it? As you can see from this graph, generated using Google Trends, it's got the attention of a lot of people at the moment. That vertical line on the right hand side of the graph shows the increase in popularity of 'Ebola' as a search term on Google searches. The fact that the line is vertical is an indication of the acute nature of this interest. All of a sudden, people across the word are very interested in this relatively rare, but exceedingly nasty hemorrhagic fever.
Museums should be very interested in this, for a couple of reasons. First, it's crying out for the deployment of a pop-up style exhibit on emergent diseases and zoonoses - this is exactly the sort of urgent human health/wildlife/lab science issue that we should be jumping all over. We're seen as a trusted source of information and here is an issue where public interest is intense and panic is already bubbling under (read some of the comments made on this article, for example).
Related to this, it's a prime opportunity to talk about the potential of museum collections to address matters of public interest, in this case Emergent Infectious Diseases (EIDs). This was a major thrust of my Cardiff talk (and, unfortunately, the source of the "Chris Norris hates bats" conference meme) and I'm going to beg your indulgence to repeat it here.
Some years back, while I was working at the American Museum of Natural History, we got a large grant from NSF to recurate the Museum's collection of bats, which runs to about 120,000 specimens. At the time, I had an interesting conversation with my big brother, Peter, about the the whys-and-wherefores of this project. Specifically, he expressed disbelief that I was getting paid to mess around with a bunch of pickled bats.
The broader implications of this, in terms of whether one's job is "nice" or "essential" - my brother, being a doctor, put me in the former category and himself in the latter - are something that I'm going to explore in later posts, but at the time my defense of the bat project revolved around the fact that bats are inherently interesting.
Bats are the second most diverse group of mammals (in terms of numbers of species); they fly; they echolocate; they're major pollinators and agents of insect control; and many of them are critically endangered. They can help us illuminate a variety of evolutionary and ecological problems and we need a better understanding of their systematics if we're to develop effective conservation strategies. Bat collections like the one at AMNH are a vital tool for this, and the only way to ensure that they remain accessible for researchers is to invest public funds in their care and curation.
That's the approach I took at the time, but 15 years on I think I'd probably approach things in a different way, and I'd start by telling him that bats are a major host species and vector for some very nasty zoonotic diseases, including the SARS, Nipah, Cedar, and Hendra viruses; a number of influenzas; and rabies. They're also strong candidates for the hosts of the Marburg virus and - surprise, surprise - Ebola.
Bats are the subject of intense interest by the virology community at the moment. There's something about bat physiology which, combined with their ability to fly, makes them ideal for incubating and dispersing viruses. The extent of the viral diversity within bats is quite staggering - a 2013 study of the "virome" of the Indian fruit bat Pteropus vampyrus revealed that it was the host for 55 different types of virus. 50 of these were previously unknown and of the 5 that were, one - Nipah virus - had already jumped to humans.
Now, consider that bat viromes are quite species-specific, and bats are incredibly speciose. Also consider that many of these species are poorly known, and occur in tropical rainforest that is rapidly being cleared for cultivation. And as the forest is cleared, humans and our domestic animals are going to come into contact with bats - and viruses - that we haven't previously encountered. It doesn't take a background in virology to appreciate the potential for disaster.
If we are to respond effectively to the threat of emergent diseases, we need to catalog and map bat diversity, and to describe the viral diversity within bat species. And guess what - museums can do this. We have global collections of bats that could not be replicated without massive financial investment, and an ever-expanding palate of modern molecular techniques like pan-virus-specific primers and rapid sequencing arrays that let us extract and identify viral DNA from within natural history specimens.
To me, this is - sadly perhaps - a far more compelling argument for funding the study of bats than emphasizing what truly amazing animals they are. There are a number of potential funders who will give you money because bats are interesting, but there are far more people who will give you a lot more money because they are a potential hazard to human health.
Traditionally, natural history museums have based their outreach strategy on instilling in the public a sense of wonder about the natural world, drawing on their collections to support this. But as we face of world of shrinking public funding, we have to ask some hard questions about whether this is enough and about whether we're doing a good enough job of telling the public about how those collections affect their day-to-day life, and their potential for making the world a better place. We also have to ask whether a sense of wonder is still a sufficient motivation to guarantee public funding.
Consider these numbers, taken from a 2008 review of EID events. Of the 335 such events that were recorded between 1940 and 2004, 60% were zoonotic - in other words, cases where disease had jumped to humans from another animal species. Of these zoonotic events, 72% originated with wildlife. In the words of the authors of the study "zoonoses from wildlife represent the most significant growing threat to global health from all EIDs."
If you want motivation for funding museum collections to catalog and study the natural world, you need look no further than that.