Endangered Pallid Sturgeon

Over the past week I’ve been working on a story about a study at the USGS Columbia Environmental Research Center. Researchers there, in conjunction with those at the University of Missouri and the Iowa State University, are developing models to help predict how the Missouri River sturgeon population may respond to climate change.

I started out by talking to USGS research ecologist Mark Wildhaber. He’s been studying fish – in one way or another – nearly his entire life. As a kid, he turned his parent’s basement into an aquarium shop, breeding and selling species he deemed interesting. His love of marine life was apparent, so I knew I’d get a good answer when I asked him to describe a sturgeon. You know, because radio listeners can’t actually see one.

After a few laughs – he said he’d never been asked that question before – Wildhaber came to this conclusion: A sturgeon is in fact kind of like a dog. A while ago researchers decided to use endoscopes and ultrasounds to determine if a sturgeon is male or female. That fact is not outwardly apparent for sturgeon, and researchers used to cut them open. But now when they use these methods on the fish, Wildhaber says the sturgeon basically just roll over, no struggling or squirming as you might expect.

“For people to look at them and think that they might be something mean and dangerous, they’re kind of like having a golden retriever,” Wildhaber said. “If anybody knows what a golden retriever’s like, it’s basically like that. They just sit there and do their thing, let you handle them how you feel, and go back to their business.”

Wildhaber says the dog-like sturgeon have actually inhabited the Earth since dinosaurs roamed around. But now their numbers are dwindling. Back in the late 1800s fishermen harvested the pallid sturgeon for caviar.

And today the sturgeon population is still feeling those effects. The sturgeon’s life cycle is a lot like our own: They live to be about 60 to 80 years old. That means only five or six generations are alive at one time. And that’s one reason Wildhaber says this study is important. Subtle changes won’t show up in a few years time with the sturgeon populations. He says the models will hopefully help predict what will happen many decades down the road.

“It’s very important to understand it,” Wildhaber said, “because obviously if you don’t understand it until after it’s happened, it’s obviously too late.”

--Courtney Flatt
Producer for Business Beat, Reporter and Web Producer

"Catfish" And The Spoiler Debate

I just saw the movie Catfish at Ragtag Cinema - don’t worry, I won’t ruin the twist for you. All you’re supposed to know is that it’s a documentary that follows a New York City photographer’s online friendships with two sisters in Michigan as they develop. But it got me thinking about spoilers in general. Ideally, no one should have a movie twist spoiled for them; but shouldn't a really good movie still be good even if you know how it ends?

My aunt chides me for reading movie reviews, saying they give too much away about the plot. A common cause for complaint among movie-goers is previews that give the best parts away: often, the trailer is funnier/more compelling than the movie. The trailer for Ben Affleck’s The Town is a prime example: viewers walk away already knowing who the bank robber is. One could argue that the real suspense of the movie lay elsewhere, but it’s a pretty big chunk of information to just give away.

My argument is that even if the reviewer or trailer give away too much - if it’s a really good movie - I would watch it again anyway, even though I would know what’s coming. I don’t change the channel when Godfather II comes on just because I already know what happens to Freddo.
But … I got to experience that surprise once, the way it was meant to be experienced - while watching the movie. No one told me in advance. Would it have ruined it for me? (Did knowing that Sofia Coppolla was going to suck ruin Godfather III for me?)

I enjoyed Sophie’s Choice despite knowing in advance what her choice was. I did not enjoy Citizen Kane, but I don’t think Rosebud is at fault. And The Crying Game has been a punchline for years.

Perhaps the real question is whether the movie’s worth is totally dependent on the purity of your twist experience. After you see it once, is it worth seeing again? Would you watch Sixth Sense again, or would it bore you? I found Garden State less compelling the second time around, knowing the dramatic revelation to come.

This is especially pertinent to whodunits: the second time I saw Gosford Park, I realized I could hardly understand a word they were saying: in part because of the accents, and in part because of Robert Altman’s insistence on making his actors all talk at once. Before, I had been so focused on figuring out the mystery that I didn’t mind.

Maybe suspense is not important for me. I am happy to sit through episode after episode of Law & Order and House despite knowing that a twist will come at quarter til, and whatever conclusion they reached at half past will be undermined.

Some things are a given. (Don’t worry too much about James Bond: he will pull through.) My friend Annie has taught me several rules. The cute dog will be saved (in most American films). If we see a woman leave a bathroom - she is pregnant. Also, if she coughs, she is probably dying. (For two out of three: see Pearl Harbor).

Knowing the twist, would I see Catfish again? I’m not sure. But notice, I haven’t given away a single ending in this post. There are worse things than having a movie twist spoiled, sure. But even though it might make no difference - why not keep you in suspense?

-Virginia Pasley, Anchor and Reporter

P.S. For those who don’t care about suspense … have at it!