Gordon John Howes 1938-2013 (Fish Systematist)

Abstract

Gordon Howes with PhD student Mo Tian-Pei in Gordon's office, old Spirit Building, British Museum of Natural History, in the 1980s. Gordon Howes was born in Kingsbury, north London, England, on 2 August 1938 and he died on 6 March 2013. He had been ill for several months, though had remained characteristically cheerful throughout this time. His health declined rapidly in early March, triggering fatal internal organ failure. Gordon, Gordi to his large array of close friends and work colleagues, was an internationally respected ichthyologist who was largely self-taught through his enormous enthusiasm for the subject, his earnestness in listening and learning from colleagues, and his amazing capacity for observation. The example he set for how to be an excellent researcher, and how to thrive on curiosity, was deeply influential for all of us. Gordon's interests in systematic ichthyology were broad. He had once said that he was hesitant to focus his energy solely on one particular group of fishes and become a world expert on them; he would rather understand the breadth and diversity of fishes, because he felt that learning about many different groups provided the perspective needed to understand the subtleties of any one group. To paraphrase from Gordon himself [in his description of Humphry Greenwood (Howes, 1995)], Gordon had a holistic eye for morphology which enabled him to see ‘the place of the particular within the general.’ So, he was a bit of a ‘Jack of all trades,’ but remained impressively masterly of many of them at the same time. His work covered the anatomy, phylogenetics and biogeography of Cypriniformes, Siluriformes, Characiformes, Gonorynchiformes, Gadiformes, Ophidiformes, Osmeriformes and Mugiliformes. He was also quick to appreciate the importance of fossil taxa, one of his early publications was on fossil fishes (Greenwood & Howes, 1975), and he had an enormous respect for his palaeoichthyologist colleagues at the Natural History Museum in London, such as Colin Patterson and Peter Forey. Gordon's father worked for Harland & Wolff, where he was responsible for the docking and unloading of ships, including the time of World War 2 and the Blitz, and he spent time working for the aircraft manufacturer, De Havilland. His mother worked as a nanny until she had her own children and was then a full-time housewife. Gordon did not talk much about his family life, but he indicated his respect for his father's capacity to manage a large work staff professionally and effectively; he once wryly commented that the rising, self-styled ‘middle managers’ of the scientific civil service in the late 1980s and early 1990s, who exasperated him towards the end of his scientific career, could have learned some skills from people such as his father who really knew how to manage people. Gordon is survived by his sister, Hazel; they were close throughout his life and he spoke of her affectionately. Gordon left school at the age of 15 to work in commerce, at the well-known photographic company Wallace Heaton Ltd in New Bond Street, London. He was a focused worker throughout his life, and did not like interruptions. For example, while working at Wallace Heaton Ltd, he was trying to complete some complicated shipping forms and was being interrupted by the phone ringing. Finally, he picked up the phone and shouted ‘I don't care who you are, just bugger off,’ before slamming down the phone. Unfortunately, at the other end of the phone was Jack Wallace Heaton, the owner of the business. It was only the intervention of the departmental manager and a begrudging letter of apology that saved Gordon's job. This was also perhaps the start of a tempestuous relationship that Gordon had with phones (see below). While working at New Bond Street, Gordon studied in the evening, acquiring his ‘O’ and ‘A’ level exams. He did a short period of voluntary work at the Natural History Museum in London after which, in 1968, he was offered a position in the museum as a Scientific Assistant in the Fish Section, and was assigned as a personal assistant to Humphry Greenwood. His initial responsibilities were often clerical, for example, taking letters for Humphry (Gordon's skills included short-hand, but he had adapted his own method for this) and doing scientific illustration. Gordon's scientific illustrations are typically accurate, clear and uncluttered; these were critical issues for Gordon in all aspects of his work. He was a great believer in transmitting knowledge to people in a way that expressed the important information without unnecessary complexity. He deeply valued clarity, honesty and clear-thinking. Gordon wanted people to appreciate the subtleties of fish anatomy as much as he did. This desire was also transferred to the paintings of fishes that he worked on through much of his career at the Natural History Museum and after his retirement. As with so many of his skills, his artistry was largely self-taught. He preferred realism in his art. He could paint an excellent, traditional lateral profile of a fish showing colour beautifully. He also liked to paint fishes from unusual angles, to help the viewer understand the living form of the fish better, for example, halfbeaks facing head on, tunas in fast turns away from the viewer, all giving an intriguing perspective that one did not usually encounter. Gordon worked in the Fish Section of the Natural History Museum for 25 years, rising through the ranks on the way. He conducted fieldwork during this time, in Africa and in South America, but his real energy was in the collection room and laboratory, where his scientific mind and great skills as an artist found fulfilment and he contributed an important body of work to science. He wrote over 40 scientific papers during his career at the Natural History Museum, an impressive record given the large number of other tasks he had to perform as part of his job, as well as the extra work he happily chose to take on to help students and researchers visiting the museum. Gordon was extremely serious about the care of the fish collection, working side-by-side with his colleagues in cataloguing, documenting and curating the collection, answering public enquiries and assisting with loans. He sometimes became exasperated when distractions prevented him from focusing on projects. True to his sense of honesty throughout life, Gordon would not hide that exasperation from his colleagues. There is a legendary story of him smashing a Natural History Museum phone into pieces when he finally could no longer deal with the constant phone interruptions (haven't we all wanted to do that at some point in time?). Gordon, however, consistently went out of his way to be helpful to anyone who needed his assistance. His professional attitude was well summarized by Roberts & Stewart (1976) in their Acknowledgements where they state ‘Gordon Howes responded with his characteristic promptness and thoroughness to our requests for information about types and other specimens housed in the British Museum.’ This description barely scratches the surface of how open Gordon was to helping others and taking an interest in them. For example, Gordon worked closely with the aquarist community in the greater London area. One of us (R.V.) was struck, on more than one occasion, by the incongruity of some visiting aquarist holding a plastic bag with a live fish next to a jar containing a holotype in discoloured alcohol while Gordon attempted to determine whether they were conspecific. These fishes were often Lake Victoria cichlids and the visitors were more than likely people who had been expecting to meet with Humphry Greenwood but instead received Gordon's patient and unstinting help. Gordon also gave excellent presentations to aquarist groups (especially catfish enthusiasts) around London. He would travel to these often accompanied by colleagues from the museum and loaded down with fish skulls and whole specimens which he used to great effect to engage the interest of his audience. For his research, Gordon had a long-lasting interest in cyprinids. He published on cypriniforms more than on any other group. His review of the systematics and biogeography of cyprinids (Howes, 1991a) provided an excellent and easily understandable introduction into these complex subjects. Most of Gordon's papers focused on internal anatomy (particularly the identification of skeletal, muscular and nerve characters) and he used this information to interpret the phylogenetic relationships of the taxa and hence their historical biogeography (Howes, 1980, 1984). Gordon examined alizarin/alcian-cleared and stained specimens preserved in glycerine, to study the skeletal anatomy, but also said that he enjoyed handling and examining the dry skulls of specimens because they gave him an understanding of the nuances of the bones' sutures and articulations. He was quick to appreciate the importance of muscles as an underutilized source of characters to define phylogenetic relationships; for him, the morphology of bones, muscles and indeed nerves were all obviously linked, so one had to look at them all together. While most of Gordon's papers were focused on levels above alpha taxonomy, he was quick to spot an interesting species-level question and investigate this where it was appropriate (e.g. his discussion of the only known specimen of Barilius longirostris; Howes, 1991b). As noted above, Gordon was also quick to turn his skills to many other groups besides cyprinids. He wrote several papers on catfishes, including his well-cited discussion of the phylogenetic relationships of electric catfishes (Howes, 1985). In the final part of his career at the Natural History Museum, when researchers were forced to work on groups that were economically important, he started work on gadiforms. He immediately challenged existing ideas on their phylogenetic relationships and biogeography (Howes, 1991c, 1993). One of us (I.H.) was lucky enough to work with Gordon on mugilids (Harrison & Howes, 1991), benefitting enormously from Gordon's expertise, and learning the importance of studying ontogenetic series, muscles and bones, all pivotal parts of good anatomical description. Gordon encouraged these analyses in all PhD students and postdoctoral researchers he knew, with excellent results for their dissertations and subsequent publications. Gordon took the role of mentoring students very seriously. Though many of the PhD students who passed through the Natural History Museum in the 1970s and 1980s were officially supervised by Humphry Greenwood, it was Gordon who sat with them, answered their questions, looked at the specimens with them and helped them develop into professional researchers. Gordon would push students to think carefully about their observations, and to read deeply from the scientific literature, and to ask questions. He taught them to be unafraid of admitting what they did not know, so they could focus on what they needed to learn and research. He did this because that is exactly how he worked. There is an impressive list of systematic ichthyologists who had the good fortune to study at the museum and many of whom owe much of their knowledge, and in some cases their distinguished careers, to Gordon. Notable among them are (with the groups they worked on in their early career association with Gordon): Gordon McGregor Reid (Labeo and African fishes), Melanie Stiassny (cichlids), Lynne Parenti (Cyprinodontiformes), Rich Vari (Characiformes), Rob Travers (Mastacembelidae), Chris Sanford (Salmoniformes) and Tian Pei Mo (Bagridae). Gordon went to great lengths to help visiting scientists at the Natural History Museum. This would include the basic necessity of ensuring that they had somewhere comfortable to stay in London, and making them feel at home in London by taking them out to dinner or for a drink, or inviting them to a meal at his own home. In the museum, he would help them find fishes in the collections; no easy task among the several floors of collection rooms in the old Spirit Building, or in the large, old, Dry Storeroom Number 2 in the main museum building. He was also a capable guide to the various libraries of the museum; he appreciated the enormous importance of the material these libraries housed, and was quick to share his knowledge and to locate reprints among his own, large collection. Gordon also valued the time spent with visitors as this was an opportunity to talk with them about their work, learn new information from them, and share his opinions. Among the range of visitors Gordon worked with, he was influential in training His Imperial Highness Prince Akishino of Japan in fish taxonomy, focusing on catfishes, between 1988 and 1990, and Gordon was subsequently interviewed on Japanese television on the day of the Prince's wedding. It really didn't matter, however, if you were a college intern, a visiting PhD student, an internationally respected expert or an amateur enthusiast, everyone was the same in Gordon's eyes. The most exciting period for Gordon at the Natural History Museum must have been through the mid to late 1970s and into the 1980s. His own research was expanding rapidly, and cladistic methodology was being embraced, at least by some, in ichthyology; Humphry Greenwood and Gordon were among those ichthyologists. Gordon's obituary for Humphry (Howes, 1995) gives a small window into the excitement of those times. Towards the end of 1970s, the Fish Section of the Natural History Museum hit a research peak, attended by some of us (e.g. Melanie Stiassny, Lynne Parenti and Rich Vari) and other exceptionally talented PhD students, postdocs and visitors (e.g. Gordon McGregor Reid, Rob Travers and Paul Skelton). Gordon thrived in this atmosphere of excellence, enthusiasm and shared interest in cladistics. He was impressed by the progressive approaches of many systematic ichthyologists from the U.S.A. in the 1970s and 1980s; these researchers were ready to question the traditional concepts of taxonomy and classification, and break new ground. Equally, he respected the very important research of his European colleagues, which involved the gruelling alpha taxonomic work of examining large numbers of specimens, describing diversity and naming species. He worked especially closely with colleagues in France, Belgium and the Netherlands, such as Frans Witte, Guy Teugels, Jos Snoeks and Martien van Oijen, who were doing some of the essential work on defining the diversity of African freshwater fish species that were of particular interest to Gordon. His close friendship with them lasted well beyond his retirement from the Natural History Museum. Interestingly, even as a museum researcher but certainly after his retirement, Gordon was not a fan of the typological concept of species (i.e. that species are discrete entities defined by a particular morphology represented in a type specimen). In biological terms, he saw this as arbitrarily defining limits on processes that are more dynamic, putting boundaries on ‘taxonomic units’ that change and do not have clearly defined boundaries. Importantly, however, he also saw that we need a system where we all understand that we are talking about the same thing (as best as possible) so, regardless of what is actually happening in the nature, we have to impose a nomenclature for the purpose of communication. One of us (I.H.) recalls watching the ‘sci-fi monster’ movie Tremors with Gordon and Oliver Crimmen from the Natural History Museum, and Gordon took pleasure in a scene where there is a discussion about what the monster should be called; one of the characters saying ‘You're gonna be sorry if you don't give it a name.’ Gordon was amused that they took their nomenclatural responsibility seriously! Gordon was modest discussing his work; his goal was purely to share information so that others could look at it, confirm it or improve upon it to increase overall knowledge. He would be the first to point out where he might have made a mistake, and where others had improved on his work. There were a few aspects of the developing world of systematic ichthyology, however, for which Gordon had less personal interest. He was not a great fan of molecular systematics as a tool by itself, but only because he strongly believed that there is still so much to learn from anatomy, and he felt that molecular systematics was making it harder to state a case for traditional anatomical studies. He retired from systematic ichthyology before computational phylogenetics really took off. His cladograms were hand drawn and, in the words of a colleague, ‘did the job just as well as anything else.’ Gordon's perspective on computation phylogenetics is well captured in a statement that his colleague Colin Patterson made in 1995 (in a different context, but appropriate here): ‘what matters in systematics, or matters most, is looking at and comparing specimens, as carefully and in as much detail as you can, searching for synapomorphies. If you neglect that, your primary duty, and concentrate on what is secondary, manipulating the matrix and drawing conclusions from it, you can get it in a horrible mess’ (Patterson et al., 2011). Indeed, Gordon was interested in observations and interpretation, rather than data matrices. He had an abiding mistrust of the trend towards massive databases that assimilate and repackage information, again, mainly because he felt these drew money and research expertise away from answering new questions. Most of all, he disliked the growing administration and middle management that was developing around science in the late 1980s and early 1990s in the U.K. that made it progressively more difficult to actually do the work that he felt was important at the museum. Unsatisfied with museum management, he decided to take early retirement in 1993, so he could continue to focus his time on activities that inspired him and gave him pleasure. After he left the Natural History Museum, he moved to Polegate, Sussex, England, where one could hardly call him ‘retired’ because he remained so active. He spent more time painting; his artwork, both before and after retirement featured fishes and underwater scenes as a common topic, but he also painted terrestrial wildlife and landscapes from countries he visited. Landscapes of the U.S.A., especially from the desert south-west for which he had a great affection, were also favourite subjects. His retirement gave him more opportunity for preparing paintings for exhibitions. His first solo exhibition had been before his retirement, in Geneva in 1994, and he went on to exhibit in London and Johannesburg, and locally in southern England. Soon after retiring from the Natural History Museum, he had a successful exhibit of paintings, FISH WORLDS, at the University of Surrey. His paintings are held in private collections both within the U.K. and abroad, particularly in the U.S.A., the Netherlands and South Africa. Gordon did not leave the museum community on his retirement. He remained in regular contact with his ichthyologist friends and colleagues, and a close friend of many of his colleagues from the Natural History Museum (notably Bernice Brewster whom he had mentored in management of the museum's fish collection). He had worked closely with one of us (R.M.) while both were at the Natural History Museum, reviewing drafts of her books on fish ecology and contributing illustrations (Lowe-McConnell, 1987; McConnell, 2000); and in their retirement Gordon helped R.M. arrange her library. He joined many of their mutual colleagues in celebration of R.M.'s 90th birthday, not long before he died. Gordon shunned e-mail as a means of correspondence; he valued personal contact and would rather write a letter, using pen and paper, or use the phone. (Despite the previously noted irritation with phone calls, he would be just as ready to stop whatever he was doing and engage in a long and enjoyable telephone conversation with colleagues!) Gordon also kept a close watch on scientific publications, writing to authors to discuss points further and circulating information to his colleagues. At the 2013 Annual Meeting of the American Society of Ichthyologists and Herpetologists (ASIH) in Albuquerque, New Mexico, two of us (L.S. and M.S.) organized a small dinner to informally remember and celebrate Gordon's contribution to ichthyology and the development of so many careers. The next day (14 July 2013) at the ASIH meeting a resolution was passed in recognition of Gordon, stating: ‘his contributions to our understanding of the comparative anatomy and phylogeny of numerous groups of fishes was foundational, and his service to countless researchers who passed through the BMNH's fish section was tireless’ and that ‘he was also tireless in his mentorship, support and encouragement to generations of students from around the globe’ (M. Donnelly, personal communication). This would have delighted Gordon. He was a huge fan of the ASIH meetings, as a focus for promoting students in the field of ichthyology, and the integration of fresh discussion on the science. In addition, the location for passing this resolution was perfect; Gordon loved the south-western U.S.A., as noted above. As well as keeping his ichthyology links in his retirement, Gordon shifted his base from the Natural History Museum to the main site of the British Museum at Russell Square, where he spent 17 years as a volunteer guide and speaker, with expertise in Middle Eastern, Central American and African archaeology, and the Enlightenment. He threw himself into these subjects whole-heartedly, undertaking considerable background reading on the subjects so that he could discuss them appropriately (Howes, 2003). Some of us had the opportunity to listen to him speak about these subjects, and join the tours he gave, and they were full of the same infectious enthusiasm for the subject that he had for ichthyology. Gordon contributed his time and zeal to help his colleagues in the British Museum's Volunteer Team, providing advice to new trainees. In 2013, he was posthumously awarded the British Museum's Marsh Volunteer Award for Long-Term Commitment, recognizing and celebrating the efforts of Museum volunteers who have made an important and long-lasting contribution of time, expertise and enthusiasm to help the Museum enrich the experiences of its millions of visitors (Marsh Christian Trust, 2013). Gordon would have been deeply flattered and honoured to have received this in person. Gordon's curiosity and quest for knowledge was boundless, and he loved to share it. He was devoted to ichthyology, and yet he never let it dominate his life. So much more in life was so very important to him. He loved art, as an artist himself, and had a passion for photography. When travelling with friends he would frequently ask to stop to take a photo. He would use these photos (or sketches that he might make) to compose his paintings. Gordon equally immersed himself in literature (an avid reader of fiction as well as non-fiction), films of a wide spectrum of genres, and especially music, which was invariably playing on a radio or cassette player somewhere in his home or office. He once said that he could not understand anyone without a love of music. He was catholic in his musical tastes (up to a point, see below), but particularly liked classical music, and had an expansive knowledge of many composers. He had a fondness for compositions that describe landscapes, and people in landscapes: Respighi, Copland, Dvořák and Vaughan Williams. He had a special love for Vaughan Williams' piece ‘The Lark Ascending’, because it captures so well the peace and depth of the British pastoral landscape which he loved so deeply. This is why he chose to spend his retirement living close to the country and walking through it with his closest friends whenever he could. Gordon was a great man, he quietly, but so very meaningfully touched the lives of many people who he met or with whom he corresponded, from all parts of the world. He was truly joyous company, at the best and worst of times. On one occasion, one of us (C.S.) was driving with Gordon in the Pinto Mountains in the south-western U.S.A. and became hopelessly lost in a rented car. This was in the days before GPS and cell phones. Chris and Gordon were stuck on the edge of a mountain, the road ahead was impassable, there was absolutely no sign of any civilization, and they were running out of petrol. Chris stepped out of the car, looked over the side of the mountain trying to figure out how to get out of the looming disaster. Then Gordon (true to form) yelled enthusiastically ‘Hey I found some music on the radio … but it's crap!’ Gordon had a wonderfully wicked sense of humour, which he was ready to direct at himself as much as anyone else. One of us (M.E.), a fellow artist and one of Gordon's closest friends, knowing Gordon for 48 years, shared the following story at Gordon's funeral: ‘On one occasion (Gordon and I) visited an exhibition of contemporary art which so enraged him that he wrote the most viciously scathing, unrepeatable rude comments in the visitor's book. He signed it ‘Malcolm Evans’… I have never been invited to that gallery since.’ Gordon's life was full, enthused, and he was deeply content with what he made of it and the people he shared it with. One of us (M.E.) was with him in his last hours in hospital; Gordon was peaceful in that time and in his last minutes as he drifted into semi-consciousness, unaware of where he was, he asked Malcolm ‘Have you turned off the microscopes?’ and asked ‘Has everybody gone home?’ Those words say so much about what stayed important to Gordon through his life; as he passed, his thoughts were back in the museum and he was mentally putting things in order, meticulous to the very last. As one of us (M.E.) said when he posthumously accepted the Marsh Award for Gordon at the British Museum (see above), Gordon was ‘a scientist, an artist and a polymath but beyond that he was kind and giving. The world is a better place because of him.’ We'll miss him terribly, as will so many of his friends and colleagues fully around the world, and will think of him frequently, but each time we do the memories are great ones of esteem and affection.