I haven't been following the forum very closely lately (taking my Ph.D. comprehensive exam next week) but I briefly glanced through this one and got drawn into reading the whole thing.
Now It's true that some names have always changed over time but the concept of "a rose by any other name is still a rose" still operated. What's different now is that we are being told by the scientific community to "call some roses, daisies; some daisies, tulips; and some tulips, roses". Forget what they look and smell like, it's the genetics that count.
Ernest Schwiebert in his later writings lamented these changes and refused to use (for purposes of discussion) many of the taxonomic changes occuring. This was because he foresaw they would lead to immense confusion when trying to discuss what we see on the river with each other, and make it practically impossible to correlate our existing body of literature. I think we should follow his lead.
Your point is extremely well-put and you're in the greatest of company with Ernest Schwiebert, but I have to respectfully disagree with both you and Schwiebert on this.
As an ecological researcher-in-training, I am very comfortable with uncertainty, and I highly value honesty about uncertainty. The current taxonomy of the Baetids is clearly a work-in-progress, and that's that. We can wish the classifications from 50 years ago had been right, but they weren't. I can certainly wish they had stopped changing when I created this site's database 5 years ago, but that won't happen, either. We're stuck with uncertainty for the time being.
We could wish that the
goal of aquatic insect taxonomy were to create sensible groups of critters for anglers, in contrast to the taxonomy of all other living things. That would be selfish and unreasonable, though, and what would it accomplish? We have to keep in mind
why we're interested in scientific classifications in the first place. Why aren't they all just BWOs or "little brown fuzzy things 'round size 18?" You've answered that admirably yourself:
Knowing its nymphal or adult appearance by identifying its opposite in hand, knowing the habitat it prefers in it's mysterious aquatic world, how it behaves, how, when, and where it will emerge, and finally its method of ovipositing all add immeasurably to the pleasure I find in this most fascinating of sports.
We're able to do these things with species we know because they're all at the same twig-tip of the evolutionary tree. There's variability in some of those characteristics within species, and there's plenty of similarity among different species as well. However, sometimes knowing the species name of something really does let us link it to useful external knowledge of its life history and behavior. When that works, it works
because science has so carefully delineated taxa based on their evolutionary relatedness. Scientific rigor is the reason why, for example, that
Ephemerealla dorothea hatch you're fishing is the same type of bug that was floating by Schwiebert when he described a
dorothea hatch 50 years ago. The same might not be said of a "sulphur" hatch matching a sulphur hatch you read about in a John Gierach book. (I made these examples up.)
If we turn around and complain about that scientific rigor when it becomes inconvenient for us, then we're complaining about the very thing that gives value to the system we're trying to preserve in the first place. If taxonomists do not doggedly pursue the truth about the relatedness of species, then what they produce is not much more than a glorified, Latinized set of common names.
Back to the question of science: Keep in mind that much if not most of this generic shuffling is not settled science anyway. Many experts disagree with some of the conclusions drawn by these genetic "discoveries". Much of it suffers from seriously inadequate peer review because there's only so much money to run genetic tests on non-pest insects. Also keep in mind that doctorates and later accolades (grants) aren't handed out for simply mastering what's gone before. Academics are under intense pressure to contribute something unique to their respective fields of study. There are also many academics with axes to grind.
I wouldn't be quite so pessimistic about the motives for these recent changes, although I'm sure there's
some of that stuff going on. Mostly it's just that a new technology is shining a light on some difficult questions that were previously resolved with some tentative, inconsistent answers. The results are still shaky, but probably less so than before, and they will continue to be shaky for a long time because there are too many bugs and too few entomologists to figure it all out anytime soon. It doesn't mean these guys are doing a bad job, only that their job is hard. They also aren't pursuing the avant garde; they're pursuing the same thing (evolutionary relatedness) that they were before, but with tools that are better for that task and unfortunately less convenient for hobbyists to mimic. In the majority of cases their revised classifications are probably better than what we had before, even though they may not yet be perfect and will require still more corrections.
If we want to be scientifically attuned anglers, we can't just pick a snapshot of past scientific results and run with it indefinitely. We can stay up-to-date, or we can use common names and just go fishing, or we can even personally choose to use old scientific names at times with the disclaimer that we know we're doing it. But what we should not do is belittle or reject the new changes because of convenience or communication concerns.
Are you sure you wouldn't like to know whether that gray winged, brown bodied fly you're trying to imitate is a Cinygmula, Ephemerella, or Baetis? Since they have entirely different morphology and behavior in the nymphal/emerger stages and require different flies and presentations to be successful, you might find that helpful to know.
Fortunately the new changes aren't radical enough to affect our ability to do this. Most life-history differences that matter for fishing are distinguished at a high enough taxonomic level that they're immune from the species or even genus-level tinkering. There are exceptions, but they're few and far between and probably won't even practically affect us diehard bug geeks.
He put the suggested revisions in parenthesis following and adjacent to the standardized names in the headings; thus to satisfy the need for conformity with current scientific leanings.
That's similar to my policy for this site. I want to keep it as current as I can taxonomically, but build in references to well-known former names to combat confusion.
For those of you growing weary of my ramblings, I promise to say no more on this topic.
I second OldRedBarn here -- never feel like you have to limit your comments!
Another pet peeve: Isn't taxonomy concerned with classification while entomology is concerned with biology?
By biology (entomology), I meant what the creature does, where it lives, how it moves, etc. As opposed to what it is looks like compared to other organisms (taxonomy, morphology).
I am probably guilty of the interchangeable use of these terms. It may not be completely technically accurate, but is there ever any doubt as to the meaning? The things you call "biology" could also be broken down into other sub-fields like behavioral ecology. I find the classification of these endeavors to be a lot less useful than the classification of organisms.
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Unrelated fun fact: I felt the strongest earthquake I've ever felt while writing this post just now. It was still not strong enough to damage or knock anything over, but the house was certainly vibrating for about 30 seconds, rhythmically, as if being sat on by a giant dog scratching madly at a flea. Looks like
a magnitude 5.3 centered 128 miles southwest of here.