Sunday, April 8, 2018

Tree responsibly: Part 2

In part 2 of this series, I want to talk about how we can draw trees that promote tree thinking instead of undermining it. But first let’s consider whether we can or should worm our way out of this possibly time-consuming task. You might say, well, I just draw the trees – it’s the viewer’s job to interpret them correctly.* However, it is well established that the many members of any audience (whether students or practicing scientists) are not trained in tree-thinking and will come to incorrect conclusions about what a tree is meant to convey. 

The other option is to warn the audience that the way the tree is drawn is likely to evoke some misconceptions. Indeed, this is essentially the approach taken on the evogeneao website, which has an interactive tree of life and other teaching resources. This page has a long section about distortions and limitations that explains that their tree is drawn to tell the human’s story and thus makes it look like evolution is goal-oriented (with the goal being humans). I'm glad they included this section and it may provide its own learning goal (leading the reader to say, how does this tree make me think that? How could it be drawn not to make me think that?). But I remain nervous that readers won’t scroll and dig into what may be viewed as details, details. So my opinion is that if we want readers to interpret trees correctly, we should actually draw them in ways that dispel misconceptions and encourage correct interpretation.  Here are some of my suggestions and related thoughts:

First, those of us that spend a lot of time wandering the phylogenetics literature know that trees more often look like what’s on the left than what’s on the right.

Tree on the left adapted from here.  

And what’s on the right looks a lot more like what’s in textbooks, review articles, and popular science.  So guess what’s in the middle?  People making choices about which taxa to show, how to draw the tree, and what story they want to tell with the tree.  Given that, let’s talk choices.

Ladder-y versus ultrametric

Both of the trees above have the same topology (implying the same set of relationships), but the one on the left is much more likely to trigger ladder-thinking because some of the tips are higher and others are lower.  The easy fix is to make the tree ultrametric, as on the right, helping to communicate that all taxa are extant (as they are in this pretend example) and that all have continued to evolve towards the present. 

We also choose which taxa to include, and by simply choosing those which make our trees a little more balanced, we can make it harder to view any tip as ‘basal’. Berkeley's Understanding Evolution site has a quite a few other nice tips for making trees that are less prone to misinterpretation.

Maximally unbalanced versus more balanced (oh and I rotated it at one node)

So now a suggestion that is possibly more painful, which is that those of us that estimate phylogenies take on more of the burden of creating education-friendly, misconception-fighting, biology-celebrating tree diagrams. Work on flatworms? Awesome! Make a lively worm-y phylogeny for your homepage that can be freely downloaded and shared. Put it on your lab t-shirt! Put it in the corner of your lab posters! Take it to outreach events! I know that most of us phylogeneticists are not graphic designers, but I think the dividends to come from one glorious, engaging figure are worth the time (and/or monetary investment). And we have such a long way to go to outnumber the 'march of progress' type images that dominate the representation of evolution.

And my last thought is just that I wish that some kind programmer would make a truly easy piece of software to draw trees for educational purposes. Because if you are wondering what I do to make tree figures for teaching (and blogging), I create a pretend dataset in Mesquite and manipulate the tree to fit my purposes. Which sometimes require tinkering in Illustrator. Most teachers don’t have the time to learn Mesquite solely for this purpose, much less the funding for Illustrator licenses. Please feel free to reply to this blog if there are programs you think meet this need.**

In closing, thanks (I guess) to Matt Hahn for trolling me with tree figures to provoke me into writing about this.


*And a few years ago that was more or less my view. We can’t ‘protect’ everyone from seeing trees that foster misconceptions, so it’s better that we teach them how to read trees. We certainly do need to do the latter, but it’s not enough. People who are experts in this area also think so.

**I am aware of FigTree and TreeEdit, but I still think these are probably too fiddly as they require a user to start with a tree file. I’m picturing more like the user says, "I need X tips" and then they move the branches, annotate branches with words, change formats, etc. Mesquite can do most of theses things, but having taught with it, I don’t think it’s reasonable to expect a teacher to wander through the menus just to make a vertebrate phylogeny that’s less ladder-y than what is in the textbook. I also don't think it would be fair to put all the burden on Mesquite, which already serves many needs in the systematics community and does so beautifully. Maybe someone who is good at Java could make a MesquiteLite to pull out and adapt the drawing tools. Even better if it could be an interactive website that students could use! But I'm getting ahead of myself...

Tree responsibly: Part 1

A few years ago I was at a talk that opened with an evolutionary context for the study and had a tree that looked about like this:

I thought ruh-roh, I feel some basal-ancient-ladderness coming on.  And sure enough it was primitive [living] taxa from there on out. This got me thinking about the relationship between tree drawing and tree thinking. This relationship is well established in the science education literature, which has demonstrated that certain tree formats are more likely to trigger misconceptions about evolution (e.g., Novick et al. 2011). Viewers are likely to see the tips that are literally 'lower' on a tree like the one above as being evolutionarily lower*.  Moreover, they are likely to interpret this diagram not as a branching history but as a replacement series with a progressive evolutionary story.  Heck, it is almost begging readers to view evolution as a timeline. If you let it keep slipping, that’s right where you end up.

Going, going, gone.

It is then a very short hop for viewers to interpret that ‘tree’ as something like this.

As I have argued before, this terrible depiction of evolution and its many off-shoots (like this) are not only misleading but downright dangerous. Not to beat a dead horse, but none of the other extant apes (e.g., gorillas, chimps, bonobos) are our ancestors, as implied by this figure (see this great blog by Fabio Mendes for a more complete discussion). In fact, we can’t even be very sure which of the many extinct hominins actually sits on the lineage that gave rise to Homo sapiens (i.e., actually could be correctly referred to as an ancestor).

In exploring the relationship between tree diagrams and tree-thinking in science ed research, there has been a strong emphasis on diagonal trees versus rectangular trees, which often go by “tree” and “ladder” format, respectively. I prefer to stick with diagonal (as in the top diagram) and rectangular (below), because let’s be honest, a rectangular tree can be made to look just as ladder-y as a diagonal tree.

                                                       My Ladder-y Rectangular Tree

What is scary to me is the ladder-y trees seems to be exploding, faster than stick-in-the-muds like me can complain about how they trigger evolutionary misconceptions and make the jobs of evolutionary biologists even harder. Worse yet, these ladder-y trees are often presented the context of trying to expand access to information about phylogenies and evolution. I won’t enumerate them here, but let’s just say that I’ve got sort of a mental burn-book of phylogeny figures that fall in this more-harm-than-good zone**. In part II of this blog entry, I’ll talk about how I think we can improve the state of affairs.

*This is not a thing. Calling a group of organisms 'lower' is just as nails-on-a-chalkboard to me as basal.

*(I realize that I'm making tons of weird hyphenated adjectives today.  That's why it's just a blog.

Monday, July 3, 2017

Moving the needle

[Note, this post is not about phylogenies]

I’ve sensed some ‘what’s-the-big-deal’-ness in response to recent discussion about inappropriate behavior at the recent Evolution meetings, so I want to explain why I take this so seriously. I think you should care too, assuming you are interested in making science more diverse and inclusive.  I’ll speak from my own experience here, making this a perhaps uncommonly personal post.  First, I should say that I have been lucky throughout my career to have exceptional mentors (both men and women) who strongly encouraged my interest in science and always made me feel supported.  But early on, it became apparent to me (and my female peers) that being a woman in science was going to present extra challenges. None of my experiences are unique and I have colleagues who had a much harder time*. One thing it seems like we all discovered was the amount of caution that was needed in interacting with male scientists, especially senior ones.  Being friendly was sometimes taken as openness to flirtation, which could escalate to unwanted touching or worse. So as young woman in science, I learned how to tread carefully and how to be friendly but divert conversations when there were red flags. I learned what the flags are (“looks like you’ve been working out!” or “why is someone like you single?”**). I learned to avoid places and situations where inappropriate behavior is likely to happen, even if it meant sometimes missing out on networking***, and I found friends with whom I could safely discuss these issues. Friends who understood that it’s not as simple as ‘not putting up’ with bad behavior, especially from senior scientists in a community that is so tightly woven through letters of recommendation, reviews, grant panels, and committees.

For me, these social acrobatics became part of the fabric of interacting with other scientists. Another skill like presenting posters, or making aesthetically appealing slides.  It wasn’t until a few years ago that I realized how much mental and emotional energy I wasted on these acrobatics as a younger scientist. Energy that I could have devoted to science or something else! Energy that some of my peers never had to spend****. Now that I am a faculty member, inappropriate behavior towards me has become less common, but I worry for my students and other young scientists. I wish I could prevent unprofessional behavior from clouding their experiences. I wish I could save them from the wasted energy of handling those who behave inappropriately. I wish I could keep them from ever having to become social acrobats themselves. They shouldn’t have to. But it doesn’t seem like things have changed that much in the 16 years I’ve been in this field. For my mentees, I try to prepare them, let them know that I know it happens, welcome them to come talk with me about their concerns, and ask them to brainstorm with me on how to make things better.  With regard to the Evolution meetings, the Society for Systematic Biology has called for suggestions. I’m hoping that together we’ll come up with ideas that could actually move the needle.

*To get a sense, peruse the nearly 900 responses to Gina Baucom’s post about crappy things said to or about women in academia.

**I know that these may seem incredibly obvious but when it’s someone senior, someone you respect, and someone that you would never imagine would hit on you, it takes a while (at least for me) to realize what it is.  I have learned now to look past rank and listen to my gut.

***If we want access to science for everyone, no one should have to make these choices.

****These are my experiences but I imagine the same goes for other underrepresented groups in STEM.

Monday, May 15, 2017

Back to the future

One of the most pervasive carryovers from ladder-of-life thinking is that some living species are older than others.  These are often thought of as sitting on the lower rungs of the ladder.  Of course, tree-thinking rejects this notion as all living species have evolved the same amount of time from their shared common ancestor at the base.  Nonetheless I hear so many phrases that reflect the continuing influence of ladder-thinking, even among evolutionary biologists.  So here's a good one - 'That trait goes all the way back to echinoderms' [or insert any taxon perceived to be old]. The speaker almost certainly wanted to communicate that the trait was present in the common ancestor of echinoderms and vertebrates.  So what's the problem with using the shorthand 'back to echinoderms'?  Well, it suggests that an echinoderm was the common ancestor of echinoderms and vertebrates (not true even if that ancestor *looked* more like an echinoderm) and/or that echinoderms haven't been evolving since their split with other deuterostomes.  This is particularly dangerous as it often leads to poor experimental design --  using living species perceived to be old or primitive as stand-ins for ancestors.  Certainly studying echinoderms can help us make inferences about that common ancestor, but so would studying any other descendant.

So in summary:

p.s.  I think it would be a little better to say 'out to echinoderms' -- if your listener assumes humans are starting point, then going 'out' to echinoderms spans the clade that captures both humans and echinoderms, which maps to a particular ancestral node.  But why not just use a couple more words and say the trait was present in the common ancestor of deuterostomes.

Sunday, May 7, 2017

Naming nodes

A friend texted me today to share a ‘crazy’ biology fact – that ‘a slug is not a critter but a fungus’.  Of course, I had to protest immediately.  A slug is not a fungus, it is a mollusk! (Which I guess would colloquially be a critter?)  This interchange made me think about how that kind of statement translates for an evolutionary biologist.  When we say, a [species] is a [taxonomic group], we are saying, that species belongs to a clade, a branch of the tree of life, that we have given a name.  So it’s really a statement about evolutionary history.  A slug does not belong to the clade that we call fungi.  A slug is in the mollusk clade, which is a branch of lophotrochozoans, which is a branch of animals, which is a branch of eukaryotes, etc.  So a slug *is* all of those. The limit on the number of these statements is only the number of nodes (and corresponding clades) which we have assigned names.  Since all species share common ancestors back in time, at some point, the slug’s history will intersect with the fungus; that is, we will eventually arrive at a node which sits along both of their evolutionary histories.  Currently, this node is the opisthokonts, whose descendants are eukaryotes with a single posterior flagellum.  Naming these nodes give us a handy way to remember traits that the species belonging to that clade possess (although some may have subsequently lost those synapomorphies).  So then you might wonder, how do we decide which nodes to name?  Anyone who publishes a phylogeny is free to name any node they wish, although typically only nodes that are well-supported by various sources of evidence would be named.  Among those with good support, authors often pick those that correspond to some previously named group (like a genus) in order to carry that information (whatever characteristics originally resulted in the group's description as a separate genus). Many nodes however don’t contain members that had a traditional name (pre-phylogenetics), but nonetheless correspond to a group with some distinctive features, like the Opisthokonts.  Thus, taxonomy and classification return to the same principles that have long guided the field – that names function to convey information about organisms – about their evolutionary history (their relatedness to other organisms) and their traits.  In this sense, naming is a choice -- about which information we think is interesting or important to communicate. I always think if bacteria were doing the taxonomy instead of humans we would have many fewer named nodes within the animal clade and many more along branches in their part of the tree.

P.S. The title 'naming nodes' will only be entertaining to those of you who are also fans of Best in Show.  Taxonomy is a far more valuable endeavor than naming nuts, but certainly less funny.

Friday, December 2, 2016

The phylogenetics of equality

In previous articles (here and here*), I have argued that understanding phylogenetic trees is a core part of understanding evolution, and thus biology as a whole.  My last blogpost emphasized that using terms like basal and early-diverging to refer to taxa misrepresents what phylogenies communicate, and therefore leads to misunderstanding about how evolution works. I would guess that at least some readers thought, "Well is that so bad?  So what if I casually talk about a group of species as basal, and some in the audience incorrectly take this to mean less evolved? I just mean to say that they have retained some ancestral character states that I am interested in, and saying 'basal' as a shorthand is convenient."

Here I'd like to stress that contributing to ladder-of-life thinking** with sloppy tree-speaking has real tangible consequences, that we should take seriously, not just as biologists, but as citizens. Today Dan Lowe, friend in political philosophy sent me this article, written by a group of political scientists. They conducted a survey in which they asked 2000 participants (who were all white) to rank how 'evolved' they believe blacks and whites to be using a 0-100 scale placed below a popular depiction of the "ascent of man", an image which undoubtedly stirs up ladder-of-life thinking.***

Thirty-eight percent of the respondents rated blacks less evolved, with rationales including being more 'closer to' or 'like animals'.  The researchers report being surprised by these results, but I am not at all surprised.  Not just because we know that racism is prevalent in our country, but also because the public understanding of evolution, and particularly common ancestry, is depressingly low. 

Anyone who has been taught evolution (including tree thinking) should protest, no humans could ever be considered less 'evolved' than any other! All humans are more closely related to each other than to any other species, so none of us is 'closer to animals'! Anyway, all of us are animals. We belong to a branch of the tree that we call animals, and we are all equally related to other animals. Moreover, it is meaningless and biologically incorrect to consider any group of living organisms primitive or 'less evolved'. The real danger of any suggestion otherwise is that there is some biological or evolutionary rationale for racism.  We must be emphatic that there is not. 

Right now, many of us are thinking, what can we do to celebrate diversity and support inclusiveness? Here's one thing.  We can teach evolutionary biology and teach it well.  We can make a point to state that humans are part of evolutionary history just like everything else on the planet and the same principles that apply to other living organisms apply to us, too.  Just as we, as humans, are not more 'evolved' than a fern, none of the populations of humans are any more evolved than any other.

p.s. Thanks to Scott Taylor for comments.

p.p.s. Hateful comments in response to this post will be deleted.

*full text versions available from my website

**ladder-of-life thinking = thinking that promotes the idea that some species are more primitive (less 'evolved') than others; is associated with the ladder-of-life or the great chain of being (scala naturae), in which species are ranked from least to most evolved.  The ladder-of-life is not consistent with the tree-like structure of evolution. Although it has been rejected since Darwin, the vestiges of progressive thinking remain and are the source of many misconceptions regarding phylogenies. 

***I think I am going to have to write a post just about this depiction, and probably I'll make a new version, with a tree and all rotated around, that would have the opposite effect, i.e. stimulate tree-thinking instead of ladder-thinking. 

Monday, September 19, 2016

The ancestors are not among us

>>Terms like 'basal', 'early-diverging', and 'first-branching' reflect persistent misconceptions about evolution and phylogenies

Why take the time to blog about the issues with the use of the word "basal" and similar terms?

This a good question because, indeed, many tree-thinking papers have directly discussed misconceptions related to interpreting phylogenies (e.g., Omland et al. and Meir et al.).  In fact, several have tackled issues surrounding the term "basal" specifically (see Krell and Cranston and Crisp and Cook). Given these efforts, I hoped that the use of this term (and the associated misconceptions) would begin to erode.  Unfortunately I feel as though, if anything, the problem is becoming more widespread.  I think this is largely for several good reasons -- building phylogenies is continually becoming easier, even for large datasets, and many researchers from a range of fields are seeking to incorporate an evolutionary perspective into their research.  However, it's important to point out that the misinterpretation of phylogenies is just as common in evolutionary biology as in any other field.  So in short, the “basal” problem is not going to disappear without active efforts to teach tree-thinking to all biologists at all stages.

So what is the problem with 'basal', exactly?

The problem is that the term is used incorrectly and/or in misleading ways in talks, papers, and proposals, roughly 90% of the time (by my estimate).  Moreover, the use of basal and similar terms perpetuates a large suite of misconceptions about how evolution works.  So in order to communicate effectively and accurately about evolution, we must also communicate effectively and accurately about trees.  As I have struggled to understand the desire to describe some taxa as basal (or early-diverging or early-branching), I've assembled a mental list of the various ideas that speakers and writers seem to be aiming to communicate with the use of these terms.  I've listed these below along with comments about relevant misconceptions.  This list overlaps with what has been described in the publications listed above.

1) A basal species is one that has given rise to another species, i.e. some ancestral lineage. 

I think this use of the term is related to the misconception that some living taxa are the ancestors of other living taxa.  Unless something has changed with respect to the space-time continuum, this is not possible.  The ancestors are lineages that are no longer present -- they are represented in the tree as internal nodes and internal branches.

2) A basal taxon is one that is older than other taxa in the tree.

If all of the taxa at the tips are extant (i.e., not extinct), then all of them are the same age.  They all have the same root-to-tip distance in terms of time. In other words, they have all evolved the same amount of time from the base of the tree. (Note that this is a correct use of base -- the base is the earliest part of the tree, the root, and time proceeds forward from that point.)  It is worth noting that in molecular phylogenies, some tips may be longer or shorter (i.e., the tree may not be ultrametric).  This is due to a combination of stochasticity in the substitution process as well as differences in substitution rates across lineages. However, we would not say that the taxa on longer branches are "more evolved" than the other taxa on the tree.

3) A basal taxon is primitive morphologically or in some other sense.

All species, extant or extinct, possess a mixture of characteristics that are, in cladistic terminology, ancestral (plesiomorphic) or derived (apomorphic) relative to other species.  For example, in reptiles having scales and four limbs is the ancestral state. Snakes have retained the ancestral state of having scales but have the derived state of no limbs.  This highlights the fact that no species can be accurately described in evolutionary terms as 'primitive', 'ancestral', 'lower', or 'basal' any more than they can be described as 'derived', 'advanced', or 'higher'. In this sense, the tree-thinking view of species diversity is rather egalitarian.  All of the species on earth have evolved the same amount of time from the last common ancestor of all life some 3 to 4 billion years ago, and their diverse forms reflect the accumulation of changes during their unique pathways along the tree to the present. It's worth noting that this misconception (that not all species are equally 'evolved', or equally 'advanced') has been linked to the history of progressive ideas in evolution, and specifically, the notion that humans sit at the apex of a ladder of life. This is exactly why terms like basal are more than just poor wording; they perpetuate the incorrect interpretation of phylogenies as ladders of progress. We can't expect to improve understanding of the tree-like nature of evolution while continuing to use misleading terminology.

4) Basal lineages sit at the base of the tree or at the bottom of the tree diagram.

The observation that certain lineages are near the bottom of a tree does not reflect any aspect of evolutionary history; it is simply a reflection of the choices made in drawing the tree. These choices are generally guided by aesthetic and didactic motivations.  That is, the tree is drawn to best communicate the results of the phylogenetic analysis in a visually appealing way. The root could be towards the top or towards the bottom, and the authors can rotate trees at nodes and bend branches.  None of these drawing choices alters the relationships depicted in the tree.  Thus, the two trees below communicate the same phylogenetic information (e.g., lizards are more closely related to humans that to frogs), despite the fact that the nodes have been rotated.  This exercise makes it apparent why you cannot learn interpret a phylogeny from the order of the tips, only from the order of the nodes.  For more practice in reading trees without being distracted by tip order or tree format, look here and here.

You may be wondering, so if the order across the tips can be rotated without changing the tree, how do authors choose among possible rotated versions? Since we read from left to right, it is common to show the 'focal' taxon toward the right and if humans are in the tree, we are almost always put in that prime position! Just take a look at most biology textbook depictions of primate phylogeny, like this one.

Some of these drawing choices may also not be apparent to novice users of phylogenetics software. Most inference software and tree drawing programs will automatically 'ladderize' trees, which places the sparsely sampled outgroups on the left of an upright tree as above or on the top or bottom of a horizontal tree.  Thus, the order of the tips that a program produces is drawing convention and never the outcome of an analysis (e.g., you could never say that 'the maximum likelihood analysis placed lemurs at the base of the primate phylogeny').

So what should I say, if not basal?

I realize that this whole post may be a big bummer.  Especially if what you wanted from a phylogeny was to learn which species were ancestral or which diverged first (reminder, neither are possible or realistic, see above and below). Once you have reconciled yourself with the fact that the ancestors are not among us, here are some 100% not-confusing, evolutionarily-consistent, and still interesting things you can say about a tree like the Platanthera orchid phylogeny below from this review paper.

  • The ancestors of extant Platanthera had nocturnally pollinated flowers. [Not, e.g., 'Nocturnally pollinated Platanthera are ancestral.'  Because this could connote that some living Platanthera are ancestors of others.  See space-time-continuum above]
  • Diurnal pollination has arisen multiple times in Platanthera. [Not, e.g., 'Diurnally pollinated Platanhera are evolutionarily derived.' Because character states can be derived but taxa cannot be]
  • The sonoharae-fuscescens-ussuriensis-japonica clade is sister to the rest of the genus Platanthera. [Not, e.g., 'The sonoharae-fuscescens-ussuriensis-japonica clade is basal to the rest of Platanthera.' or 'The sonoharae-fuscescens-ussuriensis-japonica group is an early diverging clade of Platanthera.'  More on early-diverging below]
  • The evolution of white flowers evolved after the transition to diurnal pollination in the clades that includes. P.  blephariglottis and P. nivea.
  • The basal nodes of the tree are reconstructed as nocturnally pollinated. [It is fine to describe the earliest nodes in the tree as basal because they did in fact occur earlier than the nodes towards the tips.  Although personally, I prefer 'deeper' nodes.] 

Notice that in this list, I use basal to refer to nodes, sisters to refer to taxa, and ancestral/derived to refer to characters.  My intuition is that many who use basal to refer to taxa are actually most interested in characters (what did the ancestor look like, not who was it exactly).  So if this is the case, talk about the characters! This is a good strategy for avoiding tree mis-speak.

How about calling some taxa 'early-diverging' or 'first-branching' instead of 'basal' or 'lower'?  Doesn't this do the trick?

In short, no. These terms are equally uninformative, and since many listeners will equate them with basal, equally misleading.  I'll walk through an example that may help to reveal why early-diverging is not meaningful.

Let's first consider a very simple tree with just two tips.

We would look at this tree and say there are two tips that have diverged from a common ancestor and have evolved for the same period of time since that split.  We can add another taxon to this tree.

It is still true in this tree that the turtle and the human have evolved the same amount of time since the earliest node in the tree.  And so has the bird, remembering that its ancestry includes the branch shared with the turtle.  Looking at this sort of topology, there is a tendency to call the branch labeled human as 'early diverging', but of course the bird-turtle branch diverged at the same moment.  Thus, this term seems to instead to be applied to whichever branch has given rise to fewer descendants given the taxon sampling. Taxon sampling, like tree drawing, is a choice, and I could instead have chosen a different set of three taxa, e.g.,

Calling the turtle an early-diverging amniote based on this tree is just as odd as calling the human an early-diverging amniote based on the previous tree.  Even if we had all of the amniotes sampled in this tree, one of the two branches arising from the root node would be less speciose than the other. Tree drawing software will typically ladderize the tree and thus would place the less speciose clade at the bottom of the figure.  This placement does not making it earlier-diverging -- just as with any pair of sister taxa, the two descendent branches emerged from the node at the same time and have evolved for the same time to reach the present. This is not affected by how many times those branches have split.

I have also seen a tendency for some to say, well, what I mean by early-diverging or basal is indeed species-poor sister group, so as long as that's clear to the audience, I will continue to use this term.  My first response is that pointing out that one group is species-poor is not an interesting observation by itself.  All real trees are unbalanced and one of the two branches descending from the root will almost always have more descendants. Second, I think this choice of wording is simply too dangerous.  Using terms like basal and early-diverging carry strong connotations, and most audiences will assume taxa carrying this label have retained more primitive characters or will fall into one of the many misconceptions listed above. 

Looking forward

So what do I hope to result from this long exposition on tree terminology?  Most of all to have convinced you that it's not about the terms, it's about the ideas.  Evolutionary biologists, me included, spend tremendous energy to learn about the history of life -- when groups diverged from each other, what changes occurred along the different branches, what factors may have caused these changes.  But this effort is wasted if sloppy terminology allows the inferred history to be misconstrued as a ladder of progress, or yet another living fossil. I believe that we don't need such familiar and comfortable storytelling to make evolution interesting or relevant, to our peers or to the general public.  The truth is that all living taxa have traversed fascinating paths to reach the present and all of their stories are worth telling.

**I'd like to acknowledge advice from Emily Sessa, Brian O'Meara, and Eric Schranz on this post, as well as helpful comments from Matt Hahn.