“It belongs in a museum!”: Why museums matter for modern and future biologists.

“It belongs in a museum!” Indiana Jones’ famous declaration may be a cinematic catchphrase and meme, but it also encapsulates an essential truth: museums are unparalleled guardians of our natural and cultural heritage. They preserve snapshots of the past—collections of objects, specimens, and artifacts that connect us to history and to nature’s intricate tapestry. As my supervisor, Dr. Greg Jongsma at the New Brunswick Museum, often says, “Until time machines exist, museums are the best we have to view a snapshot in time.”

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For scientists like me, museums are not just repositories of the past; they are dynamic spaces where discoveries happen every day. Aspects of my PhD research focus on the functional diversity and biogeography of Afrobatrachia, a remarkable group of African frogs. These frogs have evolved a staggering range of adaptations to thrive in diverse environments, and my work aims to understand how their physical traits reflect their ecological roles and diversity across geographic regions.

African frog specimens, such as these Elegant long-fingered frogs (Cardioglossa elegans), are stored across the globe, allowing researchers to build on the efforts of prior scientists, some from hundreds of years ago.

An Elegant long-fingered frog (Cardioglossa elegans) was found near some rapids on the Ngounie tributary, southern Gabon.

To explore these questions, I focus on key traits that offer insights into their functional diversity and distribution. I measure mouth-width and head length as proxies for dietary preferences, as frogs with wider mouths and larger heads may have access to a broader or more specialized diet depending on their habitat. Similarly, I analyze the ratio of tibia, feet, and thigh length to total body length, which provides clues about locomotion. Frogs with proportionally longer legs relative to their bodies are better adapted for jumping, a trait that might influence their ability to exploit different types of terrain. By examining these traits across many species and geographic regions, I can investigate how historical environmental pressures have shaped their evolution and distribution.

Museums play a pivotal role in my research. African frogs are scattered across collections worldwide, often preserved for over a century. These specimens are invaluable for reconstructing historical biogeographic patterns and functional traits, allowing me to connect ecological adaptations to geographic distributions. So far, I’ve measured several hundred frogs, most collected during our recent expedition to Gabon, along with others from the New Brunswick Museum. With its location just two hours from my home, the museum has been an invaluable resource. A collaboration with Mount Allison University (through Dr. Julia Riley’s lab) allowed me to transport hundreds of frogs at a time, enabling me to work more efficiently over the holiday season and avoid several snow storms on the road. 

This summer, I plan to expand my research by visiting several institutions in the United States, including Harvard, the Smithsonian, and the Chicago Field Museum. Each of these museums houses collections critical to my study, containing frogs from regions I may never have the opportunity to visit in person. These specimens will provide additional data to refine my understanding of how Afrobatrachian frogs’ functional traits correspond to their geographic and ecological contexts.

Measuring frogs is meticulous, but pretty chill. Each trait—the breadth of a mouth or the proportion of a leg—adds another layer to the story of how these frogs interact with their environment and adapt to their niches. It’s a quiet, meditative process that contrasts with the dynamic fieldwork of collecting specimens and the hustle of day-to-day life as I prepare for my move to Australia.

Fieldwork is always intense, with few breaks. Biologists try to get as much data as they can when they can. The positive side is that our specimens get distributed amongst several collaborating institutions, in this case, collections in Gabon, Texas, and New Brunswick. Our specimens allow researchers like me to capitalize on the intense and challenging fieldwork long after sampling is completed.

Museums are far more than collections of preserved specimens; they are dynamic hubs of discovery. Without their archives, it would be impossible to reconstruct the evolutionary history and geographic distribution of species. They connect scientists across generations, preserving specimens and data that enable us to unlock the secrets of life’s diversity.

As I examine a frog collected over a century ago or a rare species preserved from a remote rainforest, I feel connected to the researchers who came before me. Their work laid the foundation for mine, and my findings will hopefully contribute to the discoveries of future scientists. Museums don’t just hold the past—they illuminate the future.

So, the next time you visit a museum, take a moment to appreciate the stories held within its walls. They’re not just relics of bygone eras—they’re keys to understanding the world around us and ensuring its survival for generations to come. And while we may dream of time machines, museums remain the closest we have to traveling through time, one preserved frog—or artifact—at a time.