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What are the differences between being a professor at a primarily undergraduate institution versus a highly research-intensive institution?

10/26/2025

There is a paradox for people seeking a job as a faculty in a college or university, which is that everybody, by definition, has completed a PhD at a high-research university. However, many of the faculty positions that are available are at both private and public institutions without a PhD program. I checked the eco evo jobs spreadsheet at the time of this post, and about half of the positions in the US and Canada were at schools without a PhD program. I also think many faculty job-seekers have preconceptions about the differences between the institutions that are worth examining. I was faculty at a primarily undergraduate institution (PUI), and I am now faculty at a public university with very high research activity (classified as an R1 institution by the Carnegie Foundation), and so I have the somewhat unique experiences of having taught and conducted research at both types of institutions.

  My first faculty position was a Georgia Southern University, which is a regional public institution with many Master’s programs, a very few doctoral programs (none in any of the sciences at the time), and lots of undergraduate students. At the time, Georgia Southern was a primarily undergraduate institution, with substantial teaching loads (I taught three classes a semester). My startup funds were generous for the type of institution, but much more limited than for a big research university- I had plenty of money to buy equipment and conduct research, but I couldn’t support a laboratory manager for long or a postdoctoral researcher. Expectations for tenure were matched to the teaching load and research support- I was supposed to publish every year, publish work from research at GSU, and apply for substantial funding.

  My current position is at Florida International University, which is a giant (nearly 60K students!), very high research, and public institution in Miami Florida. FIU has lots of doctoral programs, a medical school, and our teaching load is correspondingly modest (I teach one to two courses per semester). My startup funds were low for a big research institution, but still enough to pay for a postdoc and some graduate student support. Expectations for tenure were publishing regularly and bringing in at least one large grant from NSF, NIH, or similar.
  What are the similarities or differences between a job at a master’s granting PUI versus an R1 institution? Well, from my perspective, the similarities between the two jobs is most striking. The week is structured by teaching in both jobs, albeit the amount of teaching was greater for me at Georgia Southern. Research was just as important at Georgia Southern as it is at FIU, but the amount of time to do research is less at Georgia Southern. Service was generally similar between the two jobs. I have many friends that are professors across the entire spectrum of institutions of higher educations, and I think the job is largely similar across institutions. And some of the factors that many folks think would be different between a PUI and an R1 differed, at least for me, in the opposite direction that you might pick.

  I think because the perceived hierarchy of higher ed has been so engrained in our training, there is an expectation that the more research-intensive school is better somehow. I can tell you that when I was faculty at Georgia Southern, I had a gorgeous office with high ceilings and a giant floor to ceiling window that looked out to a forest. My office at FIU is a hot (HVAC is a challenge in Florida) little cell in a building whose architecture must have been inspired by the Soviet Era brutalist aesthetic. Especially at large but cash-strapped public institutions like FIU, space is always difficult. At Georgia Southern, I shared a new and well-equipped lab with another faculty member who did similar research. At FIU, I share a larger but older lab space with another faculty member who does similar research. Grad students at Georgia Southern had allocated office space, while finding office space for grad students at FIU has been a challenge. In other words, a large research university will not necessarily have better facilities or infrastructure that a PUI.

  One other common misconception about working at a PUI versus an R1 institution is that working at a PUI is less stressful or hectic. In fact, I have talked to lots of faculty job seekers (grad students and postdocs) who want a job at a PUI because of this idea. However, I have found that the busyness and stress is the same at both institutions. Before I was tenured at FIU, there was certainly anxiety about landing a big research grant, as well as keeping up research productivity with publications. However, I felt the same amount of stress at Georgia Southern to keep up research productivity despite a substantial teaching load. After all, I still needed to fund my work and have a productive research program, and so I was still writing grant proposals and manuscripts. As mentioned before, I have colleagues and many different types of institutions, and when I was first on the job market, I interviewed at many different types of institutions. From my perspective, the stress about the job is generally the same, regardless of the type of the institution. Probably the biggest driver of stress in any faculty position is your personal inclination towards anxiety or stress and institution-specific factors, regardless of the category of institution as R1 or PUI.

  Of course, not all aspects of the job at an R1 or PUI are the same. I get paid a lot better at FIU (probably because we have a faculty union, UFF-FIU), but the cost of living in Miami, Florida is wildly higher than in Statesboro, Georgia. I have found that the capacity for research is certainly greater at FIU, with PhD students, research institutes, and many other resources. Because of time limitations due to the teaching load, either the scope of projects or the amount of time to complete a project were impacted at Georgia Southern. Ironically, I think it is easier to be a good teacher at FIU that Georgia Southern, because you can devote more time to teaching when you are teaching a lot less. To keep up research productivity and not be a workaholic, there was a certain amount of triage that had to take place with teaching at Georgia Southern. It may surprise you to learn that the faculty and leadership at FIU cares about teaching just as much as faculty and leadership at Georgia Southern.

  What does this mean for faculty job seekers at PUIs and R1s? Well, I think the most important point is that it is basically the same job regardless of the type of college or university. The good (e.g., you get to set your schedule, you control your teaching and research programs, etc.) and bad (e.g., lack of structure can lead to overworking, faculty interests are not always aligned with institutional leadership, etc) of being a faculty member are largely the same. If you are interested in a job at a PUI because you think it is easier or less stressful, I hate to tell you that I don’t think that is the case. Conversely, if you have trepidations about landing an R1 job because it seems too busy or stressful, I can tell you that I have not found it more or less stressful than a less research-intensive position. I can say that I was just as happy at Georgia Southern as I am at FIU, and I have a list of things I like and dislike about both places. As is often the case, it will be the specifics of the particular institution (and your match to that institution), rather than broad categorizations based upon research intensity, that will likely determine how happy you are with your job.

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The joys and difficulties of course-based undergraduate research experiences (CURES) in organismal courses

10/19/2025

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One of the best parts of my job is teaching. I particularly enjoy teaching Herpetology, which I have taught Herpetology at three different institutions- I taught Herpetology at Georgia Southern when I was a faculty at that institution, and I currently teach Herpetology at both Florida International University and at the University of Virginia’s Mountain Lake Biological Station. I have made herpetology particularly meaningful for both myself and the students by incorporating ana authentic class research project into the courses both at MLBS and FIU, which nowadays is called “course-based undergraduate research experience”.

            Of course, most laboratory classes in biology involve research, but most research in these laboratories has a predetermined outcome (at least if the lab goes well!), and involves following a pretty strict protocol. I have taught those type of laboratories and classes, and I think they are the right choice for the priorities in certain course. However, when I speak of integrating “authentic” research into courses, that is not what I am describing. Nor am I thinking of small-scale individual or small-group projects that are unlikely to be able to satisfactorily answer any scientific question. Rather, I mean “authentic” research in that we do not know the answer to the research question, we design the study and experiments together as a class, and we aim for enough replication to end up with a publishable chunk of research, with all of the students coauthors on and contributors to the resulting manuscript.

What are the benefits of incorporating authentic research into your classes? Well, for the instructor, this can help generate data for research productivity (not a factor at an R1, but could be important for positions where the teaching load is substantial) and make instruction more immediate, concrete, and compelling. But generally, incorporating research in this way is a lot more work for the instructor, and the real benefit is to the students. Students that participate in these sorts of classes get improved learning outcomes, realistic research experience, and may even get to be a coauthor on a scientific publication. We know that research experiences can improve social understanding of science, increase representation of under-represented groups, and help students get into graduate school (either in biology or medical school or similar). However, most students attend public institutions and will not be able to work in a laboratory. Course based research expands access to research in a way that I find satisfying, although it by no means solves the access issue.

            I have been integrating authentic research into Field Herpetology classes at Mountain Lake Biological Station since I first taught the class in 2016, and in my Herpetology class at FIU since 2021. So what I will be describing is what works for me. However, I do think that what will work can vary a lot across types of institutions and courses (i.e., I have only integrated research into an upper-level organismal course with limited enrollment). Also, I think my approach works because I like writing papers a lot, and rarely is anyone else interested in being the first author. This is not a humble-brag- just because I like it does not mean I am good at it, and I like writing any sort of paper, regardless of impact. In fact, I regularly procrastinate by writing a modest paper when I should be working on grant proposals or more difficult, higher impact papers. Some scientists are more motivated by other aspects of the research process but don’t love writing, and if you are that sort of scientist, it is unlikely that you will motivate yourself to write up a class project for publication. Regardless, I am just trying to be descriptive, not prescriptive, when I discuss how these courses work for me.

            The first place where I tried to integrate authentic research into a course was my Field Herpetology class at Mountain Lake Biological Station. This is an intensive three-week field course, where students live and learn at the station, which is isolated on a mountain in southwestern Virginia. In other words, this is the perfect context for incorporating research into a biology course. The very first time that I taught this course back in 2016, I split the class of eleven students into three different groups, and each group devised their own research project. As I recall, one group studied aversive behavior in bullfrog and green frog tadpoles, another studied courtship behaviors in red-spotted newts, and the last group studied diet and behavior of garter snakes. I have to recall this because while valuable as a learning tool, none of these projects resulted in enough high-quality data for a scientific manuscript. I found that with multiple projects, neither myself or the TA (yes I had a TA for eleven students) had enough time to really vet and help design the research, and the students did not have enough time to collect enough data for a publication, regardless of the project design. Based on this experience, I completely overhauled how I approach these class projects, which has generally (but not always!) been more successful.

            My general approach to devising a research project is to first come up with the skeleton of an idea prior to the class period. I do this by chatting the concept over with collaborators (my former postdoc Ian Clifton, now an assistant prof at the University of Arkansas Little Rock, or my collaborators Mike Logan at UNR and Alison Davis Rabosky at the University of Michigan, all of which have coauthored class projects with me) or with the TA. One of the great pleasures in my life has been teaching Field Herpetology at Mountain Lake Biological Station with Albert Chung, who was an M.S. student of mine at Georgia Southern and has TAed (and now co-instructed) the MLBS course since 2017. By coming up with the general idea we can do the groundwork to make sure that the basic idea is a sound one. Of course, we then do all of the necessary parts of research in the class to give the students ownership of the concept, but I have found that students prefer to be given a starting idea that we can then elaborate on as a class. We also only attempt a single project for each class, which helps us to meet sample size goals and ensure publishable results.

            Beyond the project idea, the other aspect that I have found to be crucial is selection of the research system. When I first started teaching at MLBS, I thought perhaps the class projects would be on salamanders, which are by far the most abundant vertebrates on the station. However, salamanders have been the focus of research at MLBS for decades, and so a lot of the low hanging fruit has already been plucked by previous researchers. Additionally, while I almost studied salamanders for my dissertation, and have been involved with some research on salamanders (my only species description is a salamander from northern Mexico), they are not the focus of my research, which means that it was more difficult to come up with a good research idea that could be done as part of a project for which we only really had a couple of weeks. There are plenty of other herps at MLBS of course, such as garter snakes and water snakes, but many of those have also been fairly well-studied or had logistical issues associated with them. I was lamenting the lack of a place where we could get some more interesting animals, maybe even snakes, at MLBS to the director Butch Brodie (who is a herpetologist as well as a coleopterologist, among many other things), and he told me of a rocky hillside near the station that looked good for snakes. I checked it out, and sure enough, there were plenty of ring-necked snakes, which are not well studied, particularly in this location. Almost every project at MLBS since then has studied some aspect of the biology of ring-necked snakes.

            Another important consideration for authentic course-based research is what kind of data you want to collect. For me, the key considerations are that 1) data must be simple to collect, preferably without specialized equipment that requires training and might breakdown and 2) all data collection and processing must happen during class times. When I have attempted research that relied upon post-processing of images or other data types, the research has inevitably stalled because there is no-one to process the data, and real-time checks of data quality cannot happen. What this means is that I have done lots of thermal biology projects and behavioral research, because the data can be easy to collect, and interpretation is straightforward. This of course reflects my own background and interests.

            How and if you can incorporate research into your course also depends on the institutional context. It is worth pointing out that I also taught herpetology at Georgia Southern University for several years and never incorporated research into the course. Why is that? Well, while there are plenty of critters on the Georgia Southern campus that we could study, none of them were really abundant enough where I could see developing a successful research project. Beyond my course at MLBS, I have also incorporated authentic research into my semester-long Herpetology course at FIU. The class project is the centerpiece of the required laboratory, and while we have less time per class, we have a whole semester to complete the project. There are at least nine species of lizards on campus that we could use for our research project, and our work thus far has focused on two of the most abundant species on campus (brown anoles and bark anoles).

            I hope that the lessons that I have learned about incorporating authentic scientific research into Herpetology might prove useful to anybody who is interested in this approach. I have found that there have been several hidden benefits for me. One of them is that I keep better contact with students after the course, and I can write better and more-informed letters of recommendation. Another is that most of my current research focuses on anole lizards, but my roots are in studies of snake biology. Working on ringnecked snakes as part of class research at MLBS has allowed me to have a research program focused on snakes, at least for three weeks per year, which has been fulfilling.

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How can an animal lover hunt and fish?

10/11/2025

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I am, and always have been, a biophile. I can’t remember a time when I was not completely fascinated by animals. I had a menagerie with a rotating cast of characters when I was a child, from hamsters and gerbils and hedgehogs to snakes and monitor lizards and tarantulas. I remember at one point realizing that I could keep spiders as pets, so I had two dozen wolf spiders in used margarine containers from Aldis. My best friend and I would walk creeks, or wet prairies, looking for snakes and such, and when we could drive, we made field trips across the state (I grew up in Iowa) or into neighboring states like Missouri to find critters. As an adult, I have also lived with many animals. My wife (who is not a biologist but loves animals) has had dogs, cats, rabbits, turkeys, chickens, ducks, veiled chameleons, day geckos, a collared lizard, and a blue-tongued skink. I currently live with two dogs, three cats, five day geckos, and at least three parthenogenetic mourning geckos. So it is safe to say that I love animals, and I have chosen a career where all I do is think about, study, and teach about animals. So how does that square with the fact that my favorite recreational activities involve pursuing and killing animals?

            I should mention that I am not talking about killing animals for my research. Integrative research can often require killing animals to collect tissues or for other valid reasons. Collecting animals for natural history collections also involves killing animals. I think the reasons and justifications for killing animals for research is a bit different than hunting and fishing, and most of my colleagues who have collected animals for collections or killed animals for research do not hunt or fish.

            So how can an animal lover like myself also like pursuing and killing animals? Well, I think it ultimately comes down to the fact that I love animals in the aggregate, but I am okay with the idea that individual representatives of a species can die. After all, death is a part of life, and all individual organisms will eventually die. Hence, I am okay with hunting an animal species given that there is a valid reason for doing so. That reason for me is usually consumption of the animal. I am a meat-eater (as well as a plant and fungus eater), and meat that I procure from myself from the wild is almost always more ethical than what I can purchase.

            The fact that I hunt and fish should not be misconstrued as a generally lax attitude towards animal death. As an example, I don’t generally kill animals without a purpose. I rescue spiders, centipedes, and other bugs from my house and garage, and try to avoid killing animals on the road (where my background as a herpetologist gives me an edge in seeing animals on the road). And when I do kill a fish or a squirrel or a duck or a deer, I also do not take it lightly. I take great care to use as much of the animal as I can, including most organ meat, and saving bones for stock, and so on. In other words, the same ethos that has me tolerating spiders in my house also guides my hunting and fishing.

            The previous passages have described why I am okay with hunting and fishing, but maybe not why I actively hunt and fish. Both of these activities involve substantial effort and can be pretty expensive. So why do I do it? For me, it is about a connection to nature and to my food. Outside of conducting scientific research, probably the best way to understand an animal is to pursue it. And the best way to be connected to your food is to harvest it yourself. So hunting and fishing falls in the same category of gardening, or farming animals, or mushroom hunting. It is a powerful way to connect with nature and with your food. When I eat something that I have harvested, I know that it is far more special than anything that I could ever purchase.

            Although it is not really the point of this post, I also want to dispel a few popular ideas about hunting. Probably the most bizarre idea is that I dislike the animals I hunt or fish, and nothing could be farther from the truth. Whenever I mention that I hunt or fish to someone who does not, they often will ask about feral hogs (everywhere that I have hunted has feral hogs). When I tell these folks that I have hunted feral hogs, they seem to be much more comfortable with the idea, probably with the idea that feral hogs are the enemy, or that I am rectifying some great wrong. But this idea is based in a flawed understanding of how hunting can impact wildlife populations and how I relate to animals that I hunt. In fact, hunting of feral hogs has probably incentivized their spread, as hunting them is quite popular, and they are great table fare. States like Missouri that do not have entrenched hog populations sometimes ban hog hunting, with the idea that allowing hunting will incentivize the illegal spread of hogs. Instead they employ government sharp-shooters to eradicate hogs. Regardless of the efficacy of hunting for managing hog populations, my attitude when harvesting a pig is the same as it would be for a squirrel or a duck. My attitude towards anything that I am harvesting is probably best summarized as intense interest and fascination.

            Another common misconception about hunting is that it is always violent and maybe even depraved (which is probably linked to the idea of disliking prey). You see this a lot in popular representations of hunting, where hunters are portrayed as bloodthirsty and lacking respect for the animal. I have both hunted ducks and raised ducks for meat, and killing and butchering animals raised for meat is much harder than hunting. In hunting or fishing, there is the brief violence at the moment of death, but you do not have a relationship with the animal, and the first time you see that animal closely is when you approach the carcass in the field. Contrast that with killing an animal you have raised since it was young and are invested in its wellbeing, and it is a much more difficult process.

            A final misconception that I want to address is that it is better, or easier, to kill some kinds of animals compared to others. While I can’t say that this is not true for some people, it is not true for me. Many people who have no objections to fishing seem to be taken aback by hunting, even though both pursuits often end up with the death of an animal. Perhaps my attitude towards this is shaped by the fact that I happen to fascinated with and have devoted my life to studying snakes, which many people fear and despise. I also fundamentally do not think that organisms are arranged into a hierarchy, with things most similar to humans at the top of the hierarchy, and more distant organisms further down the ladder. My fundamental belief is that individual organisms have the same value, and might even have similar capacities for suffering. For example, almost all motile organisms have evasive behavior, and even sessile organisms like plants experience and respond to damage. To me, saying that only organisms with nervous systems similar to us can suffer (and hence should not be killed and eaten) is not supported by any evidence. So hunting and fishing is a way for me to be conscientious in general about my impacts on the world, including potential suffering of the organisms that I must consume to live.

            My goal with this post is not to convince anyone to hunt and fish, or change their diet, or anything like that. I think we are all living in a world where no ethical choice is uncomplicated, and I think however people choose to live in the world, either as vegans or pescatarians or meat-eaters, is great. In fact, I lived for about four years as a (mostly) vegan- my wife was vegan and I cook for us, so I was vegan most of the time. But I did want to explain the seeming paradox of enjoying hunting and fishing as an animal lover. I will just end on the fact that both pursuits have allowed me to be more connected to nature and food, and the same motivation that made me pursue this career also makes me passionate about pursuing animals in nature, whether for photos or science or food.

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Two species comparisons and how to do them (well)

10/6/2025

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Thirty years ago, Ted Garland (UC Riverside) published a seminal paper entitled “Why not to do two-species comparative studies: limitations for inferring adaptation” that was published in the journal Physiological Zoology (which then became Physiological and Biochemical Zoology, and is now Ecological and Evolutionary Physiology). This is an incisive and powerful paper, and it lays out the argument for why, whenever possible, comparative studies should incorporate multiple species and phylogenetic comparative analyses for inferring adaptation. This paper was published right at the advent of more broadly available phylogenies and increasing accessibility of phylogenetic comparative methods (such as independent contrasts). I recommend reading the paper- it is a clear and well-written paper with relevance for research today. However, I think the core message has been misremembered and misapplied in a way that can thwart the publication of solid research.

  My interest in this matter comes from personal experience with publishing ecological and physiology research, often with only two species. Many a time the dreaded reviewer number two would trot out the first part of the title of Garland (1994) and tell us that we can’t do two species comparisons. But that paper is about how there are limitations for inferring adaptation with only two species, not that no study should ever be published with two species. There is no reason that you can’t include two species in a single paper to talk about variation within a group, or simply for convenience, as long as you careful about evolutionary inferences. Additionally, the philosophical issues that Garland (1994) was raising aren’t solved by simply adding (or subtracting) one species to your study- you need at least dozens of species for robust phylogenetic comparative analyses. In other words, there is no nadir of inference power that is centered at a sample size of two species. My close collaborator Michael Logan (at University Nevada Reno) and I were grousing about the kinds of reviews that we were getting, and so we decided to publish a perspective piece highlighting the contexts where two (or a few) species comparisons were appropriate (later published in Physiological and Biochemical Zoology). Given that this perspective piece was a sort of blog post, I thought it would be worth discussing on the blog.

  To understand the context in which the original Garland (1994) paper was written, we need to go back to the type of comparative physiology work of the prior few decades. I think it is safe to say that many physiologists were not exceptionally well-versed in evolutionary biology, which at the time was still in initial development (this was in the modern synthesis era). There is no doubt that we learned a lot about physiology in this era, but some of these studies would not pass muster today. One of my favorite concepts (and literature) of comparative physiology of that era is the idea of symmorphosis. Symmorphosis is the idea that organismal systems should have quantitatively matched design for maximal efficiency, such that no component of the system is functioning at substantially greater capacity than the rest of the system. To put this in a real physiological context, symmorphosis would suggest that the digestive capacity of intestinal brush-border oligopeptidases that are the final step of protein digestion should be matched to the capacity of brush-border amino acid transporters that transport the resulting amino acids into the body. It is not really the point of this exercise, but symmorphosis as a context is probably true in general, but does not hold up in lots of situations (because of safety factors, because organisms are not optimized but the result of contingency and tradeoffs). Regardless, some of the foundational work underlying this field focused on respiratory physiology, and often compared such divergent species as dogs and goats. While we no doubt learned a lot from this work, inferring adaptation to differences between dogs and goats is fraught, because you only have two data points and they have been separated by many millions of years of evolution. In other words, it is hard to attribute any difference between the species to any single factor, because they differ in so many ways- diet (omnivore vs herbivore), locomotion (unguligrade rather than digitigrade), habitat type, and so on. All of this to say that the original Garland (1994) paper was a call to arms for rigor in comparative research, which was sorely needed at the time and I still think is an important message.

  So what is the second reviewer getting wrong when they tell us that we cannot publish a two-species study? Well, I think they get several things wrong. First (and already addressed above), Garland (1994) is about inferring adaptation. If there are no inferences about adaptation, then bringing up Garland (1994) is irrelevant. Second, there is no criticism of a two-species comparison that does not apply to three-species studies, or four-species studies, or even one-species studies. But assembling data on the number of species necessary for phylogenetic comparative analyses might be difficult or impossible for complex physiological data, and it may take many years to accumulate enough research for comparative analyses. So what do you do if you want to think about evolution and adaptation, but cannot get data for enough species for comparative analyses? The final thing that the second reviewer can get wrong is that there are still ways to infer adaptation, even for only two or a few species, that are even highlighted in Garland (1994).

  How can you infer adaptation from two or a few species? When Mike and I started thinking about this, we were guided by the concept of robust inference from Platt and the severity principle from Mayo and colleagues, which I first learned about by reading the Dynamic Ecology blog. Basically, we think you can infer adaptation by 1) making appropriate comparisons of closely related species that are generally similar in most ways, 2) formulating hypotheses that can be subjected to integrative testing, 3) collecting lots of data to avoid statistical underdetermination that will allow severe tests of hypotheses, and 4) finally, systematically subjecting alternative hypotheses to severe tests. It is hard to actually do this, particularly in a single study, but I think my best work at least strives for this kind of robustness, either in a single study or across several studies. These basic ideas are already in Garland (1994), so our perspective piece really just expanded on those ideas and combined them with the concepts of robust inference and severity.

  Our hope was that we can convince the integrative biology community (who reviews our manuscripts) to avoid the knee-jerk response of “Two-species = bad” based upon a superficial understanding of Garland (1994). Integrative organismal research is hard and time-consuming, but is important in the context of declining biodiversity and changing global climate. I do think comparative research with only a few species should be careful with inferences, and we don’t want a return to dog to goat comparisons. But we also don’t want to make the publication process more difficult or fraught than necessary, especially as it is only by accumulating single or few species studies that we will be able to deploy phylogenetic comparative analyses to test for adaptation in a macroevolutionary context.

References
Garland Jr, T., & Adolph, S. C. (1994). Why not to do two-species comparative studies: limitations on inferring adaptation. Physiological Zoology, 67(4), 797-828.

Cox, C. L., & Logan, M. L. (2021). Using integrative biology to infer adaptation from comparisons of two (or a few) species. Physiological and Biochemical Zoology, 94(3), 162-170.

Weibel, E. R., Taylor, C. R., Weber, J. M., Vock, R., Roberts, T. J., & Hoppeler, H. (1996). Design of the Oxygen and Substrate Pathways: VII. Different Structural Limits for Oxygen and Substrate Supply to Muscle Mitochondria. Journal of experimental biology, 199(8), 1699-1709.

Weibel, E. R., Marques, L. B., Constantinopol, M., Doffey, F., Gehr, P., & Taylor, C. R. (1987). Adaptive variation in the mammalian respiratory system in relation to nergic demand: VI. The pulmonary gas exchanger. Respiration physiology, 69(1), 81-100.

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What are the differences between being a professor at a primarily undergraduate institution versus a highly research-intensive institution?

The joys and difficulties of course-based undergraduate research experiences (CURES) in organismal courses

How can an animal lover hunt and fish?

Two species comparisons and how to do them (well)

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