This chapter deals with how our knowledge of fossils and earth and life history is applied in industry and elsewhere.

7.1 Petroleum geology

Readers interested in further details are referred to Jones (1996), Laudon (1996), Selley (1998) and Gluyas and Swarbrick (2003). Those interested in the environmental impact of petroleum exploration and reservoir exploitation are referred to Evans (1997); those interested in impact mitigation, to his discussion of BP's Wytch Farm oilfield underlying Poole Harbour, Dorset, UK, and under development using shore-based ‘extended reach’ directional drilling.

Principles and practice of petroleum geology

Play components

There are essentially three components to a successful play, namely, a working petroleum source-rock and system, to provide the petroleum charge; a reservoir, to store, and ultimately to flow, same; and a cap-rock (seal) and trap, to prevent it from escaping. Each of these play components is discussed in more detail below. A discussion of stratigraphic control on play component distribution follows.

Petroleum source-rocks and systems

Petroleum source-rocks. Petroleum source-rocks are those from which petroleum is derived. They typically consist of abundant organic matter or kerogen, that can be of either terrestrial land-plant or humic, or marine algal or sapropelic, origin. This organic matter is transformed, or matured, into oil and gas by heating on burial. The product will depend on the nature of the source-rock, and on the transformation ratio, or degree of maturation, in turn determined by burial history and by basin type. Typically, oil is generated from so-called ‘type I’ or ‘type II’ source-rocks, whose organic matter is of marine algal origin; and gas either from these same source rocks subjected to more maturation, or from ‘type III” source-rocks, whose organic matter is of terrestrial land-plant origin. Maturation and migration can be modelled using various publicly available and proprietary one-, two- and three-dimensional basin-modelling software packages.

Petroleum systems. Apetroleum system has been variously defined as ‘a dynamic petroleum generating and concentrating system functioning in geological space and time’, or ‘a pod of active source rock and the resulting oil and gas accumulations’. As recently noted by Katz and Mello, in Mello and Katz (2000), although the term has been defined, it nonetheless still appears to mean different, albeit thematically related, things to different individuals and organisations.

A decade after the appearance of the first edition, the opportunity to prepare a revised second edition has permitted me to introduce a number of changes in the text. Some of these are relatively minor revisions made in the interests of clarity and readability. Obviously, the new Bibliographical essay includes a number of important publications that appeared since my earlier work. Three changes, however, are more substantial. First, new publications on Italian education have caused me to rethink the treatment on that subject, now located in Chapter 2. Unfortunately, the story of the ‘educational revolution’ of the Italian Renaissance has become more complicated, though the revised account still maintains that a significant transformation in the nature of Italian grammar-school education took place during the fifteenth century. Second, new publications on what I have called Italian pre-humanism and on the role of ‘civic humanism’ (if any) in the development of Renaissance Italy have led to some rethinking of my earlier treatment, though I remain unconvinced that the basic idea of a historically decisive connection between political and intellectual history in Quattrocento Florence should be abandoned. As a result of these two areas of revision, the original Chapter 1 has been divided, with the new Chapter 2 beginning with the emergence of humanism as the dominant culture of the elite classes not only in Florence but throughout Italy. That emergence of humanism and the mechanisms (such as education) by which it took place are the main theme of the new Chapter 2.

This chapter essentially deals with what fossils are, how they form, how they are collected, and how they are classified and identified, described and illustrated, and curated.

Fossils

The word ‘fossil’ derives from the Latin fodere, meaning ‘to dig’. Its usage is in reference to any and all physical remains or other direct physical indications of past life. The physical remains of past life include not only what are often termed ‘body fossils’, that is, ‘hard parts’ of skeletons such as bones (Denys, in Briggs and Crowther, 2001) and shells (Meldahl, in Briggs and Crowther, 2001), but also, under exceptional circumstances, ‘soft parts’ of animals (Stankiewicz and Briggs, in Briggs and Crowther, 2001), parts of plants (van Bergen, in Briggs and Crowther, 2001), bacteria (Liebig, in Briggs and Crowther, 2001), and biomolecules such as fats, proteins and DNA (Briggs et al., in Erwin and Wing, 2000; Collins and Gernaey, in Briggs and Crowther, 2001; Evershed and Lockheart, in Briggs and Crowther, 2001; Poinar and Paabo, in Briggs and Crowther, 2001; Jones, 2001). Other direct physical indications of past life include ‘trace fossils’ (see separate section in Chapter 3).

The fossilisation process (taphonomy)

The fossilisation process, whereby living individual organisms or communities are transformed after death into fossils or fossil assemblages, is termed taphonomy (Fursich, in Briggs and Crowther, 1990; Allison and Briggs, 1991; Donovan, 1991; Martin, 1999; Behrensmeyer et al., in Erwin and Wing, 2000; Wilson, in Briggs and Crowther, 2001; Holz and Simoes, in Koutsoukos, 2005). In fact, a range of biological, physical and chemical processes is involved, from decomposition (Allison, in Briggs and Crowther, 2001), through disarticulation, fragmentation and transportation (Anderson, in Briggs and Crowther, 2001), to compaction, thermal alteration and dissolution on burial (Briggs, in Briggs and Crowther, 1990; Tucker, in Briggs and Crowther, 1990; Jones, 1996; McNeil et al., 1996), and reworking. For a living organism to become fossilised requires that it can withstand the combined effects of these processes. In general, its chances of becoming fossilised are enhanced if it becomes buried immediately after death (and/or is otherwise protected from decomposition, perhaps by anoxic bottom conditions), and/or is and remains resistant to the destructive physical and chemical effects of the so-called diagenetic processes that enter into operation after burial (see also Sub-section 2.2.2).

Petrarch raised most of the issues of humanistic culture and set many of the directions in which it moved during the two centuries following his lifetime. He also became a famous literary personality in his own time. Nevertheless, he was a deracinated intellectual with no fixed abode and no real sense of belonging to a community. His exquisite lyric poetry and his classical learning did indeed point towards a new direction for Italian culture, but in the short run his constituency was mainly the wealthy, leisured clergymen and the secular princes whose patronage assured his material existence. What saved Petrarch's work from becoming merely a literature of the court was the adoption of his ideals by the prosperous lay intellectuals of the Italian cities, particularly Florence, which in the late fourteenth century and throughout the fifteenth century was by far the most important centre of humanistic culture. Modern scholars have probed the history of this great city, trying to understand why it outstripped all the other cities where humanism was also developing. Perhaps there is no definitive answer to the mystery of Florentine cultural leadership. Florence was by no means the only city with the wealth and the literate population needed to support the new culture. One special advantage of Florence may have been a lack. Unlike Padua, Bologna, Pisa, and several rival cities, Florence did not have a university at all until 1349. Even after that date, the local university never played a dominant role in cultural life. Hence local intellectuals were relatively free from the traditionalism and professionalism of university life.

By the closing decades of the sixteenth century, Renaissance humanism had become the prevalent culture among the educated elite that dominated the political establishment, the officially recognized churches, and the schools of western and central Europe, north as well as south of the Alps. Even across the bitterly contested divide of the Reformation, and despite the limitations imposed by censorship of the press, inquisitions, and consistories, a broadly uniform higher culture prevailed. Books and ideas passed back and forth from Protestant to Catholic regions. A famous classical scholar and neo-Stoic moralist like Justus Lipsius (1547–1606) could make his academic career at different periods of his life at both Protestant and Catholic universities provided he was willing to conform to the established local form of Christianity, even though there were some bitter remarks about the slippery religious convictions of an author whose most famous book of ethics was called Of Constancy. Furthermore, though the humanistic culture that prevailed in the late Renaissance was in one sense restricted to the privileged few who could obtain an education, the work of translators and popularizers allowed a much larger proportion of the population to share the new culture. A man of the people like Shakespeare had access to themes, ideas, and values found in classical texts, even though he could never penetrate the classical heritage with the profundity of a brilliant and privileged university graduate like John Milton. The humanistic tradition remained dominant in many respects, among plain folk as well as the educated classes, into the late nineteenth century.

Although Italy in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries was a distinct society with a distinct culture, sharply different from the rest of Europe, it was closely linked to transalpine Europe by religion, politics, and trade. Not only people but also ideas and books passed back and forth across the Alps. During the fourteenth century, many of the mercenary troops who conducted Italy's wars were foreigners, especially French and English. Large colonies of Italian merchants were established in northern commercial centres such as London, Paris, Lyons, and the cities of Flanders and Brabant. The clergy were important carriers of cultural influence, both northerners going to Rome to conduct lawsuits in the church courts, seek dispensations, or petition for appointments, and Italians going north as papal legates, collectors, and appointees. Other carriers of ideas were university teachers and students. A few of these were Italians going north to study (almost exclusively theology, at Paris) or to teach in northern schools and universities; but far more numerous were the northerners coming to Italian universities. From the thirteenth century, Italian faculties of medicine and law were regarded as the best in Christendom, and a doctorate in law or medicine from Bologna, Padua, or another Italian university provided a clear competitive advantage when students returned home. Until after 1450, few northern students came primarily to study humanistic subjects; but Italian law and medical science had some connection with humanistic studies. When transalpine students returned north, they not only carried both ideas and books with them but also in many cases gained influential positions that enabled them to become patrons who promoted humanistic learning.

This chapter includes sections on all of the highlevel divisions of organisms identified in Chapter 2 that are important in the fields of palaeobiology and biostratigraphy, namely bacteria, plant-like protists or algae, animal-like protists or protozoans, plants, fungi, invertebrate animals and vertebrate animals. It also covers trace fossils.

As far as practicable, a standard format has been adopted. Areas covered include: biology, morphology and classification; palaeobiology; and biostratigraphy.

Emphasis has been placed on the palaeobiological and biostratigraphic significance of the various groups, and their proven and potential applications in the interpretation of earth and life history and processes. Other areas are covered only if they are relevant to these applications, and only in a level of detail commensurate with applicability. Fossil groups with minimal applicability have not been included.

More or less familiar names have been used wherever practicable, and an attempt has been made to keep the amount of scientific jargon to a necessary minimum.

Micropalaeontology and palynology

The groupings used in this book are essentially natural, reflecting evolutionary relationships, and the arrangement is in at least approximate order of evolutionary advancement. It is worth noting here, though, that an alternative, entirely artificial grouping of microfossils also exists, which is useful for practical purposes, as it is based on size range, composition, and required methods of collection, preparation and study. This treats together the calcareous microfossils, that is, the calcareous algae, the calcispheres or oligosteginids, Bolboforma, foraminiferans, calpionellids, ostracods and otoliths; the siliceous microfossils, that is, the silicoflagellates, diatoms and radiolarians; the phosphatic microfossils, that is, the conodonts and ichthyoliths; the organic-walled microfossils or palynomorphs, that is, the dinoflagellates, acritarchs, plant spores and pollen, and chitinozoans; and the calcareous nannofossils (Jones, 1996). The study of microfossils is termed micropalaeontology; that of organic-walled microfossils or palynomorphs, palynology.

Innovative applications of palynology

Palynology has a number of applications in the fields of petroleum geology, mineral exploration and exploitation, coal mining, and archaeology (see appropriate sections below). It also has applications in a number of other fields.

By the beginning of the sixteenth century, the programme of humanistic studies and the dream of a renewal of ‘civilized’ learning and literature and an end of ‘barbarism’ had established themselves to some extent in all the major countries of western and central Europe. But the new learning, often viewed with suspicion because of its Italian origins and its reverence for pagan literature, had by no means become dominant north of the Alps. Its marginal and subordinate position was accurately reflected in the life of the universities (see Chapter 4). There were some masters in every faculty of liberal arts who criticized traditional textbooks and aspired to modify the curriculum leading to arts degrees in order to de-emphasize logic and give greater attention to humanistic studies. These men were able to offer lectures on classical authors and private lessons in Greek from time to time. A genuine and spontaneous interest in the new learning was growing up, and even in such a notoriously conservative university as Cologne, many students managed to lay the foundation of a mastery of classical Latin and ancient literature, even of Greek, that enabled them to become prominent humanists in later decades. Most humanists were perfectly content to work quietly on the margin of university life, teaching the works of classical or modern humanistic authors, and eventually working their way into more important positions as heads of colleges or attaining far more important positions in one of the three higher faculties that dominated the institutions and offered virtually the only stable, salaried or beneficed professorships.

This book aims to present a comprehensive account of the development and significance of the humanistic culture of Europe (north as well as south) in the age of the Renaissance. It is based on the researches of more than a generation of scholars active since about the end of the Second World War. At that time, critical attacks on the traditional picture of Renaissance civilization established by Jakob Burckhardt had produced so much doubt about the meaning, and even the existence, of a Renaissance that many historians abandoned use of the term itself, a situation brilliantly demonstrated in Wallace K. Ferguson's The Renaissance in Historical Thought (1948). In the aftermath of that historiographical demolition, I myself wrote a dissertation which systematically avoided use of the dread term ‘Renaissance’, and not a single member of my examining committee challenged or even mentioned the omission. Yet leaving ‘the Renaissance’ and ‘humanism’ out of the history of the Renaissance age was not a viable position, as I found when I undertook to revise my dissertation into a book that addressed the intellectual problems of the sixteenth century, and found in an even more pressing way when I faced the task of explaining the Renaissance to a class of college freshmen in a lecture of fifty minutes. Whether historians like the concepts ‘Renaissance’ and ‘humanism’ or not, the centuries to which those terms are conventionally applied really did exist and must be faced, since they contributed in important ways to the subsequent development of Western society and civilization.