Jared Diamond’s classic Guns, Germs and Steel, proposes some remarkable hypotheses about how the pattern of history played out, notably trying to answer the question of why it was generally the Europeans that invaded much of the rest of the world rather than the other way around. One hypothesis, striking in its simplicity if you’ve ever looked at a world map, is the significant contribution of the general orientation of the major continents.

The Americas are largely lined up North–South, while Europe and Asia (Eurasia) are largely lined up East-West. An East-West alignment means the land generally has a more similar climate, day length and seasonal variations. The general logic goes that the similar latitude of an East–West alignment means animals, crops, as well as travel and trade, more easily spread across the continents than with a North–South alignment — of the Americas and Africa — which naturally encounters more different climatic zones.

As a simplified example, horses and other large animals and crops spread throughout the shared temperate latitudes of Eurasia. In contrast, South America’s only large domesticated animal, the thick-coated llama (and related species like the alpaca) couldn’t easily spread to North America through the impassable tropical barrier of the isthmus of Panama. They just aren’t built for it.

There are a lot of viewpoints on the theory, and Diamond includes many more factors of geopgraphy and others — like never being able to domesticate the zebra — that go towards answering his question of why Spain invaded the Americas and not vice-versa. But ever since reading it I’ve found this hypothesis hugely intriguing.

The continental axis hypothesis

There’s a famous photo series by Eadweard Muybridge that shows, unequivocally, that while galloping all four of a horse’s legs leave the ground. I’d always heard that’s what they trying to find out at the time, but from what I’ve read it was more a question of at what points do a horse’s legs leave the ground. The photos show the somewhat surprising state of leaving the ground while the horse’s legs are tucked, not when they are outstretched. It’s a lovely example of what Edward Tufte calls small multiples.

Sketchplanations tagged with horse