Plant Cuttings

This image of “A girl flanked by a reedbed consisting of invasive Phragmites australis which can grow some 15 feet (4.6 meters) tall” by NASA Goddard Space Flight Center is used under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.

What should one make of this statement: “each underground stem – stolon – can …” (from p. 223 of How to be a bad botanist by Simon Barnes)?

Taken at face value, Barnes is telling us that stolon is another name for an underground stem. Whilst that might seem straightforward, and uncontroversial, I was surprised to see that stated in the book. Why?

Because I had always understood a stolon to be an above– or overground stem (Henk Beentje, 2010, 2016; Lei Guo et al., 2019)*. [And, for completeness, I believed – and still do – that an underground stem is called a rhizome (Liz Baessler; Henk Beentje, 2010, 2016; Lei Guo et al., 2019). But, please no questions about the term ‘stoloniferous rhizome’ (p. 101 in Beentje (2010)/p. 112 in Beentje (2016)…]

Seeing those words in the book, caused me to question what I thought I knew. Is stolon another name for an underground stem? Whose interpretation is correct? Mr Barnes’, or Mr P Cuttings’?

Mr Cuttings’ view is supported by published sources as evidence*. Mr Barnes provides no source for his statement. Whilst it may be the case that Barnes strongly believes – from what he’s been told or has learnt – that stolon is an alternative name for an underground stem, it clearly conflicts with Mr Cutting’s recollection.

Further support for Mr Cuttings’ view is provided by some context to the book’s statement. Barnes’ mention of stolon is in part of a chapter dealing with non-sexual reproduction by plants, and the full sentence of interest is: “I can see an awful lot of reeds from my desk as I write these words: each underground stem – stolon – can put up (p. 223) many above-ground stalks” (p. 224). Since ‘reeds’ are mentioned without their scientific name, one has to infer the identity of the plant. My best guess is that Barnes, writing at his desk in the UK, and by reference to this statement elsewhere in the book: “plants that emerge from the water like reeds and flag irises” (p. 146), is referring to common reed (Phragmites australis), an aquatic grass. A short internet search regarding the name of common reed’s underground stems reveals the following statements: “The plant spreads horizontally by sending out underground rhizomes…”; “Rhizomes are underground stems connected to the parent plant…”; and “Rhizome: An underground horizontal stem…”.

All of which – the sourced definitions of stolon, and the technical name for Phragmites’ underground stem – support the view that it is rhizome – and not stolon – that should be the alternative name for Barnes’ ‘underground stem’.

In the absence of sources, we cannot know the origin of Barnes’ stolon-underground stem synonymy (Matt Ellis, Richard Nordquist)**. However, “we are where we are” – as a wise woman of the West Country once said. We don’t know Barnes’ reasoning for stating what he did, and speculation is unhelpful. We have to deal with what’s in front of us. And that appears to be a mis-statement of fact; stolon is not an alternative name for an underground stem.

But, does any of this really matter?***

Yes, because it’s about academic rigour and the duty owed by writers of non-fiction to their audience. If readers of How to be a bad botanist simply accept the ‘fact’ that a stolon is another name for an underground stem [which would be perfectly understandable; after all, what reason might they have to disbelieve the author on this point, and in a book over which we are told an expert eye has been cast and saved the author “from countless ‘howlers’” (book’s Acknowledgements, p. 277)?], they may perpetuate what I believe to be an erroneous view, when that information is shared with others****. That would have the result of diminishing the public’s botanical literacy, which is quite the opposite effect to what the book is otherwise attempting to enhance. How to be a bad botanist has many good points [see my appraisal here]. It would be a great shame if promoting incorrect botanical information is one of its bad ones*****.

But, the book is already in print. So, isn’t this a case of ‘closing the stable door after the horse has bolted’ (Richard Flynn)? It is. It certainly would have been so much better for all parties to get these matters sorted before publication. And that is part of the problem – ensuring that draft manuscripts are sufficiently fact-checked – and sources added – so that what is finally published is as accurate as it can be, Sadly, there appears not to be enough of that as there should be. It’s interesting to know why this doesn’t happen. Is it a publisher’s decision? Or does it come from the author? Certainly, attention to these matters will prolong the time it takes to publish books, so there will presumably be a cost implication, and probably a marketing implication. But, surely it’s worth doing? [Ed. – it would certainly make Mr Cuttings’ book appraisals shorter…]

What is the ‘moral’ of this story (Kyle Deguzman)?

Although based around a specific example from one botanical fact-based book, the issue applies to many titles in that field of literature, and the polite request to all authors of such books is for them to state their sources [to substantiate statements made, and to ensure that facts are checked to avoid ambiguity or potential confusion for the reader]******. PLEASE. Doing so is not only a great service for your readers, it is, arguably, part of the duty that an author owes to his audience. [Ed. – it will also enhance – considerably – the author’s academic credentials…]

* Although, it must be recognised that some sources state that stolons do also occur below-ground, e.g.: “Stolons, … are slender horizontal stems that grow either along or just beneath the surface of the ground”; “stolon: A horizontal stem that grows at ground level (usually above or slightly below)” (Enid Mayfield, 2021); “Stolons are horizontal stems which grow at the soil surface or below ground”; “In botany, stolons are plant stems which grow at the soil surface or just below ground“. Whilst these sources add an underground dimension to the definition of a stolon, none of them contradict the conclusion that an underground stem is called a rhizome. Their existence could, however, provide an explanation as to why somebody may entertain the notion that an underground stem might be a stolon, which might find its way into something they write. But that would be pure speculation.

Ed. – The stand-out contradictory definition comes from the Rare Plants site: “Stolons: These are creeping horizontal stems or runners that are produced underground”. But, since that definition runs counter to all of the others I found, it looks definitely wrong. Although maybe not as wrong as this ‘howler’ from the DCR [Department of Conservation & Recreation] Office of Water Resources of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, “Rhizomes (under ground roots [sic.]) …” (Michelle Robinson). The more I delved into this stolon puzzle, the more I wonder what is correct on the internet…

** Nevertheless, one does wonder if a – Phragmites-related – contributory factor to Barnes’ mis-naming of the underground stem as a stolon may be partly related to some sources on the biology of common reed – that Barnes may have seen – and that state that the plant can spread – in addition to underground rhizomes – by above-ground runners – or stolons (e.g. “Young phragmites stands may also produce stolons”; “Expansion of established populations is mainly through clonal growth of the horizontal rhizome system and ground-surface stolons” (Jasmin Packet et al., 2017; ”Stolon: A thin, horizontal above-ground structure that bears roots at the nodes”; “Stolons are stems that are connected to the parent plant that grow along the soil surface and can form roots and shoots”; “Phragmites australis subsp. australis is a perennial reed that grows from elongated rhizomes or stolons; …The plant spreads horizontally by sending out underground rhizomes and over ground runners” ).

*** Lest you may be wondering. No, this is not a case of ‘academic point-scoring’. Nor is it being used as an opportunity to ‘diss’ a published author. Mr Cuttings is above that sort of thing. And, besides, in almost all other respects Barnes is a writer of matters botanical who is much-admired by this blog’s author (e.g., here, here, and here). Rather, here, we are solely concerned with academic rigour, and the accuracy and reliability of the printed word.

**** This potential for misinformation has some similarities with the debate around the statement that “80% of the world’s biodiversity is found on indigenous lands” (Stephen Garnett & Álvaro Fernández-Llamazares; Álvaro Fernández-Llamazares et al., 2024). But, that biodiversity issue is arguably worse because the statement has been published with a supporting source stated. The problem there was that the veracity of the claim made in the cited source is highly questionable. Stating erroneous sources to support statements is a whole level of wrongness above-and-beyond the stolon semantic confusion. But it is another concern about the correctness of what’s stated in print.

Related to that is the issue that, where a source has been stated, it might have been misunderstood – even if unintentionally – by the author who’s cited it. In which case, the published ‘fact’ it is supposedly supporting may still be wrong. Unfortunately, merely providing a source doesn’t necessarily validate the correctness of the statement that’s been made. Now, that is a worry – particularly for those readers who may not be sceptical enough to check that the stated source does say what the author claims. But why should readers be ‘mistrusting’? Why shouldn’t they believe that it is entirely reasonable to trust the author? After all, s/he is the one who should surely be presumed to have done the necessary research, fact-checking, and ‘due diligence’ (James Chen), and ensured that everything they have written is supported by evidence (such as stated sources). Why should readers question such statements? Because authors are only human [Ed. – please, let’s not go down the rabbit warren of instances where AI [Artificial Intelligence] may have been used to generate the text (Eddy Balle)…] and humans do make mistakes (Bryce P). Anything that can reasonably be done – which includes stating sources – to help to ensure that all is as well as it can be, should be done by the author.

***** I know what some of you are probably thinking: This issue was spotted – purely by chance – because ‘eagle-eyed’ Mr Cuttings had some knowledge in the area of definitions of botanical terms. What about other statements that might exist in the book about which Mr Cuttings is less knowledgeable? How many other erroneous ‘facts’ may there be in print? And not just in How to be a bad botanist. There are lots of fact-based plant books out there that one might need to be as sceptical about. Now, that’s one ‘can of worms’ I’d rather not reopen at this point…

****** Although, it must be acknowledged that one can probably find a source that confirms one’s own bias, prejudice, or preconceptions. That issue – of ‘cherry-picking’ sources to support a particular point of view – is a(nother) potential problem with fact-based writing. But, at least, if a source is stated, that gives us something to work with – and is, arguably, better than having no source at all.

REFERENCES

Henk Beentje, 2010. The Kew plant glossary, 1^st edition. Kew Publishing.

Henk Beentje, 2016. The Kew plant glossary, 2^nd  edition. Kew Publishing.

Álvaro Fernández-Llamazares et al., 2024. No basis for claim that 80% of biodiversity is found in Indigenous territories. Nature 633: 32-35; doi: https://doi.org/10.1038/d41586-024-02811-w

Lei Guo et al., 2019. Developmental regulation of stolon and rhizome. Current Opinion in Plant Biology 59: 101970; doi: 10.1016/j.pbi.2020.10.003

Enid Mayfield, 2021. Illustrated plant glossary. CSIRO/CABI.

Jasmin Packer et al., 2017. Biological Flora of the British Isles: Phragmites australis. Journal of Ecology 105(4): 1123-1162; https://doi.org/10.1111/1365-2745.12797