What Jane Goodall taught me about bones, loss and not wasting anything

Jane Goodall passed away on October 1 at the age of 91. Upon hearing the news, my thoughts drifted back 35 years to a conversation with the groundbreaking chimpanzee behavior researcher.

As the ‘90s rolled in, Goodall had been immersed in her studies of the chimps in Tanzania’s Gombe National Park for almost three decades. Her research revealed the previously unrecognized intricacies of the social lives of these primates. To my surprise, I learned that the seemingly genteel British ethologist had curated an extraordinary collection of chimp skeletons.

Goodall and her team would retrieve the bodies of deceased chimps shortly after their passing, place them in a tin drum to allow insects to decompose the remains, and then clean the bones. Each skeleton belonged to a Gombe chimp with documented sex, age, body weight, and life history, providing researchers with invaluable data to study the effects of individual experiences on skeletal features.

Unlike scientists examining ancient hominid fossils, who work with unidentified remains, Goodall’s project opened up the possibility of examining our evolutionary predecessors from a novel viewpoint, one guided by how bone structures reflect the various aspects of an individual’s life journey.

Eager to write about Goodall’s unique collection of skeletons, I contacted the Jane Goodall Institute. Back in 1990, email usage was not widespread, and Zoom was as far-fetched as a flying car. An official at the institute provided me with a phone number to reach her in Africa. At the designated time, I made the call. A click followed, and Jane Goodall greeted me.

I took a deep breath and introduced myself. My heart gradually slowed as I began a series of questions. Goodall spoke softly, downplaying the significance of her collection efforts.

When I inquired about the relevance of Gombe chimp skeletons in understanding ancient hominids, like Lucy’s 3.2-million-year-old partial skeleton, Goodall candidly replied, “We just don’t know.” My questions about the dramatic variations in the bone structures of Gombe chimps, newly revealed by her collection, received similar replies. Perhaps, she suggested, speculation would transform into concrete answers as research progressed.

Goodall’s enthusiasm grew when discussing her motivation to observe living chimps as well as to preserve their skeletal remains. I quoted her in a 1990 Science News article: “I began collecting chimpanzee skeletons from the beginning of my research. When you’re working in the field, you shouldn’t waste anything.”

To my youthful ears, this perspective seemed oddly utilitarian and detached. After all, Goodall was renowned for forming deep connections with the living Gombe chimps. However, I realized my misunderstanding.

Goodall’s bond with individual Gombe chimps likely deepened as their skeletons piled up over the years. Take Flo, a dominant matriarch who was one of the first chimps to approach Goodall’s camp. An active participant in the Gombe social dynamics, Flo raised her five offspring with unwavering patience. Goodall felt the impact of Flo’s passing in 1972 deeply.

True to her role as a Gombe influencer, Flo provided one of the most fascinating skeletal narratives within Goodall’s collection.

Flo’s skeleton was larger than most, irrespective of sex. Yet she weighed less than a smaller, more robust male named Charlie, underscoring the challenges of deducing body weight from skeletal dimensions. Additionally, Flo exhibited a pattern of bone loss that diverged from the experiences of human females with osteoporosis, commonly linked to hormonal changes post-menopause. Her skeletal integrity coincided with Goodall’s observations that this resilient chimp matriarch had given birth within a few years of her near-50 death. Recent studies have identified evidence of menopause in female chimps over 50, a notably advanced age in the wild.

The anatomical legacies of Flo and her peers have provided researchers with crucial insights into skeletal development, undoubtedly bringing Goodall considerable satisfaction. As she transitioned from fieldwork to environmental advocacy and writing later in life, her determination not to waste anything as a young friend to the Gombe chimps continued to bear scientific fruit.

I find solace in imagining that if there exists an afterlife beyond the scientific realm, Jane Goodall and Flo are reconnecting with fondness.