ALL OF US INVOLVED IN SCIENCE STAND ON THE SHOULDERS OF the generations of researchers who came before us, and books such as this one represent the summation of work from hundreds, maybe thousands, of individuals. Collective thanks are owed to these folks who help us uncover the history of life and our planet, as well as those who work—often in trying circumstances—to understand and rectify our current biodiversity crisis. It’s hard to write a book about the evolution of life without feeling more invested in the state of life on Earth and the future of this planet. I hope reading this book will help others feel the same way I have as I’ve written it.
Some specific individuals must be acknowledged for their contributions to this book and their encouragement about its content. This work has benefited from input by Victoria Arbour, Nathan Barling, James Boyle, Markus Bühler, Richard Butler, Vicky Coules, Gary Dunham, Jim Farlow, Mike Habib, Luke Hauser, David Hone, Christian Kammerer, Julian Kiely, Darren Naish, the research staff at National Museums Scotland, Felipe Pinheiro, Steve Sweetman, Mike Taylor, and Mathew Wedel. There are possibly others whom I have forgotten to mention: if you’re among the omitted, feel free to demand that I buy you a beverage of your choosing next time we meet.
My ability to write educational books and create art is supported by a number of patrons who supply me with a monthly salary at Patreon. com. You guys have made, and continue to make, a huge contribution to my life, for which I’m sincerely thankful. I hope this book justifies your very kind support of my work.
My parents, Paul and Carol Witton, need a mention for their continued patience with a son whom they see increasingly rarely, owing to my being ever busier with different projects that bleed into vacation time and weekends. (I promise I’m not just putting you on speaker phone while I work through your phone calls, honest.) But please spare most thought for four-time book widow Georgia Witton-Maclean, who somehow still puts up with my long, late work hours and my continuous gibbering about whatever cool thing I’ve been painting or writing about, and demands only that I watch Deep Space Nine with her in return. She’s quite OK, that wife of mine. But that’s our little secret—don’t tell her I said that.