The information contained herein is intended to give the public, especially those interested in becoming participants in our Public Dragon-Rearing and Observation Initiative a brief overview of the most recent implications of, and discussions in, dracozoology. It is not intended to be a complete dissemination of recent research, nor is it intended to be a replacement for a complete dragonry license course, which must be completed at a certified testing center prior to the commencement of participants’ involvement in the program.
Introduction
Dragons. Since they first appeared in the early-to-mid-2000s, they’ve captivated the public imagination and set off a frenzy of research initiatives—scientific, historical, and religious.
There are many competing theories—some more plausible than others—as to why dragons began to emerge in biological reality only in the last decade or so, but have existed in the mythology and folklore of almost every culture in the world for millennia. Below are the three that are most commonly accepted in academic circles.
Living Fossil and Genetic Mutation Theories
Some researchers believe that “dragon” isn’t the right term to describe these creatures at all, arguing that they’re likely a living fossil species, or else an extremely recent mutation of some sort of crocodilian, and that speculation regarding the connection between biology and comparative mythology is thusly moot. There are serious flaws in both these theories, however. Neither crocodiles nor any other species ever studied have biological mechanisms for breathing fire or manipulating the elements. Additionally, no samples taken from a dragon have ever yielded testable genetic data, merely returning the genetic equivalent of white noise. This would seem to discredit the Living Fossil and Genetic Mutation theories.
Indicator Species Theory
One of the most compelling theories to emerge in recent years, and the theory that we at The Tannin Foundation think most plausible, is the Indicator Species theory. This theory postulates that dragons, like cicadas, only emerge periodically. Whereas the mechanism for cicadas’ emergence is the simultaneous maturation of nymphs (immature cicadas) after either 13 or 17 years, it’s suggested that the mechanism for the emergence of dragons is rapid climate change, specifically warming.
Proponents of this theory point to the correspondence between the Medieval Warm Period of c. 950-1250 CE and the rise of the dragon in art, mythology, and heraldry across Europe as possible historical evidence of this. The Little Ice Age, a period of gradual cooling which started in Europe around 1500 CE and lasted until the end of the 19th century, marks a period of the decrease dragons in the European consciousness. Could this be more than coincidence and the emergence of science, not legend, as the basis for biological investigation? Or, as Indicator Species theorists speculate, could it be that dragons did, at one time, exist, but that as the climate cooled, they retreated once more?
There are many other examples of the emergence of the “dragon” myth corresponding with a rapid increase in temperature. For a notable example, one need look no further than the Great Bronze Age Collapse of 1177 BCE. Although it was actually caused by the cooling of the surface of the Mediterranean Sea, it brought about the destruction or crippling by drought of several prominent ancient cultures, among them those of the Egyptians, Assyrians, and Babylonians. Two of these cultures—Egypt and Assyria—even had chaotic, apocalyptic deities that took the form of dragons, further underscoring the possibility that dragons and potentially calamitous warming were linked in reality as well as in the human mind. Apophis, bringer of the end of the world in Egyptian religion, was a giant dragon destined to swallow the sun. Tiamat, a goddess in the Mesopotamian pantheon, was a sea dragon who ruled over both creation and chaotic destruction. It’s from Tiamet that the Common Abyssal dragon (one of the original four elementals) gets its Latin name (Draconiforms tiamatis).
Implications
Many conundrums are raised by the Indicator Species theory, but potentially the most compelling is that, although researchers believe that dragons emerge in times of rapid warming (most recently, the rapid, human-driven warming of the last few decades), they are unable to say definitively where they emerge from. It’s unlikely, for example, that they emerge from underground like cicadas—no evidence of escape holes or subterranean egg clutches has ever been found. Likewise, biological genesis as we traditionally understand it in animals seems unlikely—no mating between two dragons has ever been documented, and there is some doubt that dragons even have biological sexes. Eggs simply appear from nowhere.
This, coupled with the fact that all genetic analysis of dragons has—so far—yielded nothing, raises the possibility that we are dealing with an altogether unknown form of life, one that reproduces and functions in ways completely alien to us, while still mimicking characteristics we recognize as animalian, such as bodily symmetry, autonomy, and apparent self-awareness.
Adding to the difficulty facing researchers attempting to unravel the secret of just what, in fact, dragons are is that, the more they are studied, the less consistent and stable their characteristics seem to become. In 2005, when the first dragon studies were begun, there were only four distinct species reported worldwide, each corresponding roughly to one of the four classical elements (fire, water, earth, and air). In the intervening years, that number has more than quadrupled, with dragons trending towards the complex and conceptual in both appearance and abilities.
Dragons have seemed to diversify almost before our eyes—the longer they’ve been studied, the more varied they’ve seemed to become. It’s possible that this is simply due to the fact that we now have a much larger sample size than we did previously. However, given that—prior to 2004—there were no dragons anywhere at all, it seems not altogether implausible to suggest that they’re actually evolving as we watch, although responding to something more esoteric than standard Darwinian evolutionary pressures.
Dragon Eggs and The Problems They Pose
Nowhere is the abstrusity that epitomizes both dragons and the study thereof more distilled and more bewildering than in the dragon egg. As stated above, no proven method for reproduction between dragons exist. Additionally, no recorded observation of egg-laying has been successfully verified nor has any proposed explanation for the appearance of dragon eggs ever been satisfactorily proven. It’s with increasing frustration that researchers are turning to theories of biogenesis previously considered obsolete, most notably spontaneous generation.
This theory—that inanimate matter, such as dust, could give rise to life—was previously thought to have been definitively disproven in the 19th century. However, as conventional scientific thinking on the subject has time and again failed to account for the existence of dragons and dragon eggs, more and more credence is being placed upon this theory, at least as a likely place to begin unraveling what has become a more puzzling egg-based question than the age-old chicken/egg conundrum.
Eggs, Probability Waves, and Biopotentia
Researchers attempting to understand how dragons inherit what seem to be species-specific characteristics without any known reproductive mechanism have many challenges, but one of the most fundamental is that there’s no way even to predict what sort of dragon might emerge from any given egg in a clutch. A clutch in dracozoology refers not to eggs laid together as it does in standard parlance, but to eggs that appear at the same time and in the same location and are therefore presumed to have the same source of genesis.
Dragon eggs have no consistent appearance that can be tied to genetic variation. Apart from being ovoid in shape and generally brightly-colored, there is no standard way an egg “must” look to produce a dragon that we, for lack of a better system of classification, assign to a species. A black-and-red egg and a green-and-blue egg, for example, are both equally likely to give rise to a Common Abyssal hatchling (or any other sort of hatchling). By the same token, two eggs from one clutch that look nearly identical might hatch into dragons of two completely different species. There is simply no way to know what an egg contains until it hatches.
This has led to much speculation as to what, specifically, causes differentiation between dragon species. If no genetic material has ever been successfully extracted, no reproductive mechanism ever documented, and if there’s no indication that physical differences in eggs can help predict the sort of dragon developing within, how can we even say the variation we’re seeing is genetic, or that the diversity we see in dragons is an indication of separate species? What, in fact, determines the sort of dragon that eventually will hatch from an egg if not a genetic code passed on by its parents?
In the last few years, a possible answer has emerged, not from the world of biology, but from the world of quantum physics: the very act of observation is what determines the sort of dragon that hatches.
To understand this conclusion, it’s necessary to take a detour into the world of quantum physics. One of its founding ideas is that of superposition—that is, of a particle existing in many different states of being at once. Together, these possibilities, all equally real, all existing simultaneously (called potentia) create a probability wave. Only when an outcome is measured does the probability wave collapse and one outcome emerge. To quote Werner Heisenberg, one of the fathers of quantum physics, “the transition from the ‘possible’ to the ‘actual’ takes place during the act of observation.”
This is a hopelessly basic and threadbare summary of one of the most important scientific developments of the last century, but it serves to provide a framework with which to understand how observation could begin to have some impact upon the creation of reality. If we think of each dragon species as potentia (in dracozoology, the term biopotentia is more commonly used) and the egg as containing the probability wave formed by these potentia, then upon collapse of the probability wave—the hatching of the egg—the emergence of one single dragon from the shell is caused by observation.
What the Public Dragon-Rearing and Observation Initiative
program is designed to study
The Tannin Foundation has been conducting experiments designed to test the possibility that dragons operate on quantum principles for the last nine months. We have decided to open these investigations to the public in the hopes that more manpower will translate into more datapoints from which we can build a more accurate and complete picture of dragon biology and reproduction.
We’re asking participants to purchase an egg for a small fee (all proceeds from this study go directly into funding further research) and follow the hatching instructions provided with the egg. Upon determining the species of the dragon you’ve hatched, you will be asked to record your age, gender, latitude, longitude, pre-existing medical conditions, and various other pieces of data which will later be used to search for any patterns or correlations between species and observer.
As previously stated, dragons seem to be rapidly diversifying, with verifiable new species appearing roughly every eight months, though the rate seems to be increasing. There is every possibility, therefore, that new dragon species will be discovered by participants in the course of this study. If you think you’ve hatched a dragon variety previously unrecorded, please contact us for further instructions. If confirmed as a new species, you will be allowed to designate its official scientific name and you will be listed on the species’ page on our database.
If you are unsure as to what species your dragon is, please refer to the identification guide.
Introduction
Dragons. Since they first appeared in the early-to-mid-2000s, they’ve captivated the public imagination and set off a frenzy of research initiatives—scientific, historical, and religious.
There are many competing theories—some more plausible than others—as to why dragons began to emerge in biological reality only in the last decade or so, but have existed in the mythology and folklore of almost every culture in the world for millennia. Below are the three that are most commonly accepted in academic circles.
Living Fossil and Genetic Mutation Theories
Some researchers believe that “dragon” isn’t the right term to describe these creatures at all, arguing that they’re likely a living fossil species, or else an extremely recent mutation of some sort of crocodilian, and that speculation regarding the connection between biology and comparative mythology is thusly moot. There are serious flaws in both these theories, however. Neither crocodiles nor any other species ever studied have biological mechanisms for breathing fire or manipulating the elements. Additionally, no samples taken from a dragon have ever yielded testable genetic data, merely returning the genetic equivalent of white noise. This would seem to discredit the Living Fossil and Genetic Mutation theories.
Indicator Species Theory
One of the most compelling theories to emerge in recent years, and the theory that we at The Tannin Foundation think most plausible, is the Indicator Species theory. This theory postulates that dragons, like cicadas, only emerge periodically. Whereas the mechanism for cicadas’ emergence is the simultaneous maturation of nymphs (immature cicadas) after either 13 or 17 years, it’s suggested that the mechanism for the emergence of dragons is rapid climate change, specifically warming.
Proponents of this theory point to the correspondence between the Medieval Warm Period of c. 950-1250 CE and the rise of the dragon in art, mythology, and heraldry across Europe as possible historical evidence of this. The Little Ice Age, a period of gradual cooling which started in Europe around 1500 CE and lasted until the end of the 19th century, marks a period of the decrease dragons in the European consciousness. Could this be more than coincidence and the emergence of science, not legend, as the basis for biological investigation? Or, as Indicator Species theorists speculate, could it be that dragons did, at one time, exist, but that as the climate cooled, they retreated once more?
There are many other examples of the emergence of the “dragon” myth corresponding with a rapid increase in temperature. For a notable example, one need look no further than the Great Bronze Age Collapse of 1177 BCE. Although it was actually caused by the cooling of the surface of the Mediterranean Sea, it brought about the destruction or crippling by drought of several prominent ancient cultures, among them those of the Egyptians, Assyrians, and Babylonians. Two of these cultures—Egypt and Assyria—even had chaotic, apocalyptic deities that took the form of dragons, further underscoring the possibility that dragons and potentially calamitous warming were linked in reality as well as in the human mind. Apophis, bringer of the end of the world in Egyptian religion, was a giant dragon destined to swallow the sun. Tiamat, a goddess in the Mesopotamian pantheon, was a sea dragon who ruled over both creation and chaotic destruction. It’s from Tiamet that the Common Abyssal dragon (one of the original four elementals) gets its Latin name (Draconiforms tiamatis).
Implications
Many conundrums are raised by the Indicator Species theory, but potentially the most compelling is that, although researchers believe that dragons emerge in times of rapid warming (most recently, the rapid, human-driven warming of the last few decades), they are unable to say definitively where they emerge from. It’s unlikely, for example, that they emerge from underground like cicadas—no evidence of escape holes or subterranean egg clutches has ever been found. Likewise, biological genesis as we traditionally understand it in animals seems unlikely—no mating between two dragons has ever been documented, and there is some doubt that dragons even have biological sexes. Eggs simply appear from nowhere.
This, coupled with the fact that all genetic analysis of dragons has—so far—yielded nothing, raises the possibility that we are dealing with an altogether unknown form of life, one that reproduces and functions in ways completely alien to us, while still mimicking characteristics we recognize as animalian, such as bodily symmetry, autonomy, and apparent self-awareness.
Adding to the difficulty facing researchers attempting to unravel the secret of just what, in fact, dragons are is that, the more they are studied, the less consistent and stable their characteristics seem to become. In 2005, when the first dragon studies were begun, there were only four distinct species reported worldwide, each corresponding roughly to one of the four classical elements (fire, water, earth, and air). In the intervening years, that number has more than quadrupled, with dragons trending towards the complex and conceptual in both appearance and abilities.
Dragons have seemed to diversify almost before our eyes—the longer they’ve been studied, the more varied they’ve seemed to become. It’s possible that this is simply due to the fact that we now have a much larger sample size than we did previously. However, given that—prior to 2004—there were no dragons anywhere at all, it seems not altogether implausible to suggest that they’re actually evolving as we watch, although responding to something more esoteric than standard Darwinian evolutionary pressures.
Dragon Eggs and The Problems They Pose
Nowhere is the abstrusity that epitomizes both dragons and the study thereof more distilled and more bewildering than in the dragon egg. As stated above, no proven method for reproduction between dragons exist. Additionally, no recorded observation of egg-laying has been successfully verified nor has any proposed explanation for the appearance of dragon eggs ever been satisfactorily proven. It’s with increasing frustration that researchers are turning to theories of biogenesis previously considered obsolete, most notably spontaneous generation.
This theory—that inanimate matter, such as dust, could give rise to life—was previously thought to have been definitively disproven in the 19th century. However, as conventional scientific thinking on the subject has time and again failed to account for the existence of dragons and dragon eggs, more and more credence is being placed upon this theory, at least as a likely place to begin unraveling what has become a more puzzling egg-based question than the age-old chicken/egg conundrum.
Eggs, Probability Waves, and Biopotentia
Researchers attempting to understand how dragons inherit what seem to be species-specific characteristics without any known reproductive mechanism have many challenges, but one of the most fundamental is that there’s no way even to predict what sort of dragon might emerge from any given egg in a clutch. A clutch in dracozoology refers not to eggs laid together as it does in standard parlance, but to eggs that appear at the same time and in the same location and are therefore presumed to have the same source of genesis.
Dragon eggs have no consistent appearance that can be tied to genetic variation. Apart from being ovoid in shape and generally brightly-colored, there is no standard way an egg “must” look to produce a dragon that we, for lack of a better system of classification, assign to a species. A black-and-red egg and a green-and-blue egg, for example, are both equally likely to give rise to a Common Abyssal hatchling (or any other sort of hatchling). By the same token, two eggs from one clutch that look nearly identical might hatch into dragons of two completely different species. There is simply no way to know what an egg contains until it hatches.
This has led to much speculation as to what, specifically, causes differentiation between dragon species. If no genetic material has ever been successfully extracted, no reproductive mechanism ever documented, and if there’s no indication that physical differences in eggs can help predict the sort of dragon developing within, how can we even say the variation we’re seeing is genetic, or that the diversity we see in dragons is an indication of separate species? What, in fact, determines the sort of dragon that eventually will hatch from an egg if not a genetic code passed on by its parents?
In the last few years, a possible answer has emerged, not from the world of biology, but from the world of quantum physics: the very act of observation is what determines the sort of dragon that hatches.
To understand this conclusion, it’s necessary to take a detour into the world of quantum physics. One of its founding ideas is that of superposition—that is, of a particle existing in many different states of being at once. Together, these possibilities, all equally real, all existing simultaneously (called potentia) create a probability wave. Only when an outcome is measured does the probability wave collapse and one outcome emerge. To quote Werner Heisenberg, one of the fathers of quantum physics, “the transition from the ‘possible’ to the ‘actual’ takes place during the act of observation.”
This is a hopelessly basic and threadbare summary of one of the most important scientific developments of the last century, but it serves to provide a framework with which to understand how observation could begin to have some impact upon the creation of reality. If we think of each dragon species as potentia (in dracozoology, the term biopotentia is more commonly used) and the egg as containing the probability wave formed by these potentia, then upon collapse of the probability wave—the hatching of the egg—the emergence of one single dragon from the shell is caused by observation.
What the Public Dragon-Rearing and Observation Initiative
program is designed to study
The Tannin Foundation has been conducting experiments designed to test the possibility that dragons operate on quantum principles for the last nine months. We have decided to open these investigations to the public in the hopes that more manpower will translate into more datapoints from which we can build a more accurate and complete picture of dragon biology and reproduction.
We’re asking participants to purchase an egg for a small fee (all proceeds from this study go directly into funding further research) and follow the hatching instructions provided with the egg. Upon determining the species of the dragon you’ve hatched, you will be asked to record your age, gender, latitude, longitude, pre-existing medical conditions, and various other pieces of data which will later be used to search for any patterns or correlations between species and observer.
As previously stated, dragons seem to be rapidly diversifying, with verifiable new species appearing roughly every eight months, though the rate seems to be increasing. There is every possibility, therefore, that new dragon species will be discovered by participants in the course of this study. If you think you’ve hatched a dragon variety previously unrecorded, please contact us for further instructions. If confirmed as a new species, you will be allowed to designate its official scientific name and you will be listed on the species’ page on our database.
If you are unsure as to what species your dragon is, please refer to the identification guide.