“how these early human ancestors were related and shared resources...”
They cannot even get the science right. They would not have “shared resources”. They would have competed for resources.
Another, possibly sub-concious, effort to Disneyfy nature.
from the article:
"The question now is not whether Australopithecus afarensis, the species to which the famous Lucy belongs, was the only potential human ancestor species that roamed in what is now the Afar region of Ethiopia during the middle Pliocene, but how these species are related to each other and exploited available resources." marktwain: " 'how these early human ancestors were related and shared resources...'
They cannot even get the science right.
They would not have 'shared resources'.
They would have competed for resources. "
Twice they incorrectly said "shared", but once the quote more accurately says "exploited".
It's important to remember that, these days, the word "species" can mean almost anything.
Consider, for example, Neanderthals -- once thought a separate species or even genus only remotely related to modern humans.
Now we learn from Neanderthal DNA that they were 99% identical to us, and even interbred with modern humans, on occasion.
So they were not a separate genus, they were not even a separate species, they were us.
Today we find remains of various different pre-human "species" living side-by-side in Africa.
How different were they, really?
Could they, did they, interbreed?
Bottom line, we know for sure they were somewhat different from each other.
How different, exactly, is a matter of speculation at this point.
Homo afarensis, homo habilis:
On the subject of Disneyfying nature, aside from the recent alligator incident, I had an interesting observation in Orlando around 35 year ago. There was an island in a lake with big birds including turkey, flamingo, Maribou Stork, and peacocks. I went there 3 times during on week. The first time there was a mother duck with about 25 ducklings swimming in a channel. The second time I was there about 18 young. As I was watching, a Maribou Stork suddenly speared one and ate it. A woman standing nearby yelped in astonishment and said something like, “Oh, no, this is real life that big bird just ate the baby duck.” On my third visit the mother duck had only 11 chicks. These all had the habit of swimming close to their mother, unlike the first time I saw them when they were scattered over a fair distance.
The Haile-Selassie referred to was no doubt a younger relative. I seem to recall reading that a son or grandson had become a paleontologist or archaeologist.