The Y factor

There was disturbing news from the scientific community a few years back. Researchers were telling us that the “Y” chromosome — the part of the gene pair that makes men men, or “XY” as opposed to “XX” — was disappearing.

As in getting smaller and smaller. Experiencing shrinkage. Whittling down over eons of evolution, until man’s very defining characteristics might someday (gulp!) cease to exist.

It was in a 2002 Nature magazine article that two Australian researchers first published data on the withering Y chromosome and estimated that it — and we men — would “self-destruct in around 10 million years.”

That was a buzz kill, for sure.

The “XX” chromosome pair held by women meanwhile has continued to grow and thrive, and eventually plans to have its own talk show.

Many women, for some reason, found this disturbing scientific news hysterically funny. “Aha! Finally! Proof that men are useless!” they cackled.

Well, now we men can cackle back. Except we won’t, because cackling isn’t manly. So we’ll just snort brutishly and say: Chillax. The “Y” isn’t going anywhere.

Scientists at the Whitehead Institute in Cambridge, Massachusetts now have proof that the theory of the “rotting Y chromosome” is pure bunkum. They have been laboring over the past 10 years to disprove the earlier theory, because many of them are men, and they don’t like the idea of disappearing. And they don’t have tenure.

So the scientists decided to take a look at the Y chromosome sequence of a rhesus macaque monkey from 25 million years ago, just at the point of evolution where it diverged from what would later become men and chimpanzees. It turns out that the rhesus Y chromosome back then was pretty much the same as modern man’s Y chromosome.

This means that, even 25 million years ago, the rhesus Y chromosome would refuse to ask for directions, leave the toilet seat up, and sniff-test shirts before putting them on.

Yay! Guys haven’t changed a bit!

This is somehow comforting and disturbing at the same time.

Actually, though the research by Whitehead director David Page does stick a fork in the “rotting Y chromosome” theory, it also raises other interesting points about the nature of those Y and X chromosomes. Page appeared on The Colbert Report recently to demonstrate how our Y chromosome keeps tenaciously hanging on to the X by a thread, despite our apparently diminished state. He held up one elongated plastic tube — the “X” — and fastened it (with a scrungy) to a much smaller “Y” plastic tube. What was interesting is that he said the X has grown in complexity and value by “sharing” its genetic information, something the Y chromosome stubbornly refuses to do.

It’s true. Ladies, just ask any Y chromosome-bearing entity you happen to date or live with if he wants to “share” about his day, his feelings, his life, or even the TV remote. “Sharing” is something the Y chromosome, despite 25 million years of evolution and indoctrination, never really warmed up to. Because the Y chromosome has not learned to share its information, it has, in fact, whittled down considerably over the eons. But not entirely. We’re basically stuck in the past. It’s like we’re Version 1.0 in a 2.0 world. Like we’re still using Windows 86 and refusing to update. Like never even bothering to check out Facebook Timeline.

But despite this, Page says our old friend Mr. Y will never actually disappear. “This paper simply destroys the idea of the disappearing Y chromosome,” he told UPI, not even bothering to hide his smug grin. “I challenge anyone to argue when confronted with this data.”

Instead of fading away, the Y chromosome appears to have “plateaued,” and will continue doing exactly as it’s been doing — that is, pretty much nothing — just as most modern men have learned to get by doing as little as possible with their free time. Except now we have thumbs so we can play X-Box.

So what has man learned, over 25 million years since the early rhesus macaques realized their Y chromosome was a useless adornment, equivalent to a pre-homo sapiens pinkie ring?

We have learned to find comfort in the status quo, the soothing flow of inertia.

We have learned to hang in there.

Yup. The Dude abides.