Joana Wagner
©Joana Wagner
Student Grant
Uni­ver­si­ty of JenaBio­geo­sci­en­ces

Joana Jodie Wagner

«It is only under the mi­cro­scope that you can see the wonders held in a se­di­ment sample»

Ost­ra­cods open windows into the past: From their tiny cal­ca­re­ous shells, Joana Wagner reads how seas warmed, gla­ciers melted, and eco­sys­tems changed. Her re­se­arch on Arctic se­di­ment cores helps us un­der­stand what once shaped the polar regions—and what threa­tens them today.

Ost­ra­cods are small crustace­ans with a cara­pace that re­sem­bles a bivalve shell. They have been around since the Ordovici­an Period, in other words, for nearly half a billion years. Their cal­ci­fied cara­pace stores che­mi­cal signals of past en­vi­ron­men­tal changes that we can analyze using geo­che­mi­cal methods. For my ba­che­lor’s dis­ser­ta­ti­on, I re­se­ar­ched ost­ra­cods in a se­di­ment core taken from the Arctic Ocean north of Sval­bard in Norway. The core is 4.62 meters long and its deepest layers date back 16,300 years, co­vering the entire period from the end of the last ice age to our current in­ter­gla­ci­al period.

It is only under the mi­cro­scope that you can see the wonders held in a se­di­ment sample like this.

Joana Wagner

A team of geo­lo­gists has already used it to re­con­struct the se­di­ment origin, ocean flows, and water tem­pe­ra­tu­re to gain a better un­der­stan­ding of the dy­na­mics of glacier melt at the end of the last ice age. Thanks to the ost­ra­cods, I was able to confirm these cal­cu­la­ti­ons. I took se­di­ment samples from the core at ten-cen­ti­me­ter in­ter­vals and iden­ti­fied and ana­ly­zed the ost­ra­cod cara­paces under the mi­cro­scope. Species com­po­si­ti­on reveals a lot about en­vi­ron­men­tal con­di­ti­ons at the time. Some species prefer colder water; others are more or less to­le­rant to low oxygen levels, or sen­si­ti­ve to ocean flows.

Our work is crea­ting an im­portant basis for future eco­sys­tem and climate mo­de­ling.

Joana Wagner

I also ana­ly­zed the cara­paces. The ratios of stable iso­to­pes in them provide in­for­ma­ti­on about ma­te­ri­al ex­chan­ge with the sur­roun­ding water and the tem­pe­ra­tu­re on the ocean floor. When oxygen isotope ratios are low, it means there was a massive influx of fresh water at that time – from melting gla­ciers.

The Sval­bard region is cur­r­ent­ly warming four to six times faster than other areas. What is hap­pe­ning there now could happen in other parts of the Arctic in 20 to 40 years’ time. Re­con­struc­ting the past is key to gaining a better un­der­stan­ding of these de­ve­lop­ments. This means our work is crea­ting an im­portant basis for future eco­sys­tem and climate mo­de­ling. 

I have been drawn to the polar regions for as long as I can re­mem­ber. As a child on skiing ho­li­days – sur­roun­ded by snow and ice – I would read books about the animals of the Arctic and Ant­arc­tic. I wanted to help polar bears and pen­gu­ins have a “good life”. That’s why I started out stu­dy­ing ve­te­ri­na­ry me­di­ci­ne. But working with in­di­vi­du­al “pa­ti­ents” was not enough – I wanted to un­der­stand the roots of the pro­blems. This is how I came to in­ter­di­sci­pli­na­ry bio­geo­sci­en­ces.

My fa­vo­ri­te ost­ra­cod is cur­r­ent­ly Ra­bi­li­mis mi­ra­bi­lis. Its name sounds like a spell, but if these ost­ra­cods are present in large numbers, it is an in­di­ca­ti­on that a Hein­rich event has oc­cur­red. This is when giant ice­bergs break off from gla­ciers.

Joana Wagner

Ost­ra­cods are still found ever­y­whe­re to this day – in ground­wa­ter, in the smal­lest puddles, and even in wet grass­lands. By stu­dy­ing them, we can see the extent to which human ac­tivi­ty causes water pol­lu­ti­on. The ost­ra­cod cara­pace is sen­si­ti­ve to pol­lut­ants and can, for example, be de­for­med by heavy metals. We can see this under the mi­cro­scope.

For my master’s dis­ser­ta­ti­on, I want to take a closer look at the human impact on the Nor­we­gi­an fjords. Using ost­ra­cods, I hope to in­crea­se our un­der­stan­ding of how these regions are re­ac­ting to climate change and to an­thro­po­ge­nic in­flu­en­ces, such as pol­lu­ti­on and me­cha­ni­cal dis­tur­ban­ce. In the long term, I would like to help es­tab­lish ost­ra­cods more firmly as in­di­ca­tors of change in polar regions, so that such changes can be iden­ti­fied sooner and as­ses­sed on a sounder basis.

Joana Wagner
©Joana Wagner

Joana Wagner studied ve­te­ri­na­ry me­di­ci­ne at the Uni­ver­si­ty of Leipzig, before moving to the Uni­ver­si­ty of Jena for studies in the bio­geo­sci­en­ces. She is cur­r­ent­ly pre­pa­ring for her master’s dis­ser­ta­ti­on on Arctic and Ant­arc­tic mi­cro­fos­sils in the pa­le­on­to­lo­gy re­se­arch group there. Wagner is in­vol­ved in the As­so­cia­ti­on of Polar Early Career Sci­en­tists (APECS) and ad­vo­ca­tes for the im­por­t­an­ce of science com­mu­ni­ca­ti­on on various uni­ver­si­ty com­mit­tees. She re­cei­ved a Wübben Stif­tung Wis­sen­schaft Student Grant in 2024/25.

Curious Minds Ques­ti­onn­aire

«There is still so much left to dis­co­ver»

In our Curious Minds series, we in­tro­du­ce former Wübben Stif­tung student grant re­ci­pi­ents who are boldly forging their own paths.

1

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Who/what encouraged your curiosity the most?

In short: my deep and active time in nature as a child. Whether it was camping and waking up at sunrise over a fjord, gently petting moun­tain goats, or collec­ting rocks and pineco­nes in the forest — those moments shaped me pro­found­ly.

Each member of my family cared deeply about en­su­ring that my brother and I spent as much time out­doors as pos­si­ble. We ex­plo­red nature with the natural cu­rio­si­ty that child­ren have when you simply allow them the space to follow it. Thank­ful­ly, we learned to carry that cu­rio­si­ty with us into adult­hood.

2

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What's one thing you wish everyone knew about your studies?

As a student of Bio­geo­sci­en­ces, I wish more people un­ders­tood that Earth func­tions as one in­ter­con­nec­ted system — and that we can only truly un­der­stand its pro­ces­ses when we study them in­ter­di­sci­pli­na­ri­ly and as a whole. Fo­cu­sing on a single di­sci­pli­ne while igno­ring other in­flu­en­cing factors does not help us un­der­stand our planet. Only by seeing the in­ter­ac­tions between biology, geology, che­mi­stry, climate, etc. can we grasp how Earth ac­tual­ly works.

3

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What unexpected paths have you taken during your studies?

My aca­de­mic path started out very strai­ght­for­ward. I grew up with a strong desire to help and protect the animal world, so stu­dy­ing Ve­te­ri­na­ry Me­di­ci­ne felt like the natural and obvious choice — a dream that stayed with me throughout my entire child­hood. But during the final years of that degree, I rea­li­zed that to truly help animals and nature as a whole, I needed a far more in­ter­di­sci­pli­na­ry un­der­stan­ding. I wanted to un­der­stand pro­blems at their origin — within eco­sys­tems, climate, geology, and bio­lo­gi­cal in­ter­ac­tions — and to address them where they ac­tual­ly begin. So after com­ple­ting my state ex­ami­na­ti­on, I made the de­cisi­on to pursue a Ba­che­lor’s in Bio­geo­sci­en­ces. It was a path that several people advised me not to take, but for­tu­n­a­te­ly, I trusted my in­tui­ti­on. Looking back, it was exactly the right de­cisi­on and led me onto the path that truly fits me.

4

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What do you wish you had known before starting your studies?

What I do wish I had un­ders­tood earlier about myself as a student is the im­por­t­an­ce of trus­ting my own in­tui­ti­on and knowing that things will even­tual­ly fall into place. I think many young people, es­pe­ci­al­ly those just star­ting uni­ver­si­ty, are still growing, unsure of them­sel­ves, and fi­gu­ring out who they are. In those moments, the exact content of the degree is often far less im­portant than al­lo­wing yours­elf to listen to your inner compass. So, what I wish I had known before star­ting my studies is simply this: in the end, it will all work out.

5

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How could your field of study help make the world a better place?

I can con­fi­dent­ly say that my field of study not only has the po­ten­ti­al to make the world a better place — it is already doing so. By res­to­ring eco­sys­tems af­fec­ted by past de­cisi­ons, by con­tri­bu­ting to our un­der­stan­ding of climate change, and by helping to address bio­di­ver­si­ty loss from a mul­ti­di­sci­pli­na­ry per­spec­tive, Bio­geo­sci­en­ces plays an active role in shaping a healt­hi­er future. And I am in­credi­b­ly proud that through my work, I get to be a part of that.

6

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What do you hope science will look like in the future?

In a sci­en­ti­fic world where ever-smaller and more spe­cia­li­zed re­se­arch niches are being oc­cu­pied — much like eco­lo­gi­cal niches in nature — it is be­co­m­ing in­crea­singly dif­fi­cult for in­di­vi­du­als not to be out­com­pe­ted by others in their own field. What I hope for the future of science is that we begin to re­co­gni­ze that there is space for ever­yo­ne, and that there is still so much left to dis­co­ver. Sci­en­ti­fic life would be far more ful­fil­ling if we focused less on com­pe­ti­ti­on and far more on sym­bio­sis, col­la­bo­ra­ti­on, and lifting each other up.

7

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What was the last topic that made you forget the time?

Ho­nest­ly, almost every time I sit at the mi­cro­scope to analyse se­di­ments for mi­cro­fos­sils, I lose all sense of time. I dive into a com­ple­te­ly dif­fe­rent uni­ver­se — a mi­cro­ver­se — that unfolds like a natural ka­lei­do­scope. There is so much to dis­co­ver there, a di­men­si­on where time seems to move in an en­t­i­re­ly dif­fe­rent way.

8

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If your curiosity had a sound – what would it be?

It can be de­scri­bed in just a few words: the whisper of the Arctic Ocean. Or, more pre­cise­ly: the rush of cold, harsh wind swee­ping across the frozen surface of sea ice, car­ry­ing tiny ice crystals like needles; the gentle grin­ding of pancake ice floes as they collide and form perfect rounded edges; the calls of Nort­hern Fulmars fol­lo­wing the RV Helmer Hanssen, hoping for scraps from the fi­she­ries; the deep, re­so­nant cracking of ice brea­king under the weight of the ship — a sound so power­ful it start­les you awake in the forward cabin. And then, driven by pure, child­li­ke cu­rio­si­ty, you find yours­elf heading to the bridge to watch how the ship carves its path toward the North Pole.

9

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What did you always want to know as a child?

As a child, I always won­de­red: if the most im­pres­si­ve and won­der­ful animals in the world — pen­gu­ins, hump­back whales, polar bears — choose the polar regions as their home, then those places must be truly special. What does it feel like to live there?

10

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What question would you ask every person if you could?

What is your fa­vou­rite animal — and why?