John Gordon is a Senior Experience Developer at the Science Museum of Minnesota. While enjoying a recent lunch break, he realized that “eating at the museum” is only a couple letters away from “eaten at the museum.” Whoa.
It’s the spooky season and, as to be expected, my thoughts have turned to pumpkin carving, costumes, candy, and being eaten alive by monsters. And the Science Museum is full of beasts, bugs, and skeletons, all waiting for a taste. So come with me on my first annual “Could it eat me?” tour of the museum.
The creature: Tyrannosaurus rex
Could it eat me? There’s some debate around whether the T. rex was primarily a hunter (attacking live prey) or a scavenger (feasting on dead meat), so whether or not it would eat me alive may be an open question. But, look, paleontologists have estimated that T. rex’s bite force may have exceeded 35,000 newtons (about 7900 pounds-force). Scientists have also measured the force it takes to crush a human femur at only 4,000 newtons. I’ve lived my life assuming my thighs were uncrushable, but life, uh, finds a way.
10/10. Would absolutely house me.
Where is it? The lobby has a full mount replica of a T. rex and a skull with moving jaws.
The creature: Titanoboa
Could it eat me? Also known (by me) as the boa conthicctor, the Titanoboa is a giant boidae snake (the family that includes anacondas and boa constrictors). It went extinct more than 50 million years ago, so the risk of it eating me is very small. But could it have? Paleontologists relied on its fossilized vertebrae, ribs, teeth, and parts of its skull to estimate its size, so we’re not completely certain how big it was, but most estimates put it well over 40 feet. Some researchers think it ate crocodilians, some think it ate fish, and I think it could eat me.
9.5/10. I’m deducting a half point in case it’s a pescatarian.
Where is it? Find a full-size life reconstruction in the lobby.
The creature: Flesh-eating beetles
Could it eat me? You know that part in Brendan Frasier’s The Mummy (1999), when flesh-eating scarabs swarm Beni Gabor and then, you know, eat his flesh? The museum’s flesh-eating beetles … aren’t really like that. These little dermestid beetles just chomp on hair and flesh from animals that are already dead. They’re great decomposers, and our Collections Department uses them to clean skeletons. File under “Helpful” not “Harmful.”
1/10. They get 1 point just in case I were to a) fall asleep in their tank and b) die there. But I probably won’t do that. The fortune teller said I would die in Toronto.
Where is it? Find them on Level 3 of the museum—they’re behind a window near the entrance to the auditorium.
The creature: Megalodon
Could it eat me? It’s right there in the name: “mega” meaning “big,” and “odon” meaning “tooth.” Put them together, and you get “megalodon,” or “huge teeth for eating guys who are just trying to swim and stuff.” The megalodon is an extinct genus of shark that probably looked a little like its living cousin the great white shark. But it was bigger than the great white. Much bigger. Sharks don’t fossilize well (they’re mostly cartilage, not bone) so we don’t have a full skeleton to study, but most paleontologists estimate megalodon’s size at somewhere between 35 and 55 feet. If that leaves you with any doubt about the megalodon’s ability to eat me, check out our collection of their teeth. They are large and sharp and each one has my name written on it.
7/10. I’m taking away 3 points because I am able to walk around on land, a region where you are largely safe from sharks. But I gotta swim at some point.
Where is it? There’s a case of real megalodon teeth in the Dinosaurs & Fossils Gallery on Level 3. You can also find life-size replicas in the Explore Store if you want to take one of these terrifying reminders of our impermanence (and palatability) home.
The creature: Rhinoceros
Could it eat me? The average black rhino weighs up to 3,000 pounds, sports a two-foot-long horn on its nose, and has no natural predators. They are dangerous animals! But being stabbed and crushed is not the same thing as being eaten. African rhino species don’t even have incisors (the chisel-like teeth you have in the front of your mouth), so they have to pluck at food with their lips. Pathetic. Plus, they don’t actually eat meat. (To be fair, a rhinoceros ate James’s parents in the novel James and the Giant Peach. But I think that rhino might have been a metaphor, and metaphors can only consume you metaphorically. Plus, I don’t think peaches even get that big in real life, so the whole thing is suspect.)
0/10. I imagine this thing smashing me flat and poking me full of holes, but also I’ve got a big smile on my swiss-cheese-slice face. I’m just smiling, smiling, smiling because I know I’m not going to be eaten.
Where is it? Check out a lifelike, full-size model of a black rhino in the Skin exhibit, currently on Level 4.
The creature: Bears. Specifically, the biggest bears: brown bears and polar bears.
Could it eat me? Buddy, I wish a bear would try and eat me. I knew a guy in college who had survived a bear attack, and he was a hit at parties. He’d show off his scars, and I’d be like, “Yeah, but here’s the mark where I scraped my tummy at the waterslides when I was eleven. Hello?” Whatever. The point is, it’s bad news if a bear gets you in its mouth, and you’re lucky and attractive if you can get away. Fortunately, bear attacks aren’t all that common. A study published by the National Institutes of Health counted only 53 fatal brown bear attacks in the whole world between 2000 and 2015. Another study found that there were just 20 fatal polar bear attacks between 1870 and 2014. How many of those people were actually eaten was not stated, but it seems clear that bears could eat me if they wanted to.
5/10. Bears could eat me. But the odds are in my favor.
Where is it?: On Level 3 near the elevator, you’ll find a brown bear and a polar bear. When the museum closes, they talk about their favorite foods (fish and seals), their least favorite foods (tomato aspic and rice cakes), and foods they only sort of like (me).
There are plenty more dangerous beasts at the science museum, but I have to go work on my Halloween costume now. (The costume is a secret, but here’s a hint: You’ve never seen Harry Potter look so old and tired.) So come check them out yourself. What’s eating you up?
