Lamar no like science!

It is a minor mystery why someone would volunteer for a job (s)he is clearly unqualified to do.

For example, I would not volunteer for my school district's Technology Advisory Committee.  My prehistoric understanding of technology is legendary in my school.  My general approach to computers is, "Thag push 'on' button."  If that doesn't work, my reaction is, "Thag no like!  Thag hit computer with rock!"

So any input I might have about advancing our school's technology program would be more or less meaningless, unless it involved making sure each classroom came equipped with a rock.

The whole thing comes up because of the House Committee on Science, Space, and Technology.  Because it seems to me like this committee -- which, by the name, you would think is comprised of people who are well-versed in science -- is largely populated by people who would make the aforementioned Thag look like a Rhodes Scholar.

First, we have Dana Rohrabacher (R-CA), a climate change denier who referred to the findings of 97% of the world's climate scientists as "liberal claptrap."  About the issue, he made the following baffling statement:

Once again those with a global agenda have created a straw man by misrepresenting the position of their critics. I do not believe that CO2 is a cause of global warming, nor have I ever advocated the reduction of CO2 through the clearing of rainforests or cutting down older trees to prevent global warming.

In what pretend world would scientists suggest clearing rainforests to combat global warming?  This is either a straw man about straw men, or it's just idiotic.

Then there's Randy Weber (R-TX), whose lack of understanding of basic science led him to say, "I just don’t know how you all prove those theories going back 50 or 100,000 or even millions of years."  Really, Representative Weber?  You could fix that, you know.

By taking a damn science class.

How about Bill Posey (R-FL)?  He's another climate change denier, whose idea of a scientifically-sound argument goes like this:

I remember in the ’70s, that [cooling] was the threat, the fear.  I’ve read that during the period of the dinosaurs, that the Earth’s temperature was 30° warmer.  Does that seem fathomable to you?

The "period of the dinosaurs?"  Oh, you mean that span of time that lasted 200 million years, and during which there were numerous climatic ups and downs, including at least one ice age?  Perhaps you're referring to the Cretaceous Thermal Maximum, in which the average sea surface maximum temperature seems to have been a whopping five degrees warmer than it is today.

Or perhaps you're just a moron.

Then there's Paul Broun (R-GA), who famously referred to evolution as "lies straight from the pit of hell," and that the Earth was created "in six days as we know them."  Of course, Broun is now a lame duck, but he was replaced by Jody Hice (in congress if not necessarily on the Science Committee).  Hice, if anything, may be worse.  He is not only a creationist and a climate change denier, he believes that "homosexuality enslaves people," that women could hold political office "if it's within the authority of her husband," and that "blood moons" -- better known to actual astronomers as lunar eclipses -- could be omens that signal "world-changing events."

And, of course, the whole committee is under the leadership of Lamar Smith (R-TX), who laments the the latest report by the IPCC (Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change) "says nothing new" in its statement that "severe, pervasive and irreversible impacts for people and ecosystems will occur if humanity keeps its carbon emissions on a business-as-usual course."

[image courtesy of the Wikimedia Commons]

Exactly, Representative Smith.  Exactly.  It says precisely what all of the other scientific reports from the past ten years have said.  And the scientists wouldn't have to say the same fucking thing over and over if people like you would listen.

I'm not nearly well-versed enough in the machinations of politics to get how people like this could end up leading science policy in the United States.  My suspicious side can't shuck the niggling feeling that it's a deliberate disinformation campaign, designed to keep gullible and/or poorly-educated voters in a state of ignorance about how science works.  It's possible, of course, that these lamebrains are simply an example of the Peter Principle -- the idea that in the business world, people keep getting promoted until they finally find themselves in a job they have no idea how to do, and then they stay there forever.

Whatever the cause, one thing is clear, though.

Lamar no like science.  Lamar hit science with rock.

Vietnamese mystery rocks, and the fear of admitting ignorance

Yesterday I ran across a story that is mostly remarkable because of the last paragraph.

Entitled "Odd Rock Covered in Unidentified Hieroglyphics Rumored to Cast Spells," the article was written by Dana Newkirk, and appeared in an online compendium of "Forteana" called Who Forted?  (The "Fort" references, for those of you unfamiliar with this peculiar little slice of Americana, come from Charles Fort, an iconic figure in the investigation of the paranormal and "anomalous phenomena" in the early 20th century.)

Anyhow, the story starts off in an ordinary fashion, for this sort of thing.  We hear about a large rock in Vietnam, covered with carvings, that was donated to the Thuong Temple in Phu Tho in 2009.  Of course, as you might expect, it isn't the anthropological or linguistic significance of the artifact that is the point of interest here; there's got to be something weird going on with said rock, and in short order we find out that the residents of Phu Tho think the rock has "the ability to cast a strange enchantment," and are staying away from the temple because they're afraid of it.

As far as what the carvings mean -- or even how old they are -- that's unknown.  "Unfortunately not much else is known about the strange rock or the ancient symbols covering its entire surface," Newkirk writes.  "Currently the province is compiling a scientific committee with the intention of studying the strange rock with the hopes of finding some answers regarding where it came from and what the strange markings might mean."

Okay.  So far, we've got a mystery rock and some superstitious people in a remote country.  Neither one is a rare commodity, and would certainly not warrant a mention by themselves.  But here's how Newkirk wraps up her article:

So, what the heck is it? A star map? Some kind of tool? Or is it just some really bored guy [sic] a few hundred years ago? We want to know what you think! Share your thoughts with us on our Facebook page, tweet us @WhoForted, or leave a comment below!

I'm pretty sure she meant "was it really just made by some bored guy a few hundred years ago," not that the rock itself was a fossilized person, but even that's not the point.  When I read the last paragraph, my immediate response was, "Why on earth is what I think even remotely relevant?"  I know nothing whatsoever about the "odd rock" except what Newkirk just told me; I can't find any mention of it anywhere except in Who Forted?  I know zilch about Southeast Asian archaeology, history, and linguistics.  My opinion on this topic would be completely worthless.

And yet, I'm sure that Newkirk will be inundated with opinions from ignorant individuals like myself.  Because -- and I have the sense that this problem is especially bad here in the United States -- everyone thinks it's their god-given right to have an opinion about everything, and to trumpet that opinion from the rooftops, regardless of how little in the way of facts they might know about the issue at hand.

I find this whole thing intensely irritating, because I run into it almost on a daily basis.  For example, just a couple of weeks ago, I was asked by a friend, "What do you think the federal government should do about the sequester?"  I responded, "I have no idea.  I don't know nearly enough about economics or politics to weigh in."  My friend frowned and laughed at the same time and said, "Come on.  You must have some kind of opinion."

No, actually I don't.  And if I did, it wouldn't mean anything.  I'm pretty aware of the topics about which I am ignorant, and I try my hardest not to pretend I'm well-informed about them; and I don't have any particular problem with saying, even to my students, "I don't know the answer to that."  (In my classes, I usually follow it up with, "... but I'll look into it and see if I can find an answer for you.")  But I find that a lot of people are acutely uncomfortable with admitting ignorance, and feel the need to have an opinion on topics for which they should simply withhold judgment until they actually know what they're talking about.

I wonder if perhaps this is one of the negative outcomes of living in a representative democracy.  We have a "one person, one vote" system, in which my vote and the vote of the greatest genius in the country have exactly the same weight and the same effect on the outcome.  (Which, honestly, I am all in favor of.)  But this has the untoward consequence of giving people the impression that because every person's vote is worth the same amount, everyone's opinion is worth the same amount.  Which it clearly is not.  To make it even more obvious: if I were to talk to Stephen Hawking, and I were to say, "Professor Hawking, let me tell you what my views are on quantum physics," he would not be obliged to listen to me, and in fact would be well within his rights to tell me to piss off.  Democracy is a lovely model for governance,  but makes no sense at all when it comes to ideas.

Unfortunately, this whole thing pervades our thought processes all the way to the top, and is why we have people like Governor Bobby Jindal of Louisiana and Representative Paul Broun of Georgia blathering on about how evolution is "unproven" and "controversial," even though from their comments it's pretty evident that they haven't the vaguest idea what they're talking about.  And I find this especially appalling given that both men have reasonably decent science backgrounds -- Jindal has a B.S. in biology from Brown University, and Broun a medical degree from the Medical College of Georgia, so they should both know better.  Despite that, in the stories I linked (which you should definitely check out), Jindal says that creationism should be taught in public schools because we want kids exposed to "the best facts" and "the best science."  Broun was even more blunt, calling evolution "lies straight from the pit of hell."

Can anyone tell me why either of these men's opinions is in the least relevant, when they evidently have no knowledge about the topic upon which they are expounding?

So no, I won't tell you my opinion about the sequester, or about the Vietnamese mystery rock.  It wouldn't mean anything if I did.  And I might be prone to a lot of mistakes, but bloviating on a subject about which I am ignorant is one I try my best to avoid.

This always reminds me of the wonderful quote by Isaac Asimov, which seems a fitting way to end this post:

An open letter to religious Americans

Dear Religious People of the United States,

It's finally happened.  I've actually become really angry, and that takes a lot.

I'm not angry about your beliefs.  You are free to devote yourself to any faith you want.  I realize that there are atheists who would like to dictate to you what you can believe, who would like to change your mind for you if you're unwilling to change it yourself, but I am not one of those.  You will never get any quarrel out of me over how you spend your Sundays (or Saturdays, or whatever day you prefer to worship).

What I am angry about is the fact that the vast majority of you seem content to let narrow-minded bigots and blowhards be your spokespeople.  Men and women make statements in public forums that would be (rightly) shouted down if they were generated by any other source than the majority religion; statements that marginalize those who don't share those beliefs, which question the intelligence, patriotism, and (even) the right to citizenship of those who dissent.  And hardly a squeak of criticism is voiced.

Let's start with Sally Quinn's piece in the Washington Post, entitled "Romney Captures the God Vote at First Debate."  Responding to Governor Romney's statement that all Americans are "children of the same God," Quinn writes, "This is a religious country. Part of claiming your citizenship is claiming a belief in God, even if you are not Christian.. We’ve got the Creator in our Declaration of Independence. We’ve got 'In God We Trust' on our coins. We’ve got 'one nation under God' in our Pledge of Allegiance. And we say prayers in the Senate and the House of Representatives to God...  Up until now, the idea of being American and believing in God were synonymous."

I beg your pardon?

For one thing, Ms. Quinn, you don't know your history.  The addition of "... one nation, under God" to the Pledge of Allegiance occurred in 1954, "to acknowledge the dependence of our people and our Government upon … the Creator … [and] deny the atheistic and materialistic concept of communism."  "In God We Trust" was added to coinage in 1955, and became the official motto of the United States a year later.  Yes, the United States has been a majority Christian nation since its founding; but it has been only sixty years since the movement to make Christian belief a sine qua non for being a "real American" began.

Oh, and while we're quoting from US law, documents, and history, Ms. Quinn, perhaps I should remind you of Article VI, paragraph 3 of the United States Constitution, wherein it states, "No religious test shall ever be required as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States."

The deeper problem here is that Quinn and others like her seem unwilling to acknowledge that the face of America is changing.  Atheists and agnostics are making up an increasingly large slice of the American citizenry.  A poll in 2004 found that 9% of respondents claimed "no religion;" a similar poll in 2008 saw the same demographic jump to 15%.  You may not like it, but atheists and agnostics are increasing in strength, numbers, and willingness to speak up against the kind of bigoted nonsense Quinn and others have claimed.

My disavowal of a deity has nothing whatsoever to do with my devotion to my country, its people, or its laws.   And it would be nice if some of the religious people in the United States would recognize that fact, and remind the officials they elected that the bully pulpit of American politics should never be used to ramrod religious beliefs (or disbelief, for that matter) down the throats of the American public.  It would be damn near a miracle if some of you would tell people like Representative Paul Broun (R-GA) to shut up and sit down.  Broun, you may have heard, is the politician who recently told a group of his constituents, "All that stuff I was taught about evolution and embryology and the Big Bang Theory, all that is lies straight from the pit of Hell.  And it’s lies to try to keep me and all the folks who were taught that from understanding that they need a savior...  What I’ve come to learn is that (the bible) is the manufacturer’s handbook, is what I call it.  It teaches us how to run our lives individually, how to run our families, how to run our churches. But it teaches us how to run all of public policy and everything in society.  And that’s the reason as your congressman I hold the holy Bible as being the major directions to me of how I vote in Washington, D.C., and I’ll continue to do that."  [Source]

You know what?  I'd do that for you, religious people of America.  If one of my fellow atheists started campaigning to have religion outlawed, to have freedom of belief suspended, to have churches closed, I would stand up on your behalf.  If one of us said, "You can't be a true American unless you're an atheist," I would shout him down.  A politician who stated that 'atheism teaches us how to run all of public policy and everything in society' would be, in my opinion, unfit for office.  No one has the right to tell another person how to settle a matter of conscience, and that includes what higher power, if any, to believe in.

I'm issuing a challenge to you.  We have enough divisive hate-speech in this country right now.  Partisan politics has become the flavor-of-the-month, and the flames are being fanned by media.  It's time for this to end.  Religion has no place in government, just as government has no place in religion.  Stand up for the commonalities that unite us all -- love of country, support of the rule of law, dedication to freedom of speech and freedom of belief. 

Be willing to say, "You know what?  The fact that I share your religious beliefs doesn't give you the right to question in my presence the morals, ethics, or patriotism of those who don't."

Be willing to challenge those who have already stopped listening to the likes of me, who have already decided that everything I say "is lies straight from the pit of Hell."

Be willing to stand up for the religious tolerance that the founders of this country wrote into law when they framed the Constitution.

Your silence just makes the fissures that divide this country wider.  And it is time for that silence to end.

sincerely,

Gordon (your fellow American citizen)