Stars, darts, and basketballs

For those of you who are still reeling from finding out that you are not the astrological sign you thought you were, take some comfort in a study by David McCandless.

McCandless, who evidently has the patience of a saint, analyzed 22,168 horoscopes.  His contention was that if there were anything to astrology, there should be a statistically significant difference between the content of horoscopes for the twelve (or thirteen, depending on who you believe) astrological signs.  Using computer software, he first filtered out common and relatively meaning-free words like "and" and "the," and then arranged the remaining words on a wheel-diagram.  The size of the word on the diagram represents its relative frequency.  Check it out here.

As you can see, there is no difference whatsoever between the different signs.  "Feel," "sure," "love," "keep," and "better," are the most common words on all of the signs.  In fact, McCandless has out-horoscoped the astrologers, and has come up with a generic, all-purpose horoscope that anyone, of any sign, could read every day, and accomplish much the same thing as the "real" ones:

"Whatever the situation or secret moment, enjoy everything a lot.  Feel able to absolutely care.  Expect nothing else.  Keep making love.  Family and friends matter.  The world is life, fun, and energy.  Maybe hard.  Or easy.  Taking exactly enough is best.  Help and talk to others.  Change your mind and a better mood comes along."


Wow... I feel so... enlightened.   This especially speaks to me, being that I was a Scorpio and now am a Virgo.

It puts me in mind of a now-famous demonstration James Randi did in a high school classroom.  (You can see a video of it here.)  He gave out horoscopes to the students, and told them that they were predictions based upon detailed information about the time and place of their birth.  Each student was given time to read the horoscopes, and then asked to grade them on a scale of one to five, the score being assigned based upon how accurate it was, how well it applied to each of them personally.

The results were amazing.  There was not a single student who gave their horoscope a grade of one or two; there was a single three; everyone else graded it at a four or five, with five being by far the most common score.  So on the face of it, it seems like astrology fared pretty well, in this experiment.

Until you find out that all of the horoscopes were identical.

Astrology relies on an observational phenomenon called dart-thrower's bias -- something to which we are all prone.  The name comes from a thought experiment; picture yourself in a pub, having a nice pint of Guinness with your friends, chatting about whatever.  In the corner is a dartboard, and several bar patrons, all strangers to you, are having a friendly game of darts.

The question is:  when do you notice the darts game?

The answer, of course, is:  when one of the players scores a bullseye.  Or, perhaps, misses the dartboard entirely and skewers the bartender in the forehead.  The point is, we have evolved to notice outliers -- data points that are extreme.  We tend to over count the hits (or wild misses), and simply ignore all of the average, background clutter.

This was brilliantly illustrated by an experiment performed some years ago, in which a large number of test subjects were asked to watch a video clip of a lone man shooting a basketball.  That was all it was; just a guy shooting baskets.  Sometimes he missed, sometimes he didn't.  The subjects didn't know what they'd be asked about afterwards -- they were just told to watch the clip carefully.

There was a single question after the video was shown:  what was the guy's hit rate?

The people who had made the clip had arranged it so that the guy had an exactly 50% hit rate -- not bad, for an amateur.  What blew away the researchers was that not a single person who watched the clip -- not one -- estimated his hit rate at under 50%.  Several went as high as 80%. 

The explanation is that we give more weight in our memory to the times that the ball went in than the times it missed.  The evolutionary reason for this is simple, and persuasive; if you are a proto-hominid on the African savanna, which is more dangerous -- to pay attention to a stimulus that may not be important (weighting the hits) or to ignore a stimulus that actually is important (weighting the misses)?  Clearly it's the latter, especially if the stimulus is the sound made by a hungry lion hiding in the grass.

We're programmed to notice the hits, even when they're not really very impressive.  Astrology, then, is one massive game of dart-thrower's bias.  But the fact that it has no basis whatsoever in science, or even logic, doesn't stop astrologers from fleecing the gullible public for millions of dollars annually.

Not that this will probably convince anyone, because belief in astrology also relies heavily on confirmation bias -- the acceptance of any evidence, however puny, in support of an idea you already believe to be true.  So I'm probably tilting at windmills, here.  So whatever it is that you end up believing about astrology, do take to heart David McCandless's advice:  Keep making love, and remember that family and friends matter.

It's written in the stars

TODAY'S HOROSCOPE: Scorpio (October 23-November 21)

Your foundations are more important than you realize.  When you feel secure, nothing will bother you. If you are upset, everything could.  You are inspired by those close to you.  Understanding comes easily.  Tonight: Happiest at home.


Well, that certainly clears up my future.  Let's see if we can summarize the wisdom we have accrued from this entry:

1) If I'm secure, then I'm pretty secure.
2) If I'm not secure, then I'm not feeling very secure.
3) I have reasons for liking the people I'm close to.
4) I'm a pretty smart guy.
5) I better stay home tonight; if I don't, then wow, anything could happen.

Of course, this only applies to me because I'm a Scorpio.  If I was a different astrological sign, my horoscope would have been different, and (I'm sure) just as revealing.

Now, all astrology is based upon the positions of the moon and planets relative to twelve of the eighty-eight constellations.  The constellations, which were devised by extremely nearsighted ancient Greeks, are arrangements of stars that are supposed to look like something familiar.  So we have, for example, the Scorpion, the Bull, the Ram, and the Virgin (the last-mentioned has always made me wonder, how can they tell?).  I don't know how many of you are amateur star-gazers, but it occurs to me that the patterns of stars in the constellations don't really resemble what they're supposed to be all that much.  Libra, for example, is the Balance (whether it's an old-fashioned double-pan balance, a triple-beam balance, or a digital scale that reads to thousandths of a gram is unclear).  Now, in point of fact, Libra is made of four stars arranged in a lopsided quadrilateral.  If four stars in a lopsided quadrilateral could be the Balance, they could be damn near anything.  It could equally well be the constellation of the Computer Monitor, the Street Sign, or the Wombat.  But no, it's the Balance, and this is why supposedly Libras like to have things all nice and neat and organized, and hate it when a picture is hung crooked.

Now, why anyone thinks that the positions of the planets relative to an arbitrary arrangement of stars could have anything to do with your personality, future plans, or relationships, is an open question.  However, a recent Washington Post survey indicates that 32% of Americans do believe in astrology, and consider it "very scientific."  In my opinion, astrology is only slightly more scientific than the theory that thunder is caused by god and the angels having a bowling tournament.

Maybe I'm odd (okay, it's very likely that I'm odd), but whenever I run up against something like astrology, my first demand is "show me the mechanism."  If you believe that Jupiter's apparent position relative to a group of stars of varying distances from the earth (ranging from tens to hundreds of light-years), whose configuration is vaguely reminiscent of a guy carrying a water jug (Aquarius), has some effect on your day-to-day life, then show me how it works.  And vague, hand-waving "explanations" about "forces" and "energies" won't cut it. If you believe astrology is "very scientific," then explain the science.

Some astrologers evidently have made lame attempts to do just that, usually making appeal to the gravitational pull of the planets, stars, and so on.  But as Carl Sagan points out, the obstetrician was exerting a greater gravitational pull on you when you were born than Jupiter was, and we don't go around blathering about being born under the sign of Dr. Felkenberger.  ("Yes, everyone knows we Felkenbergers are highly intelligent, sensitive people, who like Thai food and listen to opera.")  Others claim some sort of Tao-of-Physics kind of approach, that the constellations influence your Quantum State at Birth and Exert Mystical Action at a Distance.

Yeah.  Okay.  That explains everything.  I bet my Quantum State at Birth was: I was a baby.  I probably cried a lot.  And I doubt that the fact that the Moon was in Capricorn at the time had a damn thing to do with it.

Yet despite this appalling lack of a plausible mechanism, many folks believe fervently in astrology.  And some people make lots of money off of it.  (It might be nonsense, but it can be highly lucrative nonsense.)  The same also applies to a lot of other kinds of baloney,  however.  People also believe in numerology.  And homeopathy.  And clairvoyance.  And auras.  And crystal energies.  (My dad was an amateur rockhound, and so I have a ton of his cool rocks and minerals around the house.  One time, a woman was visiting us, and picked up an amethyst crystal my dad had found in Arizona, and said, "Oooh, this one has amazingly strong energies!  I can feel its vibrations."  It was an effort not to guffaw right in her face.)

So anyway, if anyone can explain to me why astrology isn't a bunch of malarkey, I'd love to hear your explanation.  Until then, I'm of the opinion that it's certifiable 100% USDA Grade-A Bullshit.   And I probably will go out tonight, just to spite the stars.

Healing yourself from nonsense

The past couple of days, my posts here at Skeptophilia have looked at a couple of loony beliefs -- that the Earth is hollow, and that satire sites like The Onion are actually telling the truth but no one believes them.  It brought to mind one question I get asked frequently: "Why do you care so much if people believe goofy stuff?  It's not hurting anything or anybody if someone falls for a weird claim for which there is no evidence."

It's a fair question.  

To start with, some of these loony beliefs are way more common than thinking that the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel vanished into the interior of the planet.  Take astrology, for example.  But still, what's the harm?  The vast majority of people who believe the stars guide our lives take it only to the level of consulting their daily horoscope; many fewer pay for getting their star charts drawn up, and fewer still spend an amount that might cause a serious hardship.  So how is any of it harmful to anything other than their pocketbooks?

It's probably no surprise that I do think it's a problem, and the damage it causes is as insidious as it is subtle.  Accepting a claim in the absence of evidence -- in the case of conspiracy theories, often because there's no evidence -- establishes a habit of credulity.  Okay, reading and believing your horoscope causes no direct harm, but once you've decided that something sounding good, or wanting something to be true, means that it is true, you've set yourself up for belief in something that could potentially hurt or kill.

If you think I'm exaggerating, check out this new alt-med claim that I heard about from the wonderful Twitter user @Neuroskeptic.  It's called "German new medicine" and seems to be the brainchild of Ryke Geerd Hamer.  And I am not exaggerating when I say that anyone who believes this nonsense is literally putting their life at risk.

[Image licensed under the Creative Commons Rwebogora, Alternative medicines, CC BY-SA 4.0]

The claim is summarized in what he calls "five biological laws," although none of them are within hailing distance of anything like actual biological science.  In the interest of space, I'll paraphrase them; if you're so inclined, you can read about them at greater length at the site linked above.

• First law: Every disease is due to one cause, which Hamer calls a "specific biological special program" -- a response the body has to a conflict, shock, or emotional injury.  This "program" affects not only the brain and psyche, but a specific organ that then manifests the "program" as a disease.
• Second law: The "program" has two phases; a conflict-active phase in which you can have symptoms like high blood pressure, fast heartbeat, frequent urination, and loss of appetite, and a healing phase in which those symptoms abate.  Hamer states explicitly that cancer is caused by having a "conflict that requires tissue proliferation" and that people with cancer die not of the effects of the cancer itself, but directly because of chemotherapy.
• Third law: Diseases should be classified not by the systems affected, nor by the cause (bacterial, viral, genetic, and so on), but by the "embryonic germ layer relation."  He seems to be claiming that the three embryonic germ layers (endoderm, mesoderm, and ectoderm) create some kind of fundamental functional linkage between organs in the adult organism.  Along the way, he makes statements that are patently idiotic.  He claims that the parts of the brain come from different germ layers; for example, that the brainstem comes from the endoderm.  (It doesn't; the entire nervous system, including the brain and spinal cord, comes from ectoderm, something that was conclusively demonstrated a hundred years ago.)
• Fourth law: Microbes don't cause diseases.  The presence of microbes in damaged tissue is because -- this is a direct quote -- "the organism uses the microbes to optimize healing."  Because a healthy person has a large and diverse microbiome (which is true) he thinks that all microbes are beneficial (which is absurd).  I'd like to see if Hamer would volunteer to drink a culture of Vibrio cholerae -- the causative agent of cholera -- if he's so confident all microbes are harmless.
• Fifth law: Diseases, basically, don't exist, because "Mother Nature doesn't create anything meaningless, malignant, or diseased."  All the symptoms of every "disease" (to mimic his use of quotes to indicate disdain) are caused by these "specific biological special programs" the body is running to try to heal itself, which would work if only the damn doctors would just step aside.

This goes one step further even than homeopathy, which encourages you to substitute a sugar pill for real medicine; this is saying that the symptoms themselves, however severe, are your body's attempt to cure itself, and will just go away if you let it do its thing.  

I do not exaggerate by saying that following these five "rules" will result in people dying.

Look, it's not that I think doctors have all the answers, nor that medical science always works.  My mom, who was a bit of a doctor-phobe and passed that along to me, used to say, "If you're sick, wait a while.  You'll either get better or worse.  If you get better, great.  If you get worse, you can go to a doctor then."  She had a point, if you don't push it too far; the human body does have a pretty good capacity for healing itself.  As my genetics professor said -- apropos of inheritable diseases, but it could equally well be applied to other kinds -- "What is amazing is not that what happens in your body sometimes can go wrong, it's that most of the time, it all goes right."  You can see the results of over-reliance on medications in our current crisis of opioid addiction, and the overuse of antibiotics triggering antibiotic resistance in bacteria that used to be easily treatable.

But saying "sometimes medical intervention is unnecessary" is a far cry from saying "medical intervention is never necessary."  I owe my life to medical intervention; my sister died when she was three days old of Rh incompatibility syndrome, and I would have as well, but in the fifteen years between her birth and mine a treatment had been discovered that suppresses the maternal immune response against the baby's blood.  If all diseases will cure themselves if you just let the body do its thing, I wonder how Hamer and his followers explain the dramatic increase in infant survival rate since the development of vaccines and antibiotics.  Do you personally know a single individual since 1960 who died of diphtheria, polio, measles, tuberculosis, or smallpox?

I'm guessing less than one percent of my readers do.  I certainly don't.

What Hamer is doing is irresponsible in the extreme.  As far as the gullible people who believe his bullshit, I'll come back to my original point; if you take the time to learn some logic and science, you not only insulate yourself from more-or-less harmless practices like Tarot card divination, you are safe from people whose claims could keep you from seeking treatment for life-threatening conditions.

Put simply: critical thinking saves lives.

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PsychicGPT

Well... we should have seen this coming.  Or at least, they should have.

According to a recent report, visits to psychics are way down because people are paying to use online "psychic chatbots" to make predictions about their future.

Because the AI fortunetellers use "sophisticated algorithms and machine-learning techniques... and are unaffected by human emotions and preconceptions," there's been a sudden surge of the worried and/or lovelorn turning to what amounts to ClairvoyantGPT.

"In the digital age the convergence of ancient wisdom and cutting-edge technology has given rise to new possibilities," writes Jerry Lawton.  "One such innovation is AI Tarot reading where the age-old practice of Tarot cards meets the power of artificial intelligence...  Through natural language processing and data analysis AI algorithms aim to mimic the intuition and insight traditionally associated with human Tarot readers.  This fusion of technology and divination opens up new possibilities for individuals seeking guidance and self-reflection.  AI Tarot reading brings the wisdom of Tarot cards to your fingertips anytime and anywhere.  With just a few clicks you can access Tarot readings from the comfort of your own home or even on the go.  Digital platforms and mobile applications make it easy for individuals to receive instant guidance and insights eliminating the need for in-person consultations.  AI algorithms follow a set of predefined rules and principles providing objective interpretations of Tarot cards.  These algorithms analyze vast amounts of data, taking into account various factors and symbolism associated with each card.  By eliminating subjective biases AI Tarot readings offer consistent and reliable insights that remain unaffected by human emotions or preconceptions."

[Image is in the Public Domain]

Well, that all sounds pretty amazing, so I had to try it out.

I was restricted in my choices given that I am not going to give some random fortunetelling website my name and email address (this eliminated about half of them) and I was damn sure not going to pay for it (eliminating most of the other half).  I finally settled on EvaTarot.net, the home of Eva Delattre, "tarologist," which met my criteria of being free and not condemning me to a lifetime of getting spam emails from psychics.

Anyhow, after doing the "pick a card, any card" thing, here's what it told me about my future.  I've abbreviated it somewhat, because it was kind of long, but otherwise, it's verbatim.

The cards show that you are now in a period favorable to personal development.  This idea of getting better is highlighted by the cards you have selected which show that at work, and in your personal projects, you are adopting a new attitude and a new way of looking at things.  Nowadays you tend to think more about the consequences of your acts; there is no question of doing things at random, and making the same mistakes as in the past.  This new dynamic opens many doors that go beyond your personal projects.

That's good to hear.  I do feel that repeating mistakes from the past is a bad idea, which is why I have a lifelong commitment to making all new and different mistakes.

A proposal will be made that will surprise you for two reasons.  First because of the person who will do it: you didn't expect that from her.  Then by the proposal itself, which will be just for you and which will be totally unexpected.  It will make you very happy, and you will be overwhelmed to be the subject of this proposal.  "The innocent will have their hands full", as they say!  Innocent because you were not expecting this. Hands full because it will fill you with joy.

Then it's up to you to think about the consequences of this request: to accept? to refuse?  It's up to you.  Whatever happens, you'll have to give an answer.  Take the time to think, because the answer you give will engage you for months in a pattern that you will not be able to get out of easily.

Huh.  If the proposal is to turn my upcoming book release into a blockbuster movie, I'm all for it.  But the decision-making part worries me a tad.  It's never been my forte.  In fact, I've often wondered if I have some Elvish blood, given Tolkien's quip, "Go not to the Elves for advice, for they will say both yes and no."

You need calm and tranquility at the moment.  You have been tried by long-lasting problems that never seem to get better, it plays on your morale and your daily life goes by so quickly you never seem to get a grip on it.  You must have patience, create a bit of distance from a system that is going too quickly for you, and get some perspective on your situation.  The card shows a character whose head is buried in the present, trapped by the rhythm of their life, unable to escape.

Well, once again, patience has never been one of my strengths.  So this is accurate enough with regards to my personality, but at the same time I'm struck by how generally unhelpful it is.  "You need to be more patient, so develop some patience!  Now!" doesn't seem like a very good way to approach the problem.

Not, honestly, that I have any better ideas.  Unsurprising, I suppose, given that "my head is buried in the present."

What stands out about all this is how generic my reading is.  That's how it works, of course; you may remember James Randi's famous demonstration of that principle in a high school classroom, where students were told that a detailed horoscope had been drawn up for them using their birthdates, and they were asked to rate how accurate it seemed for themselves personally on a scale of zero to ten.  Just about everyone rated it above seven, and there were loads of nines and tens.

Then they were asked to trade horoscopes with the person next to them... and that's when they found out they were all given the exactly same horoscope.

We're very good at reading ourselves into things, especially when we've been told that whatever it is has been created Especially For Us.  Add to that a nice dollop of confirmation bias, and you've got the recipe for belief.

Of course, maybe my overall dubious response was because I chose the no-strings-attached El Cheapo psychic reading.  You get what you pay for, or (in this case) didn't pay for.

In any case, I suppose it was just a matter of time that the AI chatbot thing got hybridized with psychic readings.  What I wonder is what's going to happen when the AI starts to "hallucinate" -- the phenomenon where AI interfaces have slipped from giving more-or-less correct answers to just making shit up.  You pay your money, and instead of a real psychic reading, all you get is some AI yammering random nonsense at you.

That, of course, brings up the question of how you could tell the difference.

****************************************

The stars against Monsanto

In the last week my Environmental Science class has been discussing the production, use, and safety of genetically-modified organisms (GMOs).  It's a balancing act for me; addressing the legitimate concerns about their effects on human health and the environment, without buying into all of the alarmist hype, is never easy.  Additionally, the subject always brings up the questionably ethical practice of patenting genes and crop strains, so it is a topic that stirs up good discussion -- and strong feelings.

And, of course, inevitably the name "Monsanto" comes up.  Monsanto has become such a stand-in for "Evil Corporation" that a new fallacy, the argumentum ad Monsantum, was coined a while back -- the logical error that allows you to smear anyone or anything as long as you can tie it to Monsanto.

It's an increasingly hot topic.  So no wonder the woo-woos have gotten involved, this time to see if they can get some information about GMO safety, and the corporate practices of Monsanto...

... from astrological readings.

I swear I'm not making this up.  I'm not nearly creative enough to invent something this completely idiotic.  If you don't believe me, you'll have to check out the article on Activist Post entitled, "GMOs: What Do the Stars Say Astrologically?", by Catherine J. Frompovich.  In it, we learn that not only are the anti-GMO folks worried, the stars are, too.  Frompovich tells us that an astrologer, Eric Coppolino, has done a complete astrological work-up for Monsanto and its founder, John Francis Queeny, and what he found should alarm the hell out of you, as long as you have a single kernel of KettleCorn where most of us have a brain.

The first thing that Coppolino tells us is that when President Gerald Ford signed TOSCA (the Toxic Substances Control Act) into law, in October of 1976, "Mars and Chiron were in opposition."  Chiron, which is a comet-like body that has an orbit between Saturn and Uranus, is one I hadn't heard of before in connection to astrology, but Cafe Astrology tells us that it "is symbolized by the 'wounded healer.'  It represents our deepest wound, and our efforts to heal the wound."  So there you are, then.

Why that's important, Coppolino tells us, is that this reflects "a cosmic pattern that occasionally sets into Monsanto’s horoscope negative aspects that affect Monsanto’s genetically modified foods ‘mission’."  Whatever that means.

But things may not be all that rosy for Monsanto in the future, Coppolino says.  "Monsanto’s 11th house provides a description why the company seems so intractable, including its stranglehold on the public.  Monsanto survived the onslaughts against genetically modified food by its usual tactics – the use of government influence.  However, Monsanto’s Jupiter-Saturn conjunction will experience a simultaneous conjunction from Pluto and square from Uranus, which happens in 2015."

Oooh.  Scary.  "While there is no way to predict exactly what the Uranus-Pluto square will bring," Coppolino says,  "there are few astrologers who would dare to underestimate its potential power.  Those who are working for a sane response to genetic modification or to stop Monsanto outright, should know that the company is approaching a vulnerable moment, which is an invitation for activists to persist in their efforts."

Yeah.  So take that, Monsanto.

As I've said before, astrology falls into the category of "mostly harmless" -- the only damage done being the suckering of gullible people.  Still, it always bothers me when two kinds of woo-woos join forces.  The anti-GMO crowd rely largely on discredited and dubious information in their claims for harm to human health from genetically-modified crops -- most notably, the now-retracted "study" by Gilles-Eric Seralini that allegedly showed that rats fed GMO corn developed tumors.  The data, after months of peer review, were deemed "inconclusive" -- and the conclusions of the study were therefore ruled suspect.  Even so, it's still considered gospel by people who think that any genetic tampering with anything is scary and immoral (despite the fact that we've been tampering with genetics for centuries, via selective breeding of domestic animals and plants).

So teaming up with astrologers, who have about the same level of scientific veracity on their side, is not good news for those of us who want to approach the whole thing in a more fact-based, logical, scientific fashion.  One has to hope that the number of people who would appeal to an astrologer on these matters are few in number, and that the astrological prognostications of Eric Coppolino will mostly be ignored, in favor of an actual consideration of the evidence -- i.e., the real information, not just some blathering on about Pluto and Chiron and Mars.

But as we've seen many times before, optimism is sometimes a losing proposition.  I predict that the next thing we'll see is either covens of witches casting spells to stop Monsanto, or else the homeopaths coming up with anti-GMO "remedies," made from shaking up RoundUpReady tomatoes in water, and then diluting it 5,000 times.

The stars of Wall Street

Last week, Marketplace ran a story entitled, "Astrology Guides Some Financial Traders."  Thinking that the headline couldn't possibly mean what it seemed to mean, I read the article, and found that yes, in fact, it did.  The author, Heidi Moore, reports, in all apparent seriousness:

(T)he course of true investing never did run smooth, and there are some traders who look to the stars to tell them what to do. Financial astrologers like Karen Starich say traders know they're up against a lot of rich, smart people.

"They want to have that edge," she says. "They want to know what the future is."

Starich chargest $237 annually for her newsletter... (which contains) news of what will happen to the stock prices of companies, or even bigger, to the Federal Reserve.

So, we have the people who are responsible for managing investments, who are the heart and soul of the Stock Exchange, making their decisions based on... horoscopes?  Apparently, yes:

(Starich) sees dark times ahead in the Fed's horoscope.

"They now have Saturn squared to Neptune, which is really bankruptcy," Starich explains.

Neptune represents money. But when Saturn shows up in a chart, it indicates restriction. So for the Fed, that means the "fiscal cliff is here, and there’s no place to go except to print more money or unravel these financial institutions," Starich says.

But... but... really?  Are we talking about only one or two wingnuts, here?  The answer is no.  Three hundred Wall Street traders subscribe to Starich's newsletter; her rival, "financial astrologer" Arch Crawford, is even more successful, and has a newsletter that is delivered monthly to a readership of over 2,000.  Crawford is also predicting setbacks in the nation's finances, but not because "Saturn is squared to Neptune;" no, he says we're in for trouble "because Mercury is in retrograde:"

Crawford warns his 2,000 subscribers particularly against the dangers of Mercury in retrograde, a time when the planet appears to be going in reverse across the sky. The phenomenon, which happens three times or more a year, indicates a month when communications will be screwed up. He warns his subscribers never to start anything new during that time. He points to the fact that Knight Capital launched a new software program in August, when Mercury was in retrograde, and the brokerage firm nearly went out of business. He also notes that most major market glitches have happened while Mercury was in retrograde.

Can I just point out here that Mercury isn't really traveling backwards?  That it's just a sort of optical illusion based on the relative motion of Mercury and the Earth?  That there is no possible way it could have any effect on events anywhere?  That since it happens three or four times a year, for several weeks each time, that of course there will be times when "market glitches" occur during those periods?

That there is this thing called confirmation bias?

Crawford reports that some traders are cautious about letting people know they're making their decisions based upon the stars, and one even asked Crawford if he could have his newsletter delivered "wrapped in brown paper."  At least this is a hopeful sign; on some level, at least a few of these people are aware that what they're doing is ridiculous.

I don't honestly know what about this story appalls me more; that serious financial professionals are relying on astrology to make their decisions, or that a respected and credible media source published this article and treated its subject as if it were completely plausible, with only the weakest of caveats at the end that "...most people would say... (astrological predictions coming true are due to) coincidence."  What's next?  Tarot card readings by stock brokers?  Seances to consult deceased economists?  Sacrificing a goat to assure a good return on investments?

If so, I'm sure Marketplace will be the first to tell us all about how well it works.

Some days I just despair.

The strange case of the glow-in-the-dark pterodactyl

In the past week, I've written about a few cases for which an application of the sharp edge of Ockham's Razor would be advisable -- such as claiming that clouds are produced by UFOs as camouflage, deciding that the common perception of having less time to do stuff is because time itself is actually speeding up, and warning people about the pleasures and possible hazards of "astral sex."

There should be a name for the opposite of Ockham's Razor, shouldn't there?  Taking the available evidence, giving it careful consideration, and then running right off the cliff with it -- coming up with the weirdest, most convoluted, most difficult-to-swallow explanation you can.

Take the recent case of the the strange observations of a flying creature reported by a woman in Pennsylvania.  She states that she saw a "strange glowing thing at night" that flew over her car while she was driving.   It was "quite large," she said, and "was not too terribly high off the ground;" and "(it) seemed to be lit, or glowing."

Okay, that's the evidence; one woman's claim of a strange sighting. From this, what hypotheses can we devise?

• She saw an ordinary flying creature -- possibly a barn owl, whose silent flight and all-white underside could easily trick the eye into thinking that it was a glowing creature in the air.
• She was making up the story for her own reasons, possibly for the attention or because she likes to tell weird stories -- i.e., she was lying.
• She's a wingnut.
• She saw a glow-in-the-dark pterodactyl. 

Now, the story that I read told little more than the bits and pieces I've quoted, and I very much got the impression that that was all there was to it -- she had no evidence, no photographs, not even a sketch of what she saw.  Just a report of a flying creature that was glowing.  I'm the first to admit that I have no particular reason to conclude that she was lying -- I don't know her, and have no desire to impugn the motives of a total stranger.  But take our four hypotheses, and you rank them for plausibility.  I ask even the wooiest woo-woo out there in the studio audience; don't you think it's more likely that she saw a barn owl, or made the whole thing up, than...  Oh, come on.  Really?  A bioluminescent pterodactyl?

[image courtesy of the Wikimedia Commons]

On second thought, there is a name for the opposite of Ockham's Razor; it's called confirmation bias -- the acceptance of minuscule pieces of evidence to support a theory you already had decided was true.  It's why believers in astrology will crow about the one newspaper horoscope a year that happens to be reasonably accurate, and ignore all the ones that aren't; it's why the religious will proclaim it a miracle when the ill person they prayed for got better, and ignore all the people who were prayed for and died in horrible agony.  Maybe at this point I should tell you the website the glowing pterodactyl story appeared on.

It's called LivePterosaur.

Yup, there's an entire website devoted to the idea that pteranodons and other pterodactyloids have survived through the millions of years since the last fossil evidence, conveniently leaving not a trace behind in all of the geologic strata from the intervening eras, and now are gliding their way over the wilds of Pennsylvania.  A lot of the evidence, if you can call it that, comes from native legends, just as the totality of the "evidence" for Mokele-Mbembe and the Bunyip being dinosaur survivals comes from tales from the natives of central Africa and Australia, respectively.  The pterodactyl legend is apparently especially to be found in Papua New Guinea, where a flying creature called the "Ropen" supposedly haunts the rain forest; but there's the "Wawanar" of western Australia and the "Kongamato" of Africa, and also an unnamed sighting in Cuba where it presumably was called the "holy mother of god what the fuck is that thing?", only in Spanish.

Did these people actually see something strange?  Could be.  There are plenty of big birds around; in the tropics, we also have fruit bats, one group of which (the "flying foxes" of the genus Pteropus) can have a wingspan of five feet.  Could they have been lying?  Drunk?  Crazy?  Sure.  Could it just be a story, and no more true than tales of unicorns and dragons?  Sure.  And I think any of those is more likely than it being a pterodactyl.

Now, don't mistake me; no one would think it was cooler than I would if it turned out that some kind of pterodactyloid actually had survived all these years.  In fact, the pterodactyloids are somewhere in my top five favorite categories of extinct animal.  I'm also fully aware of the times that it's turned out that something has made it to the present day, after years of only being known from the fossil record.   (The most famous being the coelacanth, the prehistoric lobe-finned fish that turned out not to be so prehistoric after all.)  I just don't think that it's all that likely that somehow a giant bioluminescent pterodactyl is gliding around in the woods of Pennsylvania, and has escaped all notice of the biologists until now.  It's slightly more likely that one could live in the forests of Papua New Guinea, or central Africa, given the remoteness, dense woods, and low population density; but only slightly.  The likelihood of it being a tall tale is orders of magnitude greater.

So, sorry to be a party-pooper, but I really do think that the lady in Pennsylvania saw a barn owl.  Or else should be more careful to take her medication regularly.  Whatever it was she saw, I'd be willing to bet a significant amount of money that it wasn't a glow-in-the-dark pterodactyl.

The strange case of the glow-in-the-dark pterodactyl

In the past week, I've written about a few cases for which an application of the sharp edge of Ockham's Razor would be advisable -- such as blaming your troubles on your poodle's being possessed by demons, deciding that a shadow on a NASA photograph is a cloaked alien spacecraft, and giving credit to stories of a "zone of silence" inhabited by blond alien guys wearing yellow rain slickers.

There should be a name for the opposite of Ockham's Razor, shouldn't there?  Taking the available evidence, giving it careful consideration, and then running right off the cliff with it -- coming up with the weirdest, most convoluted, most difficult-to-swallow explanation you can.

Take the case of the the strange observations of a flying creature reported last week by a woman in Pennsylvania.  She states that she saw a "strange glowing thing at night" that flew over her car while she was driving.  It was "quite large," she said, and "was not too terribly high off the ground;" and "(it) seemed to be lit, or glowing."

Okay, that's the evidence; one woman's claim of a strange sighting.  From this, what hypotheses can we devise?

• She saw an ordinary flying creature -- possibly a barn owl, whose silent flight and all-white underside could easily trick the eye into thinking that it was a glowing creature in the air.
• She was making up the story for her own reasons, possibly for the attention or because she likes to tell weird stories -- i.e., she was lying.
• She's a wingnut.
• She saw a glow-in-the-dark pterodactyl.

Now, the story that I read told little more than the bits and pieces I've quoted, and I very much got the impression that that was all there was to the story -- she had no evidence, no photographs, not even a sketch of what she saw.  Just a report of a flying creature that was glowing.  I'm the first to admit that I have no particular reason to conclude that she was lying -- I don't know her, and have no desire to impugn the motives of a total stranger.  But take our four hypotheses, and you rank them for plausibility.  I ask even the wooiest woo-woo out there in the studio audience; don't you think it's more likely that she saw a barn owl, or made the whole thing up, than...  Oh, come on.  Really?  A bioluminescent pterodactyl?

On second thought, there is a name for the opposite of Ockham's Razor; it's called confirmation bias -- the acceptance of miniscule pieces of evidence to support a theory you already had decided was true.  It's why believers in astrology will crow about the one newspaper horoscope a year that happens to be reasonably accurate, and ignore all the ones that aren't; it's why the religious will proclaim it a miracle when the ill person they prayed for got better, and ignore all the people who were prayed for and died in horrible agony.  Maybe at this point I should tell you the website the glowing pterodactyl story appeared on.

It's called LivePterosaur.

Yup, there's an entire website devoted to the idea that pteranodons and other pterodactyloids have survived through the millions of years since the last fossil evidence, conveniently leaving not a trace behind in all of the geologic strata from the intervening eras, and now are gliding their way over the wilds of Pennsylvania.  A lot of the evidence, if you can call it that, comes from native legends, just as the totality of the "evidence" for Mokele-Mbembe and the Bunyip being dinosaur survivals comes from tales from the natives of central Africa and Australia, respectively.  The pterodactyl legend is apparently especially to be found in Papua New Guinea, where a flying creature called the "Ropen" supposedly haunts the rain forest; but there's the "Wawanar" of western Australia and the "Kongamato" of Africa, and also the unnamed sighting in Cuba where it presumably was called the "holy mother of god what the hell is that thing?", only in Spanish.

Did these people actually see something strange?  Could be.  There are plenty of big birds around; in the tropics, we also have fruit bats, one group of which (the "flying foxes" of the genus Pteropus) can have a wingspan of five feet.  Could they have been lying?  Drunk?  Crazy?  Sure.  Could it just be a story, and no more true than tales of unicorns and dragons?  Sure.  And I think any of those is more likely than it being a pterodactyl.

Now, don't mistake me; no one would think it was cooler than I would if it turned out that some kind of pterodactyloid actually had survived all these years.  I'm also fully aware of the times that it's turned out that something has made it to the present day, after years of only being known from the fossil record.  (The most famous being the coelacanth, the prehistoric lobe-finned fish that turned out not to be so prehistoric after all.)  I just don't think that it's all that likely that somehow a giant bioluminescent pterodactyl is gliding around in the woods of Pennsylvania, and has escaped all notice of the biologists until now.  It's slightly more likely that one could live in the forests of Papua New Guinea, or central Africa, given the remoteness and the dense woods; but only slightly.  The likelihood of it being a tall tale is orders of magnitude greater.

So, sorry to be a party-pooper, but I really do think that the lady in Pennsylvania saw a barn owl.  Or else should be more careful to take her medication regularly.  Whatever it was she saw, I'd be willing to bet a significant amount of money that it wasn't a glow-in-the-dark pterodactyl.

Astrohomeopathy

Because there's no idiotic idea that can't be made even more ridiculous by blending it with another idiotic idea, today we consider "astro-homeopathy."

If you're thinking, "Wait... that can't mean what it seems to...", unfortunately, yes, it does.  There actually are people who are prescribing homeopathic "remedies" based on your astrological sign.

As we're told over at the the site Ashwini Homeopathy Holistic Healing:

Each planet and its sign have certain characteristics, which may be weak or strong, depending on their placement in the horoscope.  By matching these characteristics of the planets and their signs with the symptoms of Homoeopathic [sic] remedies, it is possible to connect them in order to select the right medicine.

It's explained even more fully over at the site Mystic Scripts:

Astro homeopathy is based on a very unique idea of relating homeopathy with astrology.  Many people follow the astrohomeopathy principles and lead a healthy life.  You can also try astro homeopathy healing methods so that you can lead a life free from health hazards and fitness problems.

Astrology and homeopathy are bridged in astro homeopathy.  An astrohomeopathy reading for you finds out your sun sign and the body parts related to your sign of the zodiac, and tells you the health problems you have the possibility to suffer from (if, of course, there is [sic] any).  In addition, you also come to know the homeopathic remedies for the health problems.

On this site there is a link where you can get your own free astrohomeopathy reading, so of course, I had to do it.  So I entered my birthdate, and this is what I got:

You are intense and ong [sic] willed people who have a very determined nature.  You are powerful and full of energy.  You may seem very calm on the surface but inside, you have a lot of latent aggression. You are very thoughtful and good company, but you are more than that meets the eye.  You seem to be detached from events but actually keep a careful track of what is happening.  You are very sensitive, which leads you to being short tempered.  You have great will power and will achieve your goals if focused.  You are highly motivated individuals who are very resourceful and passionate in your dealings.  You have ong [sic] powers of reasoning and if put to the right use, you will reach the top in no time.

Man, if being short-tempered and having latent aggression are my "positive traits," I can barely wait to see what my negative ones are.  At least I'm a very "ong" person.  That's good, right?

L'homme zodiacal from Les très riches heures du Duc de Berry (ca. 1410) [Image is in the Public Domain]

Now, for the bad news -- my "negative traits:"

Your bluntness may hurt a lot of people.  You may get too involved and probe into issues, which doesn't concern them.  You may be temperamental, making them very difficult to get along with.  You believe you can achieve a lot in life, but just talk and don't do anything as you may have become over confident.  You may be arrogant and jealous of others' achievements.  You do no [sic] trust people and are always suspicious.  Your secretive nature may create problems.  Also you may turn violent at the blink of an eye.

If wanting to flip a table when I'm reading paragraph after paragraph of horseshit constitutes being "temperamental and violent," then guilty as charged.

Then there's the homeopathy part.  Apparently, given my birth sign, what I need is a "remedy" made from plaster of Paris.  I shit you not.  And wait till you read why:

CALCAREA SULPHUREA (Sulphate of Lime, Plaster of Paris) -- Scorpio exerts influence over the sexual organs and as such the pure Scorpions are prone to suffer form infections and problems in their sex organs.  They are susceptible to skin eruptions on the genitals, cystitis and diseases of the urinary tract along with venereal infections.

I don't know about you, but that's enough to make me walk around in a protective crouch for the rest of the day.  The remedy, by the way, "has no side effects," which is a relief, although a more accurate way to put it is "has no effects whatsoever."

Oh, and my lucky numbers are 2 and 4, my lucky colors are burgundy and black, and my lucky day is Tuesday (which is today!  Yay!).

I'm also told that famous persons I'm supposedly similar to include John Keats, Julia Roberts, Bill Gates, and Pablo Picasso.  And I'm sure you can see immediately how alike those four are.

Anyhow, I'm off to take my plaster of Paris pills so my sexual organs don't erupt, and so my arrogant and overconfident nature doesn't cloud my powers of reasoning and bring to the surface my latent aggression.  I hate it when that happens.

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This week's featured book on Skeptophilia is Flim-Flam!, by the grand old man of skepticism and critical thinking, James Randi.  Randi was a stage magician before he devoted his career to unmasking charlatans, so he of all people knows how easy it is to fool the unwary.  His book is a highly entertaining exercise in learning not to believe what you see -- especially when someone is trying to sell you something.

What's the harm?

One of the questions I get asked pretty frequently, apropos of my work as a debunker and critic of woo, is "What's the harm?"  So what if people want to believe in astrology or divination or whatnot?  Surely it's harmless to check your horoscope daily or make your decisions on your latest Tarot card reading.  Just leave people alone and let them do whatever floats their boat.

The problem is, these kinds of beliefs aren't harmless.  I see three different ways in which such practices generate a potential for direct harm.  First, belief in something despite a complete lack of evidence establishes a habit of credulity; so your acceptance of something fairly benign (like astrology) can predispose you to believe something that isn't benign at all (like the claim that homeopathy is a legitimate way to treat human disease).  Once you've fallen for one bit of nonsense, the next one is that much easier to fall for.

Second, a great many of the people who are purveyors of this nonsense are in it for one reason: money.  They are happy to relieve you of your hard-earned cash in exchange for a tissue of lies.  One good example of this is faith healing, which even today brings its practitioners millions of dollars a year, ripped off from the gullible and the desperate.

Last, though, is that some forms of woo -- the ones that, like homeopathy and faith healing, claim to alleviate something real, something with an actual physical cause -- lead people to abandon practices that might actually work, and seek out what amounts to magic.  And that brings me to Christina Lopes, a self-styled "healer and life coach."

I ran into Christina Lopes over at the r/skeptic subreddit, where someone posted one of her videos along with some rather acidic commentary.  I'd never heard of her, so I decided to watch the video.

In order to save you a half-hour of your life that you'll never get back, allow me to summarize the main points.

First, she says we're all "ascending."  Our bodies, supposedly, are in the process of transforming into something "higher."  What she means by "higher" is never defined in any rigorous way, but apparently it has to do with two things -- your "light quotient," the amount of light your body can hold, and the rate at which you're vibrating.  Lopes subscribes to the idea that the faster something is vibrating, the better it is, an idea you'd think anyone would realize is false just based on sound waves.  (If you don't believe me, you listen to a guy playing a solo piccolo for an hour, and I'll listen to a guy playing a cello, and we'll see who has a headache afterward.)  Better still, consider that claim applied to the light she likes talking about so much; compare the effect on the body of very high-frequency light (e.g. gamma rays) as compared to lower-frequency light (e.g. visible light).

I know which one I'd want bombarding me.

[Image licensed under the Creative Commons Salma2789, Spirit man, CC BY-SA 4.0]

So far, nothing so different than a lot of these kinds of wacky spiritual claims.  But then she goes into the health effects of "ascension," and that's where things get dangerous.

She says that when you start "ascending," it's hard on the body.  Our cells (which she claims are sentient) "literally purge themselves of lower energy."  If she means "literally" literally, it's hard to fathom why the scientists have never detected this energy purge, since you'd think it would be measurable somehow.  But she goes on to tell us that this phase of things creates some real physical symptoms -- muscle inflammation, which "could be anywhere" including your chest, and mental agitation (disjointed, dark, or violent thoughts).  If this happens to you, she says, don't be afraid, because fear is a "dense emotion" which will just make things worse.  You should also increase water intake, because "water is a conductor of energy."  (Good idea, but for the wrong reason.)

At this point, she's moved into the realm of advice that could cause actual harm.  The symptoms she describes -- inflammation and mental agitation -- can be the result of real, and potentially serious, medical conditions.  Believing her bullshit explanation about this being just a natural result of "ascension," and nothing to worry about, means someone might forgo legitimate medical treatment, perhaps until it's far too late.  (For fuck's sake, chest pains and mental agitation are signs of a heart attack.  If you're feeling this, don't mess around with wondering if you're "ascending," get your ass to a hospital now.)

It's to be hoped that the scope of damage she's doing is limited; not only is she not especially widely-known (I couldn't find any mention of her on RationalWiki, for example), but fortunately a lot of the little aches and twinges we experience, and many of the disjointed or chaotic thoughts, are completely normal and not the sign of any dire problems.  But one person dying of cancer because he thought his symptoms were signs of "ascension," and he put off seeing a doctor, is way, way too many.

It's amazing how quickly beliefs can move from "weird but basically harmless" to "actively dangerous."  The problem is, setting aside rational thought so you can accept the former means you'll be much more likely to accept the latter without question.  All the "your body is light" and "high-frequency vibrations are good" stuff is innocuous enough; but as you can see from Lopes's video, those lead directly to "here are some real physical symptoms you shouldn't worry about."

I don't see any way to stop her from posting her videos; her advice is mostly vague enough that trying to establish culpability for harm in a legal sense would be next to impossible.  Failing that, the best we can do is to stress once again how important education in critical thinking is.  Not to mention a solid background in actual science.  If enough people call this out as the bullshit it is, purveyors of snake oil like Christina Lopes will be permanently out of a job.

**************************************

Real vs. fake astrology

Astrology is not, unfortunately, limited to the western world.  People have looked to the sky for portents, not just in Europe and the Americas, for millennia.  There's a tale from Chinese history that over four thousand years ago, two astrologers, Ho and Hsi, were executed by the emperor for failing to predict a solar eclipse (that their other predictions were correct, I doubt, but that's a big one to miss given that astrologers are supposed to have their eyes in the sky all the time).

India has its own astrological tradition, based in the Vedas, the sacred writings of the Hindu religion.  And like many of these beliefs, they have persisted up to today.  Vedic astrology is still so popular that courses in it are taught in several Indian universities.  And I'm not just talking about looking at the beliefs from an anthropological perspective; no, they're taught as if they were science (which I find appalling).  In particular, the conservative Bharatiya Janata Party has championed the study of astrology as science, with one of their most outspoken leaders, former Minister of Human Resources Murli Manohar Joshi, stating that he wanted to see universities come up with grant proposals for ways to "rejuvenate the science of Vedic astrology in India," and then "export it to the world."  [Source]

As if we don't have enough ridiculous woo-woo ideas of our own around here already.

Now, however, Joshi and others of the BJP are trying to introduce legislation that would require astrologers to register with state authorities.  Joshi himself was the keynote speaker at the 4th International Astrological Conference in Karnataka, where he made the announcement.  The Karnataka Astrologers' Association, who hosted the conference, are fully in favor of this, which is a little puzzling; you would think that such a move would be as popular as the time that legislation was passed in Romania requiring witches to pay income tax.

But no, the KAA and other such groups are solidly behind this move.  Why, you might ask?

The answer: because this will help to sort out "real astrologers" from "fake astrologers."

I'm not making this up.  The vice president of the KAA has gone on record as stating that these fake astrologers put forth "mindless prophecies," that damage "the reputation of astrology, which is traditionally viewed as a science."

Oh.  I see.  And the "real astrologers" put forth what kind of prophecies, again?

It would be entertaining to have the KAA host a contest, where a "real astrologer" and a "fake astrologer" both make predictions based on the stars, and wait to see which one comes true.  My own analysis of the position of the planet Saturn relative to the constellation Orion has indicated that both of them would fail miserably, an outcome that would confirm my belief that all of astrology, be it Vedic, Chinese, or the horoscope from the New York Times, is patent horse waste.

Of course, the sad fact is that it's pretty unlikely that (1) the KAA would agree to any such thing, or that (2) true believers would stop believing even if such a contest had the results I predicted.  Astrology is far too subject to such errors in thinking as the dart-thrower's bias -- the tendency of people to notice the hits and ignore the misses.  And the astrologers themselves often engage in a form of the Texas sharpshooter's fallacy -- where they call attention to past correct predictions, and conveniently fail to mention all the ones they missed.  (The name of the fallacy comes from a story of a Texas man who had bullseyes painted on his barn wall, and each one had a bullet hole exactly in the center.  It turned out that he'd shot the holes first, and then painted the bullseyes around them afterwards.)

In any case, it will be interesting to see how the whole thing plays out.  Will the "real astrologers" have to present a document certifying that they've taken Vedic astrology course work at one of the Indian universities that offers it?  Will they have to undergo a rigorous exam testing their knowledge of the rules of the game?  The worst part of it all is that if this legislation succeeds, it will amount to a major world government lending credence to the superstitious beliefs of a bunch of charlatans, and further confusing the gullible public about what science actually is.

But of course, since we have the Institute for Creation Research right here in the US doing the same thing, and doing their level best to influence public policy, perhaps I shouldn't point fingers.

Avoidance of things past

Can we establish something right at the get-go?

Just because something is old doesn't mean it's a good idea.

Okay, ancient Greek sculpture is pretty awesome.  Ditto Roman architecture.  More recently, but still a while back, I find that music by Heinrich Ignaz von Biber (1644-1704) beats hollow any music from Justin Bieber (1994-present), and in fact I am inclined to think that music's pretty much been in decline since Johann Sebastian Bach died in 1750.

But in general?  There are a lot of things from the past that we really should leave in the past.  Consider the Four Humors Theory of Medicine, in which all disease was thought to be due to an imbalance in the four "humors" of the body -- blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile.  It's what gave rise to the lovely idea of bloodletting to treat disease (not to mention the words sanguine, phlegmatic, bilious, and melancholy).

And that's hardly the only example.  There's trial by ordeal, sacrificing virgins in volcanoes, reading the future by looking at the entrails of chickens, and belief in witchcraft.  So while it's natural enough to venerate our ancestors, it bears remembering that they came up with some truly awful ideas.

Which is why I started rolling my eyes at the title of an article in Quartz, and pretty much didn't stop till the last line.

The article in question, "Horoscopes 2018: Astrology Isn’t Fake—It’s Just Been Ruined by Modern Psychology" by Ida C. Benedetto, claims that reading portents in the skies isn't wrong; the problem lies with the damn researchers trying to elucidate what's actually happening in the brain.

[image courtesy of the Wikimedia Commons]

Benedetto spends a good bit of her article slamming the whole "Sun Signs" thing, which is what gives us the horoscope columns in the daily newspaper, wherein you can find out that if you're an Aquarius, while you're walking to work today you will trip over a curb and drop your cup of coffee down a storm sewer.  (Okay, I honestly don't have any clue what is going to happen to you if you're an Aquarius.  For one thing, I'm a Scorpio.  For another, it's a lot of bollocks in any case, so it doesn't really matter.)

Benedetto writes:

Don’t relate to your sign?  That might be because sun-signs astrology is a recent creation designed to appeal to mass audiences...

The sun-sign approach to astrology continued to grow in popularity through newspaper columns in the first half of the 20th century and boomed when New Age went mainstream in the 1960s.  Historian Nick Campion notes that “sun-sign astrology domesticated the universe” at a time when astronomy discovered that our galaxy was one small dot among billions in a perpetually expanding universe.  When modern science was making humanity look smaller and more insignificant than ever, people found it reassuring to think of their personalities as being reflected in the stars.

In which, so far, I find nothing to disagree with.  But then she tells us that we need to jettison modern sun sign astrology, and replace it with the astrology from the ancient Greeks.

Now, I don't mean to run down the ancient Greeks, who did some amazing stuff.  But their knowledge of the stars -- i.e., astroNOMY, not astroLOGY -- was pretty rudimentary.  After all, they're the ones who, presumably after drinking way too much ouzo, looked up at random assemblages of stars and had the following conversation, only in ancient Greek:

Ancient Greek Guy #1:  Dude.  Don't you think that bunch of stars over there looks just like a "sea goat?" 

Ancient Greek Guy #2:  What the fuck is a "sea goat?" 

Ancient Greek Guy #1:  It's a goat with the tail of a fish.  Here, have another shot of ouzo. 

Ancient Greek Guy #2:  Yeah, now I see the resemblance.  Let's call it "Capricorn." 

Ancient Greek Guy #1:  Isn't that name Latin?  We're ancient Greeks.

Ancient Greek Guy #2:  Hey, bro, you were just talking about "sea goats."  Don't come after me about accuracy. 

Ancient Greek Guy #1:  Oh, okay, fair enough.  [takes another slug of ouzo]  And hey, look at those stars!  That bunch looks like a virgin, don't you think? 

Ancient Greek Guy #2:  A virgin?  How can you tell at this distance? 

Ancient Greek Guy #1:  Why else would she be up there in the sky? 

Ancient Greek Guy #2:  Okay, that makes sense.

So it's not like I'm that inclined to take their knowledge of what was actually happening in the heavens all that seriously.  Benedetto, however, says that both the current astronomers and astrologers have missed the point entirely.  So what, exactly, does she believe?  It takes her a while to get to the point -- she seems much clearer on what she doesn't believe -- but she finally has this to say:

One of the greatest sticking points where traditional and modern astrology diverge is destiny.  Hellenistic astrology describes a causal relationship between the movement of planets and stars and the material world on earth.  The ancients also believed in the notion of fate.  Fatedness runs counter to our modern notion of free will, and therefore many find traditional astrology unpalatable.  However, we do not need to believe in a fatalistic view of planetary movements to revive some insights in the work of the ancient astrologers who espoused them.

Which sounds pretty mushy, but that's honestly the most solid thing she has to say about it.  She then quotes an astrologer whose name is (I'm not making this up) "Wonder Bright," who says that you can reconcile the old and new astrology if you look at it just right.

"Modern counseling methods," Bright says, "are a boon to the astrologer and probably account for the large percentage of women studying and practicing astrology nowadays, which would have been unthinkable in previous centuries."

And as far as that goes, I can easily reconcile old and new astrology:

They're both bullshit.  The end.

What strikes me about all of this is that both flavors of astrologer, old and new, don't ever ask what are really the only relevant questions here:

1. Is there scientifically admissible evidence for any of this?
2. Is there any plausible mechanism by which the motion of distant planets against even more distant stars could affect events here on Earth?

Of course, since the answer to both of them is "No," it's unsurprising she didn't address the issue.

She ends with a rather amusing statement: "Traditional astrology, with its wealth of ancient texts, deserves the same respectful suspension of disbelief as other old-world scientific fields."  Righty-o.  I'll start first.  You "respectfully suspend your disbelief" with respect to reading the future from patterns of sticks dropped on the floor, and I'll do the same with respect to what happens when Neptune is in Sagittarius.  (Once again, I have no idea either if Neptune is currently in Sagittarius, or if so what it means, and moreover, I don't give a damn about either one.)

So the whole argument is rather ridiculous.  It brings up the quote from Cicero, who wondered how "two augurs could pass on the street and look one another in the face without laughing."

As for me, however, I think I'm going to go listen to some music by Bach.  Whatever else you can say about those folks back in the past, they sure did know how to write a cool prelude and fugue.

Scam detection

I am asked sometimes why I care so much if people believe counterfactual nonsense.  "What's the harm?" is a frequent way the question is phrased.  "So what if folks like to check their horoscope or get a Tarot card reading every so often?  Who is it hurting?"

There are two answers to this.  First, once you've accepted one idea without requiring that it have any connection to reality, it makes it all too easy to get suckered again.  One gets in a habit of sloppy thinking -- or not thinking at all -- and the attractiveness of certain forms of woo are such that once you've started down that road, it's hard to turn back.

The second, though, is more insidious, and it is that it puts you at risk of being taken advantage of by predatory charlatans.  These are people who know damn good and well that they are liars, but are shamelessly bilking people for thousands of dollars, preying on gullibility, desperation, and grief to swell their own ill-gotten gains.

Take, for example, "psychic detectives."  These people descend like vultures on families whose loved ones have gone missing, claiming that they will gather information from The Cosmos to tell the grief-stricken whether the missing individual is dead or alive, whether there's any hope of their safe return, or (if they're dead) where the body might be found.  One session can cost $500 or more.  And driven by the loss and emptiness, together with the horrible uncertainty regarding what happened, the victims are often willing to pay.  The result?  "Psychic detectives" do a thriving business.

[image courtesy of the Wikimedia Commons]

So it does my heart good to see one of them get found out.  Just last week, Inside Edition reporter Lisa Guerrero did an exposé on Portland, Oregon "psychic detective" Laurie McQuary, wherein the show's producer, Charlie McLravy, hired McQuary, posing as the brother of a missing girl.  He brought along a photograph and asked McQuary what had happened to the girl.

McQuary didn't hesitate.  The girl was dead, she said.  She hated to tell him that, but she had to be honest.  Her death was violent, and involved sexual assault.  In the end, her assailant hit her in the head with a rock and killed her.

But it went further than that.  McQuary brought out a map, and told McLravy where he could find his sister's body.  "She's right here," she said.  "No more than a mile or two away."

The next day, McQuary was brought in to be interviewed by Guerrero.  Guerrero brought out the photograph, and McQuary verified that she'd spoken to the missing girl's brother, and that the girl was dead.

"You always know... if a person is dead or alive?" Guerrero asked.

"Oh, yes," McQuary answered.

"Then would you be surprised to know that this little girl is me?"

There was a moment of pure shocked silence.  Then McQuary said, her voice faltering a little, "And... um... you haven't been abducted?"

Guerrero said, "No, as you can see, I'm right here.  Can you explain this?"

McQuary said, "No, I can't."

Then Guerrero went in for the kill.  "This little girl is me, and you told him she was dead.  You're taking advantage of desperate people with a bunch of hocus-pocus, aren't you?"

McQuary said, "No, I'm not," and then got up and walked off the sound stage, trying to gather whatever shreds were left of her dignity, ending with, "This has been very interesting.  You all have a very nice day."

All in all, McLravy and Guerrero showed the photograph to ten psychic detectives -- all of whom said that Guerrero had died as a child.  Not a single one said, "Um... she's still alive, she was never abducted, and in fact, she isn't your sister.  What's going on here?"

It's not that I don't understand the pain people feel over loss.  And although I've never had a close friend or relative disappear, I can imagine how hard it is not to know the fate of someone you care about.  So I have some sympathy for the grieving family members who hire these people.

But the idea that "psychic detectives" and other such charlatans are using the pain of the grieving to bilk them out of huge sums of cash, and giving them nothing in return but a skein of lies -- that is unforgivable.  And to Guerrero and McLravy, all I can say is: touché.