A couple of days ago, I got a rather nice email from a creationist. Not, I got the feeling, a young-earth creationist, but someone who believes that a deity directed the creation of the Earth (whenever that happened), and that species can't change because they're the work of divine hands.
"I just can't believe in evolution," the writer said. "It's impossible that species can change. They go extinct sometimes, like the dinosaurs, but how could one thing change into another, like apes into humans? It makes no sense."
Again, this was light years from the snide, spittle-flecked screeds that I've sometimes received regarding this subject; I very much had the impression that the writer was simply curious as to why I find the idea of evolution persuasive. And as such, it deserves an answer.
I'm going to approach the idea of supporting evolution a little differently than most folks do. It seems like the majority of evolutionary biologists, when confronted with questions about the plausibility of the evolutionary model, usually discuss the tried-and-true body of evidence (genetic homology between related species, homologous structures, vestigial organs, the fossil record, and so on). These are well known, and in my opinion either you buy them or you don't. Those folks who don't also usually fall back on a few tried-and-true arguments against them (vestigial organs actually have a use which we just don't happen to know, the fossil record lacks transitional forms, radiometric dating is inaccurate, and so on).
More to the point, one of the usual anti-evolutionist arguments often centers around the question, "if evolution happens, why don't we see new species?" and the ordinary answer is, "because evolution occurs so slowly."
Well, sometimes. Maybe usually. But my contention is that rapid, observable evolution has happened many times, and if you don't buy the evolutionary model, there are a few real-world situations that really allow no other explanation.
So, to quote my dad, let's run them up the flagpole and see who salutes.
First, though, a definition. My understanding of creationism is that, at its basis, it states that new species cannot form. Species can become extinct, but god created the species that are here, and that's what we're stuck with. (If this statement is erroneous, I'd appreciate a correction.) So as an evolutionist, I have a twofold job; to define species (so that we all know what we're talking about), and to show that there have, in fact, been new species evolved on the Earth. If I can accomplish those two things, then I think I'll have made a pretty potent case that evolution happens.
The first task is relatively easy. While there is an increasing push to define the term "species" genetically, at present most of us (evolutionist and creationist alike) define "species" as meaning "a population of morphologically distinct individuals, all of whom are potentially capable of interbreeding and producing fertile offspring." By this definition, horses and donkeys aren't the same species because although they can mate and produce offspring, the offspring (a mule) is not usually fertile. All breeds of dog are theoretically a single species, because although there are morphologically distinct sub-populations (breeds), they are all more or less mutually interfertile, even though a mating between a male chihuahua and a female St. Bernard raises a mental image which is simultaneously a little disturbing and strangely hilarious.
Okay, now for the next part. Have there been any new species that have formed recently? If you buy the definition of species from the last paragraph, the answer is undeniably "yes." I know of three off the top of my head, which I'll describe below. The first two are simple, the third more complicated (but well worth the effort to try to understand, because it's way cool). And last, I'll describe a population phenomenon that I don't think is explainable unless you do accept evolution, although it's hard to classify exactly where it falls apropos of the definition of "species."
Number 1: The Faeroe Island House Mouse
About 250 years ago, mice were accidentally introduced onto the Faeroe Islands, an isolated island chain (way) north of Scotland. In the intervening years, the mice were isolated from their mainland kin, and the harsh climate was a powerful selection mechanism. Recent studies have shown that the Faeroe Island House Mouse is now no longer even potentially interfertile with mainland House Mice -- matings in the lab have resulted in no offspring or sterile ones, and the Faeroe Island mice are discernibly smaller and lighter in color than the mainland species. If you accept the definition of "species," the Faeroe Island House Mouse is a new species -- morphologically distinct, and unable to interbreed with other populations -- and it's arisen in only 250 years.
Number 2: The London Underground Mosquito
When the London Underground (subway) was built about a hundred years ago, a population of mosquitoes of the species Culex pipiens was trapped in the tunnels. Being that subways are warm and moist, the mosquitoes flourished. Culex pipiens, which mostly preys on birds, is reluctant to bite humans and will only do so if there is no other food available; in the 100 years since the isolating event took place, natural selection has favored the individuals underground who are more attracted to mammals (mostly rats and humans), and the result has been a rapid speciation event producing the aptly-named Culex molestus. C. pipiens and C. molestus will not interbreed -- in fact, in the lab they won't even mate. Genetic studies have shown that their genetic makeup has diverged rapidly (due to the heavy selection underground and the fact that mosquitoes breed quickly) -- so by any conventional definition of the word "species," they are different species.
Number 3: Cordgrass
This one is fascinating. Cordgrass (Spartina) is a genus of marine grass, with a number of morphologically distinct species. In England, Spartina maritima was the most common species, until the 19th century, when the American species S. alterniflora was accidentally introduced. The two occasionally hybridize, producing an infertile (although vigorous) hybrid, S. x townsendii.
Okay, so far, nothing amazing; it's just the botanical version of the horse and the mule. Normally these interspecies hybrids are infertile because they lack paired chromosomes, and during meiosis (sex cell formation) the process goes awry because it is impossible to evenly divide the genetic material without this pairing. But apparently at least once (possibly more), an individual of S. x townsendii underwent an odd transformation; in one of its flowers, the chromosomes spontaneously doubled. This phenomenon, called allopolyploidy, is rare in the wild but rather easy to induce in the lab (it's how the huge tetraploid and triploid daylilies you often see in gardens are created, for example). What this did was instantaneously produce an offspring with paired chromosomes, and a different number of chromosomes from either parent. It is completely fertile with others like it; is not back-fertile with either parent species; and is morphologically distinct. It's been accorded species status (as S. anglica), and for good reason, because if this is not a new species, I don't know what is. Furthermore, it's an amazing competitor, and is in many locations outcompeting both its exotic and its native parent.
And one more, just for lagniappe, as my mom used to say (lagniappe is Cajun French for "a little something extra"). If none of these convince you, then look into the concept of a ring species. A ring species is a set of morphologically distinct populations, which encircle a geographical barrier of some kind. Each sub-population can interbreed with the ones adjacent to it, except at one point in the ring. This has been observed at least three, possibly more times -- in Himalayan Greenish Warblers, in a group of salamanders (genus Ensatina) in California, and in a group of gull species (in this one, the ring goes all the way around the world!).
Let's just make it clear how weird this is; picture a group of populations (call them A through G) which go around some sort of geographical barrier (the Himalayas, the Sierra Nevadas, and the Arctic Ocean, respectively). A can breed with B, B with C, C with D, and so on. And you ring your way around the barrier, and find that A and G are right next to each other -- overlap, even -- but A and G can't interbreed!
So which are they -- one species, or many? If you say "one," then why can't A and G interbreed? Breaks the definition. If you say "several," where do you draw the line(s)? No matter where you draw the line(s), you will separate populations that can interbreed, and produce fertile offspring (and therefore should be part of the same species). So, once again: what is this? And if "species" are all divinely created, immutable little populations which don't change, how on earth did this come about?
Myself, I find it impossible to explain any of these without recourse to the evolutionary model. If anyone has a plausible alternative explanation, I'd love to hear it. Encouragement of all viewpoints, as always, is the watchword hereabouts.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
The Google Earth Atlantis conspiracy
New from the "You Can't Win With These People" department, we have news that Google Earth did not, in fact, discover Atlantis in 2009.
Or, as the Atlanteans would have you believe, they are covering up the fact that they found Atlantis for their own nefarious reasons.
You may remember the news from two years ago, when the newly-launched Google Ocean began to add imaging data on the topography of the ocean floor. You could, if you wanted to, view the mysterious and inaccessible contours of the abyssal plains and mid-ocean ridges. It was all very cool, a real triumph of science and technology.
Until, that is, they posted the following, from off the coast of Africa:
After all the woo-woos stopped having multiple orgasms, and actually stopped to think about it, at least some of them realized that it couldn't be what it looked like, because the scale was all wrong. If this was the remnants of a sunken city, the streets of the city (presumably the apparent grooves in the photograph) would have had to be over a half a mile across. Google Earth, for their part, immediately recognized what was going on, and said that the "grid lines" didn't exist, that they were a sensor artifact produced by using overlapping data sets that didn't quite line up.
So, last week they released a new image, with the problem compensated for, and lo and behold, the "sunken city" disappears:
So you'd think that at that point, all of the Atlanteans would sort of go, "Oh. Okay. I see now. What a bunch of nimrods we were," and go home.
You'd be wrong.
Sites have started springing up all over that Google Earth is participating in a giant coverup, that they slipped up in letting the original image become public, and now they're trying to cover their tracks. (For one particularly funny example, watch this short YouTube video from one of the conspiracy-theory wingnuts.) The new image, they say, has deliberately erased evidence of the existence of Atlantis -- it was the original image that was correct.
What I find the funniest about all this is that none of them seem to stop to consider what possible motive Google Earth would have for eliminating the evidence of a ruined city on the sea floor. If the thing exists, it would only be of interest to archaeologists -- it's not like there's anything down there that is worthy of all of the effort. If anything, you'd think that the scientists working on Google Earth would be excited if it were true -- scientists tend to get that way when they come across new and unexpected findings, because that's how you make your name in the scientific world, and (more importantly) that's how you get grant money.
Not that any of this will convince the conspiracy theorists, because as I've commented before, you can't convince a conspiracy theorist. Mere logic and evidence don't do it, and in fact usually lead the conspiracy theorist to decide that the wielder of said logic and evidence is just part of the conspiracy. The whole thing is more than a little maddening.
So anyway, I'd like to end with a picture of what's really down there. You know, what Google Earth et al. are covering up.
Yes, I know that Google Earth didn't show any statues with spears. That's because they systematically removed all evidence of them from their maps. But they're down there, because Plato said so. And when it comes to evidence, who are we going to trust - a Greek philosopher from 2,500 years ago, or a bunch of silly old stick-in-the-mud Ph.D.s in science?
Yeah. I thought so.
Or, as the Atlanteans would have you believe, they are covering up the fact that they found Atlantis for their own nefarious reasons.
You may remember the news from two years ago, when the newly-launched Google Ocean began to add imaging data on the topography of the ocean floor. You could, if you wanted to, view the mysterious and inaccessible contours of the abyssal plains and mid-ocean ridges. It was all very cool, a real triumph of science and technology.
Until, that is, they posted the following, from off the coast of Africa:
After all the woo-woos stopped having multiple orgasms, and actually stopped to think about it, at least some of them realized that it couldn't be what it looked like, because the scale was all wrong. If this was the remnants of a sunken city, the streets of the city (presumably the apparent grooves in the photograph) would have had to be over a half a mile across. Google Earth, for their part, immediately recognized what was going on, and said that the "grid lines" didn't exist, that they were a sensor artifact produced by using overlapping data sets that didn't quite line up.
So, last week they released a new image, with the problem compensated for, and lo and behold, the "sunken city" disappears:
So you'd think that at that point, all of the Atlanteans would sort of go, "Oh. Okay. I see now. What a bunch of nimrods we were," and go home.
You'd be wrong.
Sites have started springing up all over that Google Earth is participating in a giant coverup, that they slipped up in letting the original image become public, and now they're trying to cover their tracks. (For one particularly funny example, watch this short YouTube video from one of the conspiracy-theory wingnuts.) The new image, they say, has deliberately erased evidence of the existence of Atlantis -- it was the original image that was correct.
What I find the funniest about all this is that none of them seem to stop to consider what possible motive Google Earth would have for eliminating the evidence of a ruined city on the sea floor. If the thing exists, it would only be of interest to archaeologists -- it's not like there's anything down there that is worthy of all of the effort. If anything, you'd think that the scientists working on Google Earth would be excited if it were true -- scientists tend to get that way when they come across new and unexpected findings, because that's how you make your name in the scientific world, and (more importantly) that's how you get grant money.
Not that any of this will convince the conspiracy theorists, because as I've commented before, you can't convince a conspiracy theorist. Mere logic and evidence don't do it, and in fact usually lead the conspiracy theorist to decide that the wielder of said logic and evidence is just part of the conspiracy. The whole thing is more than a little maddening.
So anyway, I'd like to end with a picture of what's really down there. You know, what Google Earth et al. are covering up.
Yes, I know that Google Earth didn't show any statues with spears. That's because they systematically removed all evidence of them from their maps. But they're down there, because Plato said so. And when it comes to evidence, who are we going to trust - a Greek philosopher from 2,500 years ago, or a bunch of silly old stick-in-the-mud Ph.D.s in science?
Yeah. I thought so.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Psychics, and zombies, and witches, oh my!
Well, it's shaping up to be a busy week here at Worldwide Wacko Watch. Here are a few of the stories that your tireless team of reporters (comprised of me and my two tireless dogs, Doolin and Grendel) are currently following.
First, we have news that some psychic astral projectors have discovered that the crew of Apollo 16 discovered alien life on the Moon.
A group called "Transception, Inc.", an Austin, Texas based "psychic research and development organization," has written a letter to NASA administrator Charles Bolden, recommending that the landing crew of Apollo 16, John Young and Charles Duke, be given Congressional Medals of Honor -- but only if they are "released from their bond of secrecy" about what they really saw up there on the Moon. What, pray, did they see, then, and how do the good folks at Transception, Inc. know about it?
What they saw, of course, was a wrecked spaceship. And aliens. As for how they got this information, they did it by "remote viewing." For a video clip of their team in action, go here, if you can stand to see some folks, in all seriousness, combine astral projection and backmasking and still call it "research."
Apparently what Transception, Inc. thinks is a wrecked alien ship is actually a big rock, that the astronauts nicknamed "House Rock." The video includes some footage of Young and Duke walking around on the Moon, and they say something on the order of, "Geez, that's a big rock." You'd think that if they'd seen an alien spaceship, they'd have said something more along the lines of, "Holy shit, that's an alien spaceship." But maybe they already realized that they were under "bonds of secrecy."
Just think -- if NASA had known it was that easy, they could have saved all of that money, time, and effort, and just employed Transception, Inc. to investigate the Moon's surface. And why stop there? You'd think that if astral projection works, it'd be just as easy to go to Mars, Titan, and so on, without having to employ actual astronomers and engineers and so on.
At least the Transception, Inc. people had the sense to make a claim that isn't easily falsified; it's not like there's anyone up there on the Moon to check to see if their descriptions of wreckage are accurate. This is more than one can say for Lauren Rainbow, the Bedford, New Hampshire psychic who stated (here) three days ago that the New England Patriots would win the Superbowl.
"I feel a strong team connection," Rainbow said. "I feel they work well with each other. I've been feeling that they sense each other on the field. I feel probably after half time that we're really going to see a solid movement of the Patriots taking a lead then."
When questioned further by reporters, she heatedly told them that these were "not educated guesses," that she was actually seeing what would happen. She did, however, admit that she only watched the Superbowl for the commercials. Which, given the accuracy of her forecast, is probably just as well.
It's a mystery to me why these people don't give up, and that goes double for the folks who keep pinpointing the end of the world. If you're going to claim to be a psychic, at least do what the smart psychics do, which is to make vague, unverifiable claims, so you can maintain that you're right even in the face of scoffers.
Which is advice that someone should have given to the guy in our next story. Just yesterday, we have news from South Africa (sources here and here) that a popular singer has been arrested for returning from the dead.
Khulekani "Mgqumeni" Mseleku, a Zulu traditional singer, died in December of 2009, according to family and friends, and was buried in a local cemetery. Said family and friends were pretty shocked when, last week, a guy showed up in Mseleku's village in Kwa-Zulu Natal, claiming to be the late Mseleku himself.
He wasn't actually dead, the resurrected Mseleku said, which must have made the aforementioned family and friends feel pretty crummy about burying him. No, he was "kidnapped and held by zombies," and only recently escaped "through the help of his ancestors."
"I have been suffering a lot at the place where I was kept with zombies," Mseleku version 2.0 told reporters. "It was hell there and I am so grateful that I was able to free myself and return to my family and you, my supporters." And indeed, the support has been pouring in, with fans coming from hundreds of miles away to see him.
Police, however, weren't quite so sanguine, and have taken the alleged Mseleku in for questioning and DNA testing.
Last, we have the sad news that Laurie Cabot, Salem, Massachusetts' "official witch," has closed up shop.
Cabot, who is 79 and who has been, um, witching for over forty years, has decided to shut down "Cabot's Official Witch Shoppe" at 63R Wharf Street and go into semi-retirement, citing decreasing tourism and increased costs as her reasons.
For enthusiasts, however, she hastens to state that she will still be doing business online, selling incense, potions, and books of spells. (You can check out her website here.) She also hopes to find a home for her coven, the "Cabot Kent Hermetic Temple."
It wasn't an easy road, Cabot told reporters, and she faced some serious harassment at first. "Jesus freaks would walk in yelling at me; irate mothers would come in because one of their kids came in the store and was interested,’" she said. "It was pretty bad; my two daughters and I would be walking down the street and good ol' boys would drive by and say, 'They ought to hang you again,'" a statement that makes me wonder about the intelligence level of the good ol' boys, given that hanging is generally fatal, and people who are dead tend to stay dead, unless they are prominent Zulu traditional musicians.
Be that as it may, she eventually found acceptance, and in 1977 then-governor Michael Dukakis appointed her the "Official Witch of Salem," a title that got her teaching engagements at Harvard and Wellesley, and an appearance on the Tonight Show.
So, anyway, we wish her all the best in the next phase of her life and hope that her online business continues to thrive, which given the number of gullible people out there, seems fairly likely.
So, there you have it. Psychics visiting the Moon, a missed Superbowl prediction, zombie musicians, and a retiring witch. As always, we here at Worldwide Wacko Watch burn the midnight oil to bring stories to your doorstep. Well, I do, anyway. The dogs have apparently given up on their hopes that I'll play fetch with them and are snoring on the couch. But fear not, if breaking news comes our way, they can be roused in seconds. Particularly if the news involves chasing squirrels.
First, we have news that some psychic astral projectors have discovered that the crew of Apollo 16 discovered alien life on the Moon.
A group called "Transception, Inc.", an Austin, Texas based "psychic research and development organization," has written a letter to NASA administrator Charles Bolden, recommending that the landing crew of Apollo 16, John Young and Charles Duke, be given Congressional Medals of Honor -- but only if they are "released from their bond of secrecy" about what they really saw up there on the Moon. What, pray, did they see, then, and how do the good folks at Transception, Inc. know about it?
What they saw, of course, was a wrecked spaceship. And aliens. As for how they got this information, they did it by "remote viewing." For a video clip of their team in action, go here, if you can stand to see some folks, in all seriousness, combine astral projection and backmasking and still call it "research."
Apparently what Transception, Inc. thinks is a wrecked alien ship is actually a big rock, that the astronauts nicknamed "House Rock." The video includes some footage of Young and Duke walking around on the Moon, and they say something on the order of, "Geez, that's a big rock." You'd think that if they'd seen an alien spaceship, they'd have said something more along the lines of, "Holy shit, that's an alien spaceship." But maybe they already realized that they were under "bonds of secrecy."
Just think -- if NASA had known it was that easy, they could have saved all of that money, time, and effort, and just employed Transception, Inc. to investigate the Moon's surface. And why stop there? You'd think that if astral projection works, it'd be just as easy to go to Mars, Titan, and so on, without having to employ actual astronomers and engineers and so on.
At least the Transception, Inc. people had the sense to make a claim that isn't easily falsified; it's not like there's anyone up there on the Moon to check to see if their descriptions of wreckage are accurate. This is more than one can say for Lauren Rainbow, the Bedford, New Hampshire psychic who stated (here) three days ago that the New England Patriots would win the Superbowl.
"I feel a strong team connection," Rainbow said. "I feel they work well with each other. I've been feeling that they sense each other on the field. I feel probably after half time that we're really going to see a solid movement of the Patriots taking a lead then."
When questioned further by reporters, she heatedly told them that these were "not educated guesses," that she was actually seeing what would happen. She did, however, admit that she only watched the Superbowl for the commercials. Which, given the accuracy of her forecast, is probably just as well.
It's a mystery to me why these people don't give up, and that goes double for the folks who keep pinpointing the end of the world. If you're going to claim to be a psychic, at least do what the smart psychics do, which is to make vague, unverifiable claims, so you can maintain that you're right even in the face of scoffers.
Which is advice that someone should have given to the guy in our next story. Just yesterday, we have news from South Africa (sources here and here) that a popular singer has been arrested for returning from the dead.
Khulekani "Mgqumeni" Mseleku, a Zulu traditional singer, died in December of 2009, according to family and friends, and was buried in a local cemetery. Said family and friends were pretty shocked when, last week, a guy showed up in Mseleku's village in Kwa-Zulu Natal, claiming to be the late Mseleku himself.
He wasn't actually dead, the resurrected Mseleku said, which must have made the aforementioned family and friends feel pretty crummy about burying him. No, he was "kidnapped and held by zombies," and only recently escaped "through the help of his ancestors."
"I have been suffering a lot at the place where I was kept with zombies," Mseleku version 2.0 told reporters. "It was hell there and I am so grateful that I was able to free myself and return to my family and you, my supporters." And indeed, the support has been pouring in, with fans coming from hundreds of miles away to see him.
Police, however, weren't quite so sanguine, and have taken the alleged Mseleku in for questioning and DNA testing.
Last, we have the sad news that Laurie Cabot, Salem, Massachusetts' "official witch," has closed up shop.
Cabot, who is 79 and who has been, um, witching for over forty years, has decided to shut down "Cabot's Official Witch Shoppe" at 63R Wharf Street and go into semi-retirement, citing decreasing tourism and increased costs as her reasons.
For enthusiasts, however, she hastens to state that she will still be doing business online, selling incense, potions, and books of spells. (You can check out her website here.) She also hopes to find a home for her coven, the "Cabot Kent Hermetic Temple."
It wasn't an easy road, Cabot told reporters, and she faced some serious harassment at first. "Jesus freaks would walk in yelling at me; irate mothers would come in because one of their kids came in the store and was interested,’" she said. "It was pretty bad; my two daughters and I would be walking down the street and good ol' boys would drive by and say, 'They ought to hang you again,'" a statement that makes me wonder about the intelligence level of the good ol' boys, given that hanging is generally fatal, and people who are dead tend to stay dead, unless they are prominent Zulu traditional musicians.
Be that as it may, she eventually found acceptance, and in 1977 then-governor Michael Dukakis appointed her the "Official Witch of Salem," a title that got her teaching engagements at Harvard and Wellesley, and an appearance on the Tonight Show.
So, anyway, we wish her all the best in the next phase of her life and hope that her online business continues to thrive, which given the number of gullible people out there, seems fairly likely.
So, there you have it. Psychics visiting the Moon, a missed Superbowl prediction, zombie musicians, and a retiring witch. As always, we here at Worldwide Wacko Watch burn the midnight oil to bring stories to your doorstep. Well, I do, anyway. The dogs have apparently given up on their hopes that I'll play fetch with them and are snoring on the couch. But fear not, if breaking news comes our way, they can be roused in seconds. Particularly if the news involves chasing squirrels.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Dowsing, SLIders, and Portuguese Water Dogs
I find that one of the most useful questions to ask someone who makes an outlandish claim is, "How could that possibly work?"
I bring this up in part because of a discussion I had with a student a couple of days ago over the practice of dowsing. For those of you who don't know what this is, dowsing (also known as "water-witching") is the use of a forked stick, generally by a "sensitive," to find underground water. Supposedly the stick will give a sharp downward pull if there's a source of water suitable for well-drilling underneath where you're standing. I have found that this is the one woo-woo claim that elicits the most support when it comes up in my Critical Thinking classes -- almost every one of my students knows at least one person who will vouch for its truth.
Of course, the fact is, in upstate New York there's almost nowhere you could drill around here and not hit water, sooner or later, and most of the groundwater is pretty clean. So dowsing would be a pretty safe proposition nearly everywhere. But so, of course, would claiming that your dog was a "sensitive," and leading him around on a leash until he gets bored and sits down, and then drilling there because a source of underground water exerts a magnetic attraction on your dog's butt.
I hear that Portuguese Water Dogs are an especially good choice for this.
Be that as it may, I said to my student, "How could this possibly work?" Of course, she had no ready answer for this, and neither does anyone else, but this hasn't stopped people from making one up -- that the Earth's "energies" interact with the "psychic fields" of the dowser's mind, causing the stick to move downwards. One person's website even claimed that because willow trees like to grow near water, willow wood works the best for dowsing rods. (And you laughed at my Portuguese Water Dog claim. Please explain to me how the "willow wood" claim is any different.)
The demand of "show me the mechanism" is a pretty good first-order test for a lot of these claims, such as the recent spate of stories about people called SLIders (and we're not referring to the 90s science fiction TV series here). SLIders are people who exhibit Street Light Interference -- street lights go off, or on, or flicker, when they walk past. (Lest you think I'm making this up, here's a link to a recent story.) Naysayers, of course, claim this is just Dart-Thrower's Bias -- the tendency of the human mind to notice and remember oddities (times that the street light went off as you passed) and ignore all of the background noise (times that the street lights stayed on). Believers aren't buying it, and claim that the "electrical output of the brain" is interfering with the electrical flow in the street light.
How the electrical activity of the brain -- which, according to The Physics Factbook, runs at a total energy consumption rate of 20 to 40 Watts, or slightly less than a single typical incandescent light bulb -- could affect the activity of a 200 Watt high-pressure sodium vapor lamp running on conventional electrical current forty feet away, is never explained. Any demand for a plausible mechanism quickly descends into the same kind of "sensitive psychic field" baloney that comes up with similar requests vis-à-vis dowsing.
This, of course, doesn't discourage die-hard SLIders from thinking they're doing something unusual, which makes you wonder why they don't constantly short out computers, televisions, cellphones, iPods, and so on. You'd think that if they can affect something as simple, and powerful, as a street light, frying a laptop would be a relative cinch. Yet even some of the pro-SLIder sites I looked at admitted that the effect had "proven difficult to replicate in a laboratory setting."
Yup, I'll just bet it is. In any case, here's another nice thing to add to your skeptical toolkit -- "show me the mechanism." If you think something weird is going on, you'd better have a plausible explanation for it that doesn't fly in the face of verified science. And that goes double for all of you Portuguese Water Dogs.
I bring this up in part because of a discussion I had with a student a couple of days ago over the practice of dowsing. For those of you who don't know what this is, dowsing (also known as "water-witching") is the use of a forked stick, generally by a "sensitive," to find underground water. Supposedly the stick will give a sharp downward pull if there's a source of water suitable for well-drilling underneath where you're standing. I have found that this is the one woo-woo claim that elicits the most support when it comes up in my Critical Thinking classes -- almost every one of my students knows at least one person who will vouch for its truth.
Of course, the fact is, in upstate New York there's almost nowhere you could drill around here and not hit water, sooner or later, and most of the groundwater is pretty clean. So dowsing would be a pretty safe proposition nearly everywhere. But so, of course, would claiming that your dog was a "sensitive," and leading him around on a leash until he gets bored and sits down, and then drilling there because a source of underground water exerts a magnetic attraction on your dog's butt.
I hear that Portuguese Water Dogs are an especially good choice for this.
Be that as it may, I said to my student, "How could this possibly work?" Of course, she had no ready answer for this, and neither does anyone else, but this hasn't stopped people from making one up -- that the Earth's "energies" interact with the "psychic fields" of the dowser's mind, causing the stick to move downwards. One person's website even claimed that because willow trees like to grow near water, willow wood works the best for dowsing rods. (And you laughed at my Portuguese Water Dog claim. Please explain to me how the "willow wood" claim is any different.)
The demand of "show me the mechanism" is a pretty good first-order test for a lot of these claims, such as the recent spate of stories about people called SLIders (and we're not referring to the 90s science fiction TV series here). SLIders are people who exhibit Street Light Interference -- street lights go off, or on, or flicker, when they walk past. (Lest you think I'm making this up, here's a link to a recent story.) Naysayers, of course, claim this is just Dart-Thrower's Bias -- the tendency of the human mind to notice and remember oddities (times that the street light went off as you passed) and ignore all of the background noise (times that the street lights stayed on). Believers aren't buying it, and claim that the "electrical output of the brain" is interfering with the electrical flow in the street light.
How the electrical activity of the brain -- which, according to The Physics Factbook, runs at a total energy consumption rate of 20 to 40 Watts, or slightly less than a single typical incandescent light bulb -- could affect the activity of a 200 Watt high-pressure sodium vapor lamp running on conventional electrical current forty feet away, is never explained. Any demand for a plausible mechanism quickly descends into the same kind of "sensitive psychic field" baloney that comes up with similar requests vis-à-vis dowsing.
This, of course, doesn't discourage die-hard SLIders from thinking they're doing something unusual, which makes you wonder why they don't constantly short out computers, televisions, cellphones, iPods, and so on. You'd think that if they can affect something as simple, and powerful, as a street light, frying a laptop would be a relative cinch. Yet even some of the pro-SLIder sites I looked at admitted that the effect had "proven difficult to replicate in a laboratory setting."
Yup, I'll just bet it is. In any case, here's another nice thing to add to your skeptical toolkit -- "show me the mechanism." If you think something weird is going on, you'd better have a plausible explanation for it that doesn't fly in the face of verified science. And that goes double for all of you Portuguese Water Dogs.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Hauntings and jurisprudence
It's interesting to see what happens when people's beliefs in the paranormal bump into the legal system.
Last month, we had the story of a man in Fond du Lac County, Wisconsin who told the sheriff that the injuries his wife had sustained had come from her being punched by a ghost. (It didn't work, and the man was arrested for domestic assault.) In Romania last year, legislators were officially cursed by a group of self-styled witches after they passed a law requiring the witches to pay taxes on money they collect from people for casting spells. (You can read my post about this story here.) In Britain, we have the Fraudulent Mediums Act, passed in 1951 and revised in 2008, which requires so-called mediums to state up front that their psychic readings, contacting of the dead, and so on were "for entertainment purposes only."
Now, we have a story out of Norway, courtesy of the wonderful blog Doubtful News, about some folks who had agreed to buy a house, and then tried to back out of the deal because the house was haunted.
According to the Gudbrandsdølen Dagningen, "The house owner accepted the buyer's bid and considered the house sold when the date for the takeover was set to happen... but in the meantime the buyer heard stories about unexplained phenomena and has refused to go through with the transaction. Now the controversy around the house purchase in a village in Gudbrandsdalen has been going on for so long that the house owner has decided to sue the buyer."
How could courts settle such a case, when in order to establish that the seller was trying to cheat the buyer, the prosecutor would have to establish the existence of something that doesn't, technically, exist?
Interestingly, here in the US we have laws covering just such occurrences, and they're usually phrased in such a way that the court is not required to take a stand on the existence, or nonexistence, of ghosts. In the case of Stambovsky vs. Ackley, which reached the New York State Supreme Court in 1991, a woman named Helen Ackley in Nyack, New York owned a house that she had repeatedly reported was haunted by poltergeists. (She had even written a piece in Reader's Digest about it.) When, in 1989, Ackley decided to sell the house, she didn't tell the prospective buyer, one Jeffrey Stambovsky, about the alleged haunting. Stambovsky put a down payment on the house, signed the contract -- and only afterwards found out about the poltergeists. When he tried to get the contract torn up, Ackley refused -- and Stambovsky sued.
Ultimately, the court ruled that since ghost activity would not show up in a typical home inspection, but that the reputation of a house's being haunted could reduce its property value, the buyer had the right to back out of the contract:
One has to wonder if the courts in Norway will achieve such a delicately balanced solution. But I also have to question how the legal system, with its ostensible emphasis on finding out the truth, can be entirely unconcerned as to whether the claims at the heart of a case are true or false. I'm no lawyer, and I'd expect that the argument would be that the relevant issue was the potential loss of property value by the seller because of the claims, not whether or not the claims were themselves valid. However, how can it not be relevant whether the ghosts in question actually existed? At what point is it within the framework of the law to say, "Sorry, dude, ghosts aren't real?" The sheriff in Wisconsin certainly had no problem with saying that to the guy who said that a ghost punched his wife.
Last month, we had the story of a man in Fond du Lac County, Wisconsin who told the sheriff that the injuries his wife had sustained had come from her being punched by a ghost. (It didn't work, and the man was arrested for domestic assault.) In Romania last year, legislators were officially cursed by a group of self-styled witches after they passed a law requiring the witches to pay taxes on money they collect from people for casting spells. (You can read my post about this story here.) In Britain, we have the Fraudulent Mediums Act, passed in 1951 and revised in 2008, which requires so-called mediums to state up front that their psychic readings, contacting of the dead, and so on were "for entertainment purposes only."
Now, we have a story out of Norway, courtesy of the wonderful blog Doubtful News, about some folks who had agreed to buy a house, and then tried to back out of the deal because the house was haunted.
According to the Gudbrandsdølen Dagningen, "The house owner accepted the buyer's bid and considered the house sold when the date for the takeover was set to happen... but in the meantime the buyer heard stories about unexplained phenomena and has refused to go through with the transaction. Now the controversy around the house purchase in a village in Gudbrandsdalen has been going on for so long that the house owner has decided to sue the buyer."
How could courts settle such a case, when in order to establish that the seller was trying to cheat the buyer, the prosecutor would have to establish the existence of something that doesn't, technically, exist?
Interestingly, here in the US we have laws covering just such occurrences, and they're usually phrased in such a way that the court is not required to take a stand on the existence, or nonexistence, of ghosts. In the case of Stambovsky vs. Ackley, which reached the New York State Supreme Court in 1991, a woman named Helen Ackley in Nyack, New York owned a house that she had repeatedly reported was haunted by poltergeists. (She had even written a piece in Reader's Digest about it.) When, in 1989, Ackley decided to sell the house, she didn't tell the prospective buyer, one Jeffrey Stambovsky, about the alleged haunting. Stambovsky put a down payment on the house, signed the contract -- and only afterwards found out about the poltergeists. When he tried to get the contract torn up, Ackley refused -- and Stambovsky sued.
Ultimately, the court ruled that since ghost activity would not show up in a typical home inspection, but that the reputation of a house's being haunted could reduce its property value, the buyer had the right to back out of the contract:
Where, as here, the seller not only takes unfair advantage of the buyer's ignorance but has created and perpetuated a condition about which he is unlikely to even inquire, enforcement of the contract (in whole or in part) is offensive to the court's sense of equity. Application of the remedy of rescission, within the bounds of the narrow exception to the doctrine of caveat emptor set forth herein, is entirely appropriate to relieve the unwitting purchaser from the consequences of a most unnatural bargain.Note that the court didn't address the issue of whether the ghosts actually have to exist; it's merely the reputation of being haunted that is relevant.
One has to wonder if the courts in Norway will achieve such a delicately balanced solution. But I also have to question how the legal system, with its ostensible emphasis on finding out the truth, can be entirely unconcerned as to whether the claims at the heart of a case are true or false. I'm no lawyer, and I'd expect that the argument would be that the relevant issue was the potential loss of property value by the seller because of the claims, not whether or not the claims were themselves valid. However, how can it not be relevant whether the ghosts in question actually existed? At what point is it within the framework of the law to say, "Sorry, dude, ghosts aren't real?" The sheriff in Wisconsin certainly had no problem with saying that to the guy who said that a ghost punched his wife.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Tragedy, judgment, and shades of gray
One of my many faults is that I seem to see everything in shades of gray. In the realm of science, okay, a lot of that is pretty black and white; but when it comes to people, I always see actions as a web of causes, effects, qualifications, and mitigating circumstances.
I've been thinking about this because of a tragedy that struck in our little village this Wednesday. An 18-year-old former student of mine, at a little past eleven in the morning, apparently assaulted his father and injured him badly enough that the father had to be airlifted to a hospital in Syracuse. The last I checked, the father's condition had been upgraded from "critical" to "fair," but informed sources have said "he's not doing well," and one of them even used the dreaded words "brain damage."
The son is now being held in jail, has been charged with felony assault, had his bail set at $100,000, and is facing a possible sentence of up to 25 years in prison.
What I've noticed about this whole sad mess is how quick people are to rush to judgment. I read the "comments" section under one of the articles that appeared in our local newspaper's website, and saw ones that said, "This kid is a vicious criminal and should rot in jail," "I know the son and he wouldn't do something like this without provocation," and more than one that referenced an allegation that the son was using drugs at the time and that the real criminal was the one who supplied him with the drugs.
I find it a little appalling that people are so willing to pass judgment on a situation while knowing almost nothing in the way of facts. It is, apparently, nearly certain that the son was the one who committed the assault; while the media has used the word "alleged," I strongly got the impression that it was being used in its formal legal sense only. However, why did he assault his father? Honestly, at this point, no one knows, except the son himself and perhaps his legal counsel. Anything we say about it is speculation, and I have no idea why someone would want to commit him/herself to a statement of judgment based upon speculation.
As far as blame... let's say that the claims of drug use are correct, and the kid was high as a kite at the time. Does this diminish responsibility? Or increase it, as he was committing one crime (using illegal drugs) while he committed another? Does his supplier bear some of the guilt? We are all so interconnected, and our actions have so many causes, that it seems to me to be nearly impossible to sort it all out.
All I can say is that when I think of the son, I remember, a quiet, gentle, soft-spoken boy, who had a ready smile and a quick wit. He didn't focus very hard on school work, but he was unfailingly well-behaved and respectful in my class, and after taking my Critical Thinking class last year he came up and thanked me and said it was one of the most interesting classes he'd ever had. I think of him sitting in a prison cell for perhaps the next two decades -- as if somehow that will rectify what he has done. I think of his father's life, damaged perhaps beyond repair. I think of his younger brother, who is mentally disabled, and who now has effectively lost two family members.
It's a situation where everyone has lost, and at this point nothing we can do will make any of it better.
And I also think: I would make a terrible juror. In all but a few, clear-cut cases, I would hate to be put in a position of passing judgment. And I sometimes wish I did see actions in simpler terms. It would make life a great deal easier.
I've been thinking about this because of a tragedy that struck in our little village this Wednesday. An 18-year-old former student of mine, at a little past eleven in the morning, apparently assaulted his father and injured him badly enough that the father had to be airlifted to a hospital in Syracuse. The last I checked, the father's condition had been upgraded from "critical" to "fair," but informed sources have said "he's not doing well," and one of them even used the dreaded words "brain damage."
The son is now being held in jail, has been charged with felony assault, had his bail set at $100,000, and is facing a possible sentence of up to 25 years in prison.
What I've noticed about this whole sad mess is how quick people are to rush to judgment. I read the "comments" section under one of the articles that appeared in our local newspaper's website, and saw ones that said, "This kid is a vicious criminal and should rot in jail," "I know the son and he wouldn't do something like this without provocation," and more than one that referenced an allegation that the son was using drugs at the time and that the real criminal was the one who supplied him with the drugs.
I find it a little appalling that people are so willing to pass judgment on a situation while knowing almost nothing in the way of facts. It is, apparently, nearly certain that the son was the one who committed the assault; while the media has used the word "alleged," I strongly got the impression that it was being used in its formal legal sense only. However, why did he assault his father? Honestly, at this point, no one knows, except the son himself and perhaps his legal counsel. Anything we say about it is speculation, and I have no idea why someone would want to commit him/herself to a statement of judgment based upon speculation.
As far as blame... let's say that the claims of drug use are correct, and the kid was high as a kite at the time. Does this diminish responsibility? Or increase it, as he was committing one crime (using illegal drugs) while he committed another? Does his supplier bear some of the guilt? We are all so interconnected, and our actions have so many causes, that it seems to me to be nearly impossible to sort it all out.
All I can say is that when I think of the son, I remember, a quiet, gentle, soft-spoken boy, who had a ready smile and a quick wit. He didn't focus very hard on school work, but he was unfailingly well-behaved and respectful in my class, and after taking my Critical Thinking class last year he came up and thanked me and said it was one of the most interesting classes he'd ever had. I think of him sitting in a prison cell for perhaps the next two decades -- as if somehow that will rectify what he has done. I think of his father's life, damaged perhaps beyond repair. I think of his younger brother, who is mentally disabled, and who now has effectively lost two family members.
It's a situation where everyone has lost, and at this point nothing we can do will make any of it better.
And I also think: I would make a terrible juror. In all but a few, clear-cut cases, I would hate to be put in a position of passing judgment. And I sometimes wish I did see actions in simpler terms. It would make life a great deal easier.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
That's no moon. It's a space station.
The whole subject of "book reviews" has been much on my mind lately, because being (as well as a blogger) a fiction writer, with several titles to my name on Amazon and Barnes & Noble, I am constantly monitoring my links to see if I've gotten good reviews. Or bad reviews. Or any reviews. Because, let's face it, Brendan Behan was on to something when he said, "There is no such thing as bad publicity."
On the other hand, you have to wonder how accurate reviews really are, and I mean no disrespect to the people who have reviewed my work. Especially those who have given it five stars.
The subject comes up because I was doing some research for today's post, on a topic suggested by a student, to wit, the conjecture that the Moon is an artificial construct. It seems like the first serious exploration of the claim was done by Christopher Knight in his 2007 book, Who Built The Moon?, but it has recently come back to light because the cause has been taken up by noted wingnut David Icke in his latest publication, Human Race, Get Off Your Knees: The Lion Sleeps No More. And no, I'm not making that title up, and I wonder if you had the same reaction as I did when you read it, which is to hear deep voices in the background going, "A wimoweh, a wimoweh, a wimoweh."
Be that as it may, Icke is into the artificial-moon theory in a big way. Here's a quote from his book:
Anyway, Icke goes on like this for 690 pages, talking about how the Moon must be hollow, that it's older than the Earth is, and has "anomalous quantities" of "metals such as brass and mica" (for the non-geologists in the studio audience, let me point out that mica isn't a metal), that particles of metallic iron on the Moon's surface are "mysteriously resistant to rusting" (not a surprise given that rusting is oxidation, a process that is unlikely to occur in a place with no atmosphere), and that the maria ("seas") are places where meteorite collisions resulted in damage, which had to be repaired by the Reptilians using "an artificial cement-like substance."
690 pages of this. And it costs $23.00, plus shipping and handling, to purchase it from Amazon.
So anyway, I'm wading through all of this, and just shaking my head, but then I saw the thing that made me shake my head so much I looked like I had a severe disorder of the central nervous system -- that this book has received 49 reviews, of which 37 gave it five stars. Here are a few selected phrases from these reviews:
Reviews are, by their very nature, a skewed sample. People who review this book have (one would hope) read it, which means that the presumably huge number of people in this world who would read the book's description, see its price, and then laugh and say "no freakin' way" are already eliminated from the pool. Only once you have forked over your $23.00 (plus shipping and handling) are you going to be able to review the book, and this speaks to a certain level of, shall we say, credulity right from the starting gate.
So, anyway, I'm trying to be positive, here, which is sometimes difficult. Wingnuts will always be out there trumpeting their theories; that is, after all, what wingnuts do. And there will always be a small group of people who think that their nutty ideas make total sense, and I emphasize the words "small group" with every hopeful thought of which I am capable. For right now, I'll just try to put the whole thing out of my mind, if only to stop the voices in my head from singing, "A wimoweh, a wimoweh, a wimoweh," which is getting a little annoying.
On the other hand, you have to wonder how accurate reviews really are, and I mean no disrespect to the people who have reviewed my work. Especially those who have given it five stars.
The subject comes up because I was doing some research for today's post, on a topic suggested by a student, to wit, the conjecture that the Moon is an artificial construct. It seems like the first serious exploration of the claim was done by Christopher Knight in his 2007 book, Who Built The Moon?, but it has recently come back to light because the cause has been taken up by noted wingnut David Icke in his latest publication, Human Race, Get Off Your Knees: The Lion Sleeps No More. And no, I'm not making that title up, and I wonder if you had the same reaction as I did when you read it, which is to hear deep voices in the background going, "A wimoweh, a wimoweh, a wimoweh."
Be that as it may, Icke is into the artificial-moon theory in a big way. Here's a quote from his book:
I had that overwhelming feeling at my computer that the Moon was artificial and was being used to control life on this planet. It is the Reptilians’ control system. The placement of the Moon dictates the speed of Earth’s rotation and the angle at which it rotates – 22.5 degrees from vertical. This angle creates the four seasons because of the way planet faces the Sun during its annual orbit. The Moon has a major influence on the tides – far more than the Sun – and with the human body consisting of some 70 per cent water it is bound to have a fantastic influence on us, even on that level alone. The Moon also dictates so much of our relationship with time, and the term ‘month’ is really Moonth, a period based on the cycles of the Moon. The realisation that the Moon is a gigantic spacecraft is the strand that connects all the rest, not just in relation to Moon anomalies, but also to life on Earth and the conspiracy to enslave humanity. The fact is that the Reptilians in the Moon and in underground bases on Mars depend on humans and the Earth for food – their very survival. This is one key reason why they are desperate not to be exposed. Water and other resources are constantly being taken from this planet to the Moon and Mars and this is not a new phenomena, either. Ancient Zulu stories say the same.Well, far be it from me to rely on the findings of science when they're contradicted by "ancient Zulu stories."
Anyway, Icke goes on like this for 690 pages, talking about how the Moon must be hollow, that it's older than the Earth is, and has "anomalous quantities" of "metals such as brass and mica" (for the non-geologists in the studio audience, let me point out that mica isn't a metal), that particles of metallic iron on the Moon's surface are "mysteriously resistant to rusting" (not a surprise given that rusting is oxidation, a process that is unlikely to occur in a place with no atmosphere), and that the maria ("seas") are places where meteorite collisions resulted in damage, which had to be repaired by the Reptilians using "an artificial cement-like substance."
690 pages of this. And it costs $23.00, plus shipping and handling, to purchase it from Amazon.
So anyway, I'm wading through all of this, and just shaking my head, but then I saw the thing that made me shake my head so much I looked like I had a severe disorder of the central nervous system -- that this book has received 49 reviews, of which 37 gave it five stars. Here are a few selected phrases from these reviews:
- Icke is one of the very few conspiracy whistleblowers who has developed a relatively advanced spiritual awareness from which he can provide a useful context and understanding of the material he has uncovered.
- If you are sick of all this government crap then you should read this book because it really opens your eyes to the truth and makes you realize how stupid and fake this world really is.
- This could be the most important book EVER written. If you don't know where the world is headed, you need to find out and David Icke tells how we can return to freedom.
- Most informative book there is about what is happening in the world today and who is causing it. It also tells you what you can do to change it.
Reviews are, by their very nature, a skewed sample. People who review this book have (one would hope) read it, which means that the presumably huge number of people in this world who would read the book's description, see its price, and then laugh and say "no freakin' way" are already eliminated from the pool. Only once you have forked over your $23.00 (plus shipping and handling) are you going to be able to review the book, and this speaks to a certain level of, shall we say, credulity right from the starting gate.
So, anyway, I'm trying to be positive, here, which is sometimes difficult. Wingnuts will always be out there trumpeting their theories; that is, after all, what wingnuts do. And there will always be a small group of people who think that their nutty ideas make total sense, and I emphasize the words "small group" with every hopeful thought of which I am capable. For right now, I'll just try to put the whole thing out of my mind, if only to stop the voices in my head from singing, "A wimoweh, a wimoweh, a wimoweh," which is getting a little annoying.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)