Some days, I simply do not get how woo-woos think.
In some ways, though, I understand them pretty well. For example, who amongst us has not wished that the world was other than it is? Telepathy, clairvoyance, psychokinesis, the afterlife, various cryptozoological marvels -- I have felt the attractiveness of all of those, and spent time thinking (and written fiction) about what it would be like if those were real.
But what I don't get is the seemingly complete abandonment of reason that these folks frequently exhibit. When I am wrong about something, when I am presented with evidence or a logical argument that I am mistaken, I generally acquiesce with an apology. But these people?
Arguing, I find, simply makes them hold on to whatever their belief is like grim death.
I had an especially vivid demonstration of this yesterday, about a claim last week that the International Space Station had captured footage of a translucent alien creature swimming past, in the depths of space. [Source]
If you've not seen the video, you should go to the link I posted and check it out. In my opinion it's a flat hoax, although admittedly it's quite a clever one. Here's a still of the "creature," in false color and high contrast:
Well, like I said, the whole thing "screamed" hoax at me. The first thing I noticed was that in the video, the view of the space station seemed "stretched," as if it had been digitally altered. The footage didn't have the crisp lines that the high-quality cameras aboard the ISS usually provide:
There's also the problem that I'm a biologist, and I happened to recognize the "creature" in the video as being blurred footage of a very terrestrial species. The whole thing was skilfully done, but no question that it was faked. So, anyway, when this was posted and a link sent to me by a friend, I went to the site, and then I did what I should never do -- started arguing. Here's a transcript of the exchange that ensued:
Me: There are a variety of problems with this footage. First, notice how the creature is moving. It clearly has some kind of fins, and is using those and a rippling movement along its body to propel itself. That wouldn't work in space.
True Believer: Why not? How do you know how alien creatures move?
Me: It has nothing to do with not knowing about aliens. It has to do with the fact that space is nearly a vacuum, so there's nothing to push against. That kind of propulsion only works when you're going through a medium at least as dense as water.
TB: Space isn't a vacuum.
Me: Oh?
TB: Scientists have proven that all sorts of things exist in space. Vacuum energy, pair formation, plasma streams, magnetic oscillations. Space is filled with all those and more.
Me: You're seriously claiming that you could use scuba fins to swim through a magnetic field?
TB: You don't know what interactions alien tissue could have with energy in space. Aliens could have adapted to swim through plasma the way fish swim through water.
Me: You keep saying that "I don't know." I suspect you don't, either.
TB: Why are you so hostile? Why are you so desperate to prove that aliens don't exist?
Me: I'm not saying aliens as a whole don't exist. I'm saying this claim of alien life is a hoax. In any case, I know what this "alien" is, and it's not an alien, unless you could use that word to describe an arctic mollusk.
TB: What are you talking about?
Me [after brief pause to double-check photos, to see if I was remembering my invertebrate zoology correctly]: Check out pics of "sea angels" (Clione limacina). Pretty close match, isn't it? If you check out vids of sea angels swimming, you'll see what I mean. It's identical. Seems clear that the guy who created the video simply overlaid the footage from the space station with a clip of a sea angel swimming. In any case, it's not an alien, it's a sea slug.
TB: You're a biologist, and you've never heard of convergent evolution?
Me: You're seriously claiming that convergent evolution between a space creature and a sea slug explains this better than "it's a hoax?"
TB: All kinds of similarities crop up because of convergent evolution here on earth. There's no reason to believe it couldn't happen with alien evolution too.
Me [after swearing profusely at the computer, which of course my opponent couldn't hear]: Look. There's also the problem of the source of the video. This guy, Stephen Hannard -- he posts under "Alien Disclosure Group - UK," and as far as I can tell, he's deranged.
TB: Name-calling is part of your logical argument, I see.
Me: Have you checked out some of his other claims? Last year he said that the Mars rover had spotted an alien groundhog on Mars, along with a flip-flop and a fossilized finger.
TB: How do you know that those weren't true? What proof do you have?
Me: If I need to prove to you that a vaguely shoe-shaped rock is not a Martian flip-flop, I give up.
So. Yeah. Did you notice that every time I presented an argument, he simply dodged it? This guy has perfected the argument from ignorance -- if we don't know what something is, it must be _____ (fill in the blank with: aliens, Bigfoot, ghosts, angels, whatever). Once you accept that fallacious stance as logical, you become impossible to argue with. Any evidence to the contrary is simply looked upon as special pleading, or (as with my pointing out that the "alien creature" was actually footage of a terrestrial sea slug), more support that your stance was right in the first place.
Convergent evolution, my ass.
Anyhow, that's today's exercise in frustration. And I need to stop getting drawn into online arguments, my blood pressure is high enough as it is. But if you see the "alien creature swimming past the ISS" posted somewhere, I encourage you to post a comment with this link. After all, if they want to argue, they can argue with you for a change.
Skeptophilia (skep-to-fil-i-a) (n.) - the love of logical thought, skepticism, and thinking critically. Being an exploration of the applications of skeptical thinking to the world at large, with periodic excursions into linguistics, music, politics, cryptozoology, and why people keep seeing the face of Jesus on grilled cheese sandwiches.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Muzzling the scientists
Let me say, from the outset, that I am not a particularly political person.
I do vote, and I try to keep myself informed, but I find that politics in general seems mostly to fall into two classes: (1) arguing over things that are obvious, such as whether banning same-sex marriage is discrimination; and (2) arguing over things that are so complex that it's unlikely we'll ever see a solution, such as how to balance the federal budget.
So, I find politics alternately maddening and baffling, and mostly I leave the political debates to the people who relish that sort of thing. But what does make me sit up and take notice is when politicians begin to intrude on the realm of science -- which is what the government of Canada did, just last week.
In an article that a Canadian friend sent to me, entitled, "Canadian Government Votes Against... Science," we hear about a frighteningly common trend -- the desire by politicians to control what scientists research, publish, and discuss. Here's what happened:
A little over a year ago, a claim hit the media that the Canadian government was "muzzling" its scientists. At a meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, held last February, Canadian scientists discussed the push of politicians to control what scientists were doing, particularly about controversial topics. The government had the previous year issued a "protocol" that provided rules governing how scientists could interact with the media. This protocol included the following:
Andrew Weaver, also of the University of Victoria, was even more pointed. He said that the desire of the government was to keep the public "in the dark."
Some politicians took notice, and there was a measure recently introduced into parliament that read as follows:
I find this infuriating, but hardly surprising. Here in the United States, there has been so much emphasis put on spinning science news that we have gotten to the point that a significant percentage of the public doesn't even trust the facts. The scientists themselves have an agenda, political leaders claim. If scientific research presents findings that run counter to the party-approved position, the scientists must be shills.
The result: to a lot of people, even the data is suspect. At the far end of this we have articles like the one that appeared last week in Forbes entitled "Sorry, Global Warming Alarmists - the Earth is Cooling," which was such a hash of cherry-picked facts, misextrapolations, and outright lies that I barely know where to start. Beginning with the fact that the author, Peter Ferrara, is the Director of Entitlement and Budget Policy for the Heartland Institute, which has as its stated goal "promoting climate skepticism."
Because that, evidently, is an unbiased, "skeptical" stance.
It is a frightening trend. The problem is that if you can convince people that facts, that hard data, have a bias, you can convince them of damn near anything. Yes, there can be productive political arguments over how to respond to a particular set of facts; but the data are either true or false, they cannot in themselves have an agenda. And the desire of the government to control what the public knows is especially terrifying -- "Orwellian," in the words of Professor Weaver. The fact that the Canadian parliament voted down a measure that stated that "federal government scientists must be enabled to discuss openly their findings with their colleagues and the public" should scare the absolute hell out of you.
I hope, for the sake of truth, that scientists in Canada and elsewhere defy this increasing demand by politicians that they should have the right to control the free flow of scientific information, and its release to the public. It's bad enough that in many cases, governments control the purse strings, determining which research gets funding and which does not; it's worse when they want to make sure that the results of that research support the party's platform. In the words of Carl Sagan, "The suppression of uncomfortable ideas may be common in religion or in politics, but it is not the path to knowledge, and there is no place for it in the endeavor of science."
I do vote, and I try to keep myself informed, but I find that politics in general seems mostly to fall into two classes: (1) arguing over things that are obvious, such as whether banning same-sex marriage is discrimination; and (2) arguing over things that are so complex that it's unlikely we'll ever see a solution, such as how to balance the federal budget.
So, I find politics alternately maddening and baffling, and mostly I leave the political debates to the people who relish that sort of thing. But what does make me sit up and take notice is when politicians begin to intrude on the realm of science -- which is what the government of Canada did, just last week.
In an article that a Canadian friend sent to me, entitled, "Canadian Government Votes Against... Science," we hear about a frighteningly common trend -- the desire by politicians to control what scientists research, publish, and discuss. Here's what happened:
A little over a year ago, a claim hit the media that the Canadian government was "muzzling" its scientists. At a meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, held last February, Canadian scientists discussed the push of politicians to control what scientists were doing, particularly about controversial topics. The government had the previous year issued a "protocol" that provided rules governing how scientists could interact with the media. This protocol included the following:
Just as we have one department we should have one voice. Interviews sometimes present surprises to ministers and senior management. Media relations will work with staff on how best to deal with the call (an interview request from a journalist). This should include asking the programme expert to respond with approved lines.Naturally, scientists were infuriated by the demand that they toe the party line. "The Prime Minister (Stephen Harper) is keen to keep control of the message, I think to ensure that the government won't be embarrassed by scientific findings of its scientists that run counter to sound environmental stewardship," said Thomas Pedersen of the University of Victoria. "I suspect the federal government would prefer that its scientists don't discuss research that points out just how serious the climate change challenge is."
Some politicians took notice, and there was a measure recently introduced into parliament that read as follows:
That, in the opinion of the House,The measure was defeated, 157-137.
a) public science, basic research, and the free and open exchange of scientific information are essential to evidence-based policy-making;
b) federal government scientists must be enabled to discuss openly their findings with their colleagues and the public;
c) the government should maintain support for its basic scientific capacity across Canada, including immediately extending funding, until a new operator is found, to the world-renowned Experimental Lakes Area Research Facility to pursue its unique research program.
I find this infuriating, but hardly surprising. Here in the United States, there has been so much emphasis put on spinning science news that we have gotten to the point that a significant percentage of the public doesn't even trust the facts. The scientists themselves have an agenda, political leaders claim. If scientific research presents findings that run counter to the party-approved position, the scientists must be shills.
The result: to a lot of people, even the data is suspect. At the far end of this we have articles like the one that appeared last week in Forbes entitled "Sorry, Global Warming Alarmists - the Earth is Cooling," which was such a hash of cherry-picked facts, misextrapolations, and outright lies that I barely know where to start. Beginning with the fact that the author, Peter Ferrara, is the Director of Entitlement and Budget Policy for the Heartland Institute, which has as its stated goal "promoting climate skepticism."
Because that, evidently, is an unbiased, "skeptical" stance.
It is a frightening trend. The problem is that if you can convince people that facts, that hard data, have a bias, you can convince them of damn near anything. Yes, there can be productive political arguments over how to respond to a particular set of facts; but the data are either true or false, they cannot in themselves have an agenda. And the desire of the government to control what the public knows is especially terrifying -- "Orwellian," in the words of Professor Weaver. The fact that the Canadian parliament voted down a measure that stated that "federal government scientists must be enabled to discuss openly their findings with their colleagues and the public" should scare the absolute hell out of you.
I hope, for the sake of truth, that scientists in Canada and elsewhere defy this increasing demand by politicians that they should have the right to control the free flow of scientific information, and its release to the public. It's bad enough that in many cases, governments control the purse strings, determining which research gets funding and which does not; it's worse when they want to make sure that the results of that research support the party's platform. In the words of Carl Sagan, "The suppression of uncomfortable ideas may be common in religion or in politics, but it is not the path to knowledge, and there is no place for it in the endeavor of science."
Friday, March 22, 2013
Miraculous mathematics
I've blogged before about "miraculous thinking" -- the idea that an unlikely occurrence somehow has to be a miracle simply based on its improbability. But yesterday I ran into a post on the wonderful site RationalWiki that showed, mathematically, why this is a silly stance.
Called "Littlewood's Law of Miracles," after John Edensor Littlewood, the man who first codified it in this way, it goes something like this:
You hear this sort of thing all the time, though, don't you? A quick perusal of sites like Miracle Stories will give you dozens of examples of people who survived automobile accidents without a scratch, made recoveries from life-threatening conditions, were just "in the right place at the right time," and so on. And it's natural to sit up and take notice when these things happen; this is a built-in perceptual error called dart-thrower's bias. This fallacy is named after a thought experiment of being in a pub while there's a darts game going on across the room, and simply asking the question: when do you notice the game? When there's a bullseye, of course. The rest is just background noise. And when you think about it, it's very reasonable that we have this bias. After all, what has the greater evolutionary cost -- noticing the outliers when they're irrelevant, or not noticing the outliers when they are relevant? It's relatively obvious that if the unusual occurrence is a rustle in the grass, it's far better to pay attention to it when it's the wind than not to pay attention to it when it's a lion.
And of course, on the Miracle Stories webpage, no mention is made of all of the thousands of people who didn't seem to merit a miracle, and who died in the car crash, didn't recover from the illness, or were in the wrong place at the wrong time. That sort of thing just forms the unfortunate and tragic background noise to our existence -- and it is inevitable that it doesn't register with us in the same way.
So, we should expect miracles, and we are hardwired to pay more attention to them than we do to the 999,999 other run-of-the-mill occurrences that happen in a month. How do we escape from this perceptual error, then?
Well, the simple answer is that in some senses, we can't. It's understandable to be surprised by an anomalous event or an unusual pattern. (Think, for example, how astonished you'd be if you flipped a coin and got ten heads in a row. You'd probably think, "Wow, what's the likelihood?" -- but any other pattern of heads and tails, say, H-T-T-H-H-H-T-H-T-T -- has exactly the same probability of occurring. It's just that the first looks like a meaningful pattern, and the second one doesn't.) The solution, of course, is the same as the solution for just about everything; don't turn off your brain. It's okay to think, at first, "That was absolutely amazing! How can that be?", as long as afterwards we think, "Well, there are thousands of events going on around me right now that are of equally low probability, so honestly, it's not so weird after all."
All of this, by the way, is not meant to diminish your wonder at the complexity of the universe, just to direct that wonder at the right thing. The universe is beautiful, mysterious, and awe-inspiring. It is also, fortunately, understandable when viewed through the lens of science. And I think that's pretty cool -- even if no miracles occur today.
Called "Littlewood's Law of Miracles," after John Edensor Littlewood, the man who first codified it in this way, it goes something like this:
- Let's say that a "miracle" is defined as something that has a likelihood of occurring of one in a million.
- We are awake, aware, and engaged on the average about eight hours a day.
- An event of some kind occurs about once a second. During the eight hours we are awake, aware, and engaged, this works out to 28,800 events per day, or just shy of a million events in an average month. (864,000, to be precise.)
- The likelihood of observing a one-in-a-million event in a given month is therefore 1-(999,999/1,000,000)1,000,000 , or about 0.63. In other words, we have better than 50/50 odds of observing a miracle next month!
So, like the Hallmark cards say, Miracles Do Happen. In fact, they're pretty much unavoidable.
And of course, on the Miracle Stories webpage, no mention is made of all of the thousands of people who didn't seem to merit a miracle, and who died in the car crash, didn't recover from the illness, or were in the wrong place at the wrong time. That sort of thing just forms the unfortunate and tragic background noise to our existence -- and it is inevitable that it doesn't register with us in the same way.
So, we should expect miracles, and we are hardwired to pay more attention to them than we do to the 999,999 other run-of-the-mill occurrences that happen in a month. How do we escape from this perceptual error, then?
Well, the simple answer is that in some senses, we can't. It's understandable to be surprised by an anomalous event or an unusual pattern. (Think, for example, how astonished you'd be if you flipped a coin and got ten heads in a row. You'd probably think, "Wow, what's the likelihood?" -- but any other pattern of heads and tails, say, H-T-T-H-H-H-T-H-T-T -- has exactly the same probability of occurring. It's just that the first looks like a meaningful pattern, and the second one doesn't.) The solution, of course, is the same as the solution for just about everything; don't turn off your brain. It's okay to think, at first, "That was absolutely amazing! How can that be?", as long as afterwards we think, "Well, there are thousands of events going on around me right now that are of equally low probability, so honestly, it's not so weird after all."
All of this, by the way, is not meant to diminish your wonder at the complexity of the universe, just to direct that wonder at the right thing. The universe is beautiful, mysterious, and awe-inspiring. It is also, fortunately, understandable when viewed through the lens of science. And I think that's pretty cool -- even if no miracles occur today.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Blood magic
Let me tell you a story.
There once was a woman named Elizabeth Báthory, who was a countess in Hungary. Elizabeth was very beautiful, with fair skin and long, lustrous hair, and men from all over the kingdom fell in love with her. She married Ferenc Nádasdy, a valiant military man, and they lived happily together for years -- until he died in battle. By this time, Elizabeth was 43 years old, and still in the prime of health, but she began to worry that she was aging and losing her famous beauty. So she came up with a brilliant solution:
She would bathe daily in the blood of virgins.
During the next decade, Elizabeth allegedly killed 650 young girls. History doesn't record whether it worked to keep her skin looking young. Finally, the people in the surrounding areas rose up and demanded that something be done, despite Elizabeth's power and wealth. Having no choice, local authorities arrested Elizabeth, and had her imprisoned for the rest of her life in Csejte Castle -- although she was never brought to trial.
She was, apparently, batshit crazy.
Blood has long been thought to have magical powers of restoration and vitality; thus the vampire mythos, and the hundreds of cultures that included blood sacrifice as part of their ritual beliefs. The scientific world has more or less shown this all to be nonsense, with the exception that keeping your blood flowing through your arteries and veins is pretty essential to your health and vitality. But this hasn't stopped people from believing that blood has magical powers, and there are still nutjobs running around who claim they're vampires, lo unto this very day.
And this whole wacky belief system has given rise to a new "alternative medicine" fad: the "vampire facial."
In this technique, which when you hear about it will make you wonder who the hell ever thought this could be a good idea, blood is withdrawn from your arm. It is then centrifuged to spin out the plasma and platelets from the red and white blood cells. The plasma and platelets are then injected into your face, in order to "stimulate new collagen growth," "get rid of wrinkles," and "revitalize the skin."
Below is a picture of noted deep thinker Kim Kardashian getting a "vampire facial:"
And if that photograph wasn't enough to dissuade you from ever doing this, allow me to add just a couple of comments about the procedure: You are (1) poking your face full of holes, and (2) injecting fluid into those holes. Of course your skin feels fuller. You are also causing inflammation, resulting in the production of histamines, causing swelling. So, okay, the wrinkles may go away for a while, rather in the fashion of pumping air into a flat tire, but as soon as the injection sites heal, the inflammation subsides, and the body reabsorbs the fluid, you're going to be right back where you started -- wrinkled, or, in the case of Kim Kardashian, dumb as a bag of hammers.
Oh, and did I mention that the cost of the treatment is $1,500?
Me, I think I'll just stick with the wrinkles, thanks.
So, that's the latest from the world of alternative medicine and "beauty treatments." Every time I see some new thing arise on this front, I always think, "What will they come up with next?" And I'm never disappointed, because it always turns out to be more ridiculous than the last thing. Of course, the I-don't-want-to-get-old crew has yet to try out the Elizabeth Báthory method. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because so many of them live in Hollywood, and virgins are hard to come by. I dunno.
There once was a woman named Elizabeth Báthory, who was a countess in Hungary. Elizabeth was very beautiful, with fair skin and long, lustrous hair, and men from all over the kingdom fell in love with her. She married Ferenc Nádasdy, a valiant military man, and they lived happily together for years -- until he died in battle. By this time, Elizabeth was 43 years old, and still in the prime of health, but she began to worry that she was aging and losing her famous beauty. So she came up with a brilliant solution:
She would bathe daily in the blood of virgins.
During the next decade, Elizabeth allegedly killed 650 young girls. History doesn't record whether it worked to keep her skin looking young. Finally, the people in the surrounding areas rose up and demanded that something be done, despite Elizabeth's power and wealth. Having no choice, local authorities arrested Elizabeth, and had her imprisoned for the rest of her life in Csejte Castle -- although she was never brought to trial.
She was, apparently, batshit crazy.
Blood has long been thought to have magical powers of restoration and vitality; thus the vampire mythos, and the hundreds of cultures that included blood sacrifice as part of their ritual beliefs. The scientific world has more or less shown this all to be nonsense, with the exception that keeping your blood flowing through your arteries and veins is pretty essential to your health and vitality. But this hasn't stopped people from believing that blood has magical powers, and there are still nutjobs running around who claim they're vampires, lo unto this very day.
And this whole wacky belief system has given rise to a new "alternative medicine" fad: the "vampire facial."
In this technique, which when you hear about it will make you wonder who the hell ever thought this could be a good idea, blood is withdrawn from your arm. It is then centrifuged to spin out the plasma and platelets from the red and white blood cells. The plasma and platelets are then injected into your face, in order to "stimulate new collagen growth," "get rid of wrinkles," and "revitalize the skin."
Below is a picture of noted deep thinker Kim Kardashian getting a "vampire facial:"
And if that photograph wasn't enough to dissuade you from ever doing this, allow me to add just a couple of comments about the procedure: You are (1) poking your face full of holes, and (2) injecting fluid into those holes. Of course your skin feels fuller. You are also causing inflammation, resulting in the production of histamines, causing swelling. So, okay, the wrinkles may go away for a while, rather in the fashion of pumping air into a flat tire, but as soon as the injection sites heal, the inflammation subsides, and the body reabsorbs the fluid, you're going to be right back where you started -- wrinkled, or, in the case of Kim Kardashian, dumb as a bag of hammers.
Oh, and did I mention that the cost of the treatment is $1,500?
Me, I think I'll just stick with the wrinkles, thanks.
So, that's the latest from the world of alternative medicine and "beauty treatments." Every time I see some new thing arise on this front, I always think, "What will they come up with next?" And I'm never disappointed, because it always turns out to be more ridiculous than the last thing. Of course, the I-don't-want-to-get-old crew has yet to try out the Elizabeth Báthory method. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because so many of them live in Hollywood, and virgins are hard to come by. I dunno.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
The voices of the ancestors
One of the (many) reasons I love science is that as a process, it opens up avenues to knowledge that were previously thought closed. Couple that with the vast improvements in technological tools, and you have a powerful combination for exploring realms that once were not considered "science" at all.
Take, for example, historical linguistics, the discipline that studies the languages spoken by our ancestors. It is a particular fascination of mine -- in fact, it is the field I studied for my MA. (Yes, I know I teach biology. It's a long story.) I can attest to the fact that it's a hard enough subject, even when you have a plethora of written records to work with, as I did (my thesis was on the effects of the Viking invasions on Old English and Old Gaelic). When records are scanty, or worse yet, non-existent, the whole thing turns into a highly frustrating, and highly speculative, topic.
This is the field of "reconstructive linguistics" -- trying to infer the characteristics of the languages spoken by our distant ancestors, for the majority of which we have not a single written remnant. If you look in an etymological dictionary, you will see a number of words that have starred ancestral root words, such as *tark, an inferred verb stem from Proto-Indo-European that means "to twist." (A descendant word that has survived until today is torque.) The asterisk means that the word is "unattested" -- i.e., there's no proof that this is what the word actually was, in the original ancestor language, because there are no written records of Proto-Indo-European. And therein, of course, lies the problem. Because it's an unattested word, no one can ever be sure if it's correct. The inferred word comes not from any hard evidence, but from the application of one of the most fundamental rules of linguistics: Phonetic changes are regular.
As a quick illustration of this -- and believe me, I could write about this stuff all day -- we have Grimm's Law, which describes how stops in Proto-Indo-European became fricatives in Germanic languages, but they remained stops in other surviving (non-Germanic) Indo-European languages. One example is the shift of /p/ to /f/, which is why we have foot (English), fod (Norwegian), Fuss (German), fótur (Icelandic), and so on, but poús (Greek), pes (Latin), peda (Lithuanian), etc. These sorts of sound correspondences allowed us to make guesses about what the original word sounded like.
Note the use of the past tense in the previous sentence. Because now linguists have a tool that will take a bit of the guesswork out of reconstructive linguistics -- and shows promise to bringing it into the realm of a true science.
An article in Science World Report, entitled "Ancient Languages Reconstructed by Linguistic Computer Program, a team of researchers at the University of British Columbia and the University of California - Berkeley has developed software that uses inputted lexicons to reconstruct languages. (Read their original paper here.) This tool automates a process that once took huge amounts of painstaking research, and even this first version has had tremendous success -- the first run of the program, using data from 637 Austronesian languages currently spoken in Asia and the South Pacific, generated proto-Austronesian roots for which 85% matched the roots derived by experts in that language family to within one phoneme or fewer.
What I'm curious about, of course, is how good the software is at deriving root words for which we do have written records. In other words, checking its results against something other than the unverifiable speculation that historical linguists were already doing. For example, would the software be able to take lexicons from Spanish, French, Portuguese, Italian, Catalan, Provençal, and so on, and correctly infer the Latin stems? To me, that would be the true test; to see what the shortcomings were, you have to have something real to check its results against. (And for any historical linguists in my readership whose hackles got raised by my use of the words "unverifiable speculation" -- c'mon, you have to admit that what you're doing does have the inherent upside of being unfalsifiable. If you think a particular Proto-Indo-European root reconstructs as *lug and your colleague thinks it's *wuk, you can argue about it till next Sunday and you still will never be certain who's right, as there are very few Proto-Indo-Europeans around these days who could tell you for sure.)
But even so, it's a pretty nifty new tool. Just the idea that we can make some guesses at what language our ancestors spoke six-thousand-odd years ago is stunning, and the fact that someone has written software that reduces the effort to accomplish this is cool enough to set my little Language Nerd Heart fluttering. It is nice to see reconstructive linguistics using the tools of science, thus bringing together two of my favorite things. Why, exactly, I find it so exciting to know that *swey may have meant "to whistle" to someone six millennia ago, I'm not sure. But the fact that we now have a computer program that can check our guesses is pretty damn cool.
Take, for example, historical linguistics, the discipline that studies the languages spoken by our ancestors. It is a particular fascination of mine -- in fact, it is the field I studied for my MA. (Yes, I know I teach biology. It's a long story.) I can attest to the fact that it's a hard enough subject, even when you have a plethora of written records to work with, as I did (my thesis was on the effects of the Viking invasions on Old English and Old Gaelic). When records are scanty, or worse yet, non-existent, the whole thing turns into a highly frustrating, and highly speculative, topic.
This is the field of "reconstructive linguistics" -- trying to infer the characteristics of the languages spoken by our distant ancestors, for the majority of which we have not a single written remnant. If you look in an etymological dictionary, you will see a number of words that have starred ancestral root words, such as *tark, an inferred verb stem from Proto-Indo-European that means "to twist." (A descendant word that has survived until today is torque.) The asterisk means that the word is "unattested" -- i.e., there's no proof that this is what the word actually was, in the original ancestor language, because there are no written records of Proto-Indo-European. And therein, of course, lies the problem. Because it's an unattested word, no one can ever be sure if it's correct. The inferred word comes not from any hard evidence, but from the application of one of the most fundamental rules of linguistics: Phonetic changes are regular.
As a quick illustration of this -- and believe me, I could write about this stuff all day -- we have Grimm's Law, which describes how stops in Proto-Indo-European became fricatives in Germanic languages, but they remained stops in other surviving (non-Germanic) Indo-European languages. One example is the shift of /p/ to /f/, which is why we have foot (English), fod (Norwegian), Fuss (German), fótur (Icelandic), and so on, but poús (Greek), pes (Latin), peda (Lithuanian), etc. These sorts of sound correspondences allowed us to make guesses about what the original word sounded like.
Note the use of the past tense in the previous sentence. Because now linguists have a tool that will take a bit of the guesswork out of reconstructive linguistics -- and shows promise to bringing it into the realm of a true science.
An article in Science World Report, entitled "Ancient Languages Reconstructed by Linguistic Computer Program, a team of researchers at the University of British Columbia and the University of California - Berkeley has developed software that uses inputted lexicons to reconstruct languages. (Read their original paper here.) This tool automates a process that once took huge amounts of painstaking research, and even this first version has had tremendous success -- the first run of the program, using data from 637 Austronesian languages currently spoken in Asia and the South Pacific, generated proto-Austronesian roots for which 85% matched the roots derived by experts in that language family to within one phoneme or fewer.
What I'm curious about, of course, is how good the software is at deriving root words for which we do have written records. In other words, checking its results against something other than the unverifiable speculation that historical linguists were already doing. For example, would the software be able to take lexicons from Spanish, French, Portuguese, Italian, Catalan, Provençal, and so on, and correctly infer the Latin stems? To me, that would be the true test; to see what the shortcomings were, you have to have something real to check its results against. (And for any historical linguists in my readership whose hackles got raised by my use of the words "unverifiable speculation" -- c'mon, you have to admit that what you're doing does have the inherent upside of being unfalsifiable. If you think a particular Proto-Indo-European root reconstructs as *lug and your colleague thinks it's *wuk, you can argue about it till next Sunday and you still will never be certain who's right, as there are very few Proto-Indo-Europeans around these days who could tell you for sure.)
But even so, it's a pretty nifty new tool. Just the idea that we can make some guesses at what language our ancestors spoke six-thousand-odd years ago is stunning, and the fact that someone has written software that reduces the effort to accomplish this is cool enough to set my little Language Nerd Heart fluttering. It is nice to see reconstructive linguistics using the tools of science, thus bringing together two of my favorite things. Why, exactly, I find it so exciting to know that *swey may have meant "to whistle" to someone six millennia ago, I'm not sure. But the fact that we now have a computer program that can check our guesses is pretty damn cool.
Tuesday, March 19, 2013
The trials and tribulations of Pope Francis
I have it on good authority that the new pope, Francis I, is either a spy in league with extraterrestrials, or else is an emissary of the Antichrist who will oversee the destruction of Rome. Or possibly both at the same time. It's hard to tell, frankly, because my source for this, an article called "Pope Francis: His Jesuitical, Extraterrestrial, 'False Prophet,' and Political Identities," doesn't seem all that certain itself.
And I have to admit that "good authority" may be a bit of an exaggeration, here. This article was authored by none other than Alfred Lambremont Webre, who has previously claimed that President Obama has visited Mars, that the Earth would be bombarded by "fourth dimensional energy" on November 11, 2011 resulting in all of us being able to engage in "fourth dimensional sex," and that there is a brown dwarf star on the way that will reach its closest approach this year in July and which will trigger "massive electrical discharges" that will result in a catastrophic flood. (None of us can see the approach of the star except for Alfred, apparently, because the government is hiding its approach from us with chemtrails. He himself saw it using a "chronovisor," which is a machine that allows him to see the future.)
So, as you can see, he's not exactly the most credible witness right from the get-go. Be that as it may, let's give him a chance, and hear what he has to say in his rambling diatribe. Um, article.
Well, first, we have the obvious relevance of the date Pope Francis was elected:
March 13, 2013, the date of Pope Francis I nomination, was the 16th anniversary of the Phoenix Light, a massive space craft that overflew Phoenix, AZ. on March 13, 1997. March 13, 1997 is a significant event in the Exopolitical community that follows the Extraterrestrial presence on Earth.Don't expect me to believe that's a coincidence. Alfred either. You just know that the College of Cardinals was sitting there, on the first day of the conclave, and one of them said, "Hang on... let's wait till tomorrow to decide. Because then we'll be voting him in on the sixteenth anniversary of a random UFO sighting. That will send a message, won't it?" And all of the other cardinals said, "Amen, Your Holy Eminence, that sounds like a dandy idea."
Then, we have a bit about the "Prophecies of St. Malachy," about which I've previously written. The last pope in the prophecies was one "Petrus Romanus" (Peter the Roman), who was supposed to be the Antichrist's right-hand man, and was going to be in charge of the church during the Tribulation. So, there's lots of speculation as to whether Pope Francis is actually Petrus Romanus, even though he's not really Peter from Rome, he's Jorge from Argentina. But hey, close enough, right? After all, Alfred doesn't even touch on a much greater likelihood, which is that Pope Francis is actually George Bluth from Arrested Development:
Then we have a long, confusing bit about how Pope Francis, in his previous life as Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio, was a Jesuit. First of all, the Jesuits are somehow connected with research into extraterrestrials, so that's significant. Don't ask me how. Secondly, we all know how the Jesuits are an evil secret organization bent on world domination. Alfred then tells us all about the "Jesuit Oath," which includes the following lovely passage:
[I] declare and swear that His Holiness, the Pope, is Christ's Vice-Regent and is the true and only head of the Catholic or Universal Church throughout the earth; and that by the virtue of the keys of binding and loosing given to His Holiness by my Saviour, Jesus Christ, he hath power to depose heretical Kings, Princes, States, Commonwealths, and Governments, and they may be safely destroyed. Therefore to the utmost of my power I will defend this doctrine and His Holiness's right and custom against all usurpers of the heretical or Protestant authority whatever, especially the Lutheran Church of Germany, Holland, Denmark, Sweden and Norway, and the now pretended authority and Churches of England and Scotland, and the branches of same now established in Ireland and on the continent of America and elsewhere and all adherents in regard that they may be usurped and heretical, opposing the sacred Mother Church of Rome. I do now denounce and disown any allegiance as due to any heretical king, prince or State, named Protestant or Liberal, or obedience to any of their laws, magistrates or officers. I do further declare the doctrine of the Churches of England and Scotland of the Calvinists, Huguenots, and others of the name of Protestants or Masons to be damnable, and they themselves to be damned who will not forsake the same.The problem is, the "Jesuit Oath" is a hoax. It was a bit of anti-Catholic vitriol passed around by Protestant fear-mongers in the early 20th century (the same era that produced the anti-Semitic Protocols of the Elders of Zion). So, really, these two pieces of nasty nonsense constitute two of the first-ever-recorded conspiracy theories. The evil Catholics are trying to destroy the world! No, wait, it's the Jews! No, wait, its both!
In any case, the whole thing is wrapped up with aliens, somehow. In a passage that should be enshrined forever in the Annals of WTF, Alfred writes:
One hermeneutical interpretation would have "the dragon" of the Book of Revelations identified as "Extraterrestrial civilizations that the False Prophet (putatively Pope Francis I) promotes to humanity. This role of a Jesuit Pope, promoting "Official ET Disclosure" along with other major institutions such as the United Nations and the major space-faring and extraterrestrial knowledgeable nations such as the United States, the United Kingdom, Russia, and China, would certainly fulfill one dystopian view of extraterrestrial "Disclosure", that of a false flag extraterrestrial invasion such as was predicted by Dr. Wernher von Btraun [sic] on his death bed and related to Disclosure Project witness Dr. Carol Rosin.Oh. Okay. What?
So. Anyway. I know that regular readers of this blog know me well enough to realize that I'm very far from a Catholic apologist. I think a lot of the Vatican's policies are repressive, backwards, and medieval, and there's no indication that Pope Francis is anything but a party liner in this regard. And there are, apparently, some questions to be asked about the new pope's past, especially his alleged complicity with abuses by the military junta that ruled Argentina between 1976 and 1983. But other than that -- for cryin' in the sink, leave the poor guy alone. He's barely had a chance to do anything yet, good or bad. It seems a little premature to conclude that he's going to sell us out to the extraterrestrials. Or the Antichrist. Or the evil Jesuits. Or whoever. My guess is that he'll just continue the same policies of the last pope, pretty much, and things will go on in the church as they always have.
So, anyway, I'm willing to give the guy the benefit of the doubt for the time being. And given that I'm an atheist, I think that's pretty generous, don't you?
Monday, March 18, 2013
Sneak thievery
Having dealt with such issues in recent posts as the ethics of resurrecting extinct animal species, and the difficulty of addressing the problems with the American educational system, I want to look today at an even more serious problem: penis theft.
At this point, you are probably thinking, "Did I just read what I think I just read?" I know that's what I thought when I came across the article on AlterNet entitled "Penis Snatching On the Rise -- Africa's Genital-Stealing Crime Wave Hits the Countryside." So, yes: you did just read that. And yes, it's what it sounds like.
Well, sort of. My first guess would have been that for some reason, better left un-thought-about, there was a cult of some sort that was stealing the body parts off of corpses. If that's all it had been, it would have merited little more than a quick retch before moving on. But no, it's weirder than that. These people believe that somehow, guys are being relieved of their favorite body part magically, while they're still alive.
For example, the author of the article, Louisa Lombard, tells of a Sudanese traveler going through the Central African Republic town of Tiringoulou. The traveler stopped for a cup of tea, and after receiving it, shook hands with the tea seller. The unfortunate tea seller felt "an electric tingling," and at that point realized that "his penis had shrunk to a size similar to that of a baby's." There was an outcry from the alleged victim, which led to a small-scale riot, during which a second man fell prey to the same fate.
Kind of gives new meaning to the phrase "going off half-cocked," doesn't it?
Anyhow, it'd be nice to think that there would be at least one voice of rationality in the crowd who would demand that the two supposed targets drop trou and prove that they had been de-privated, but I guess no one thought of that. Everyone just sort of said, "Oh, okay. That makes sense." And alas for the poor traveler, he was subjected to a "harsh interrogation" and was eventually shot to death for his magical crimes. And as far as the leader of the armed rebel group who governs the town, and who oversaw the traveler's execution, he tells a different story; he said that the man wasn't killed, that he "mysteriously vanished from his holding cell."
And lest you think that this weird belief is confined to central Africa, allow me to point out that Singapore has had outbreaks of, um, dewangification as well. Check out, if you dare, this article, entitled, "The Great Singapore Penis Panic and American Mass Hysteria," which is about an epidemic of "koro," a condition in which men suffer "a catastrophic loss of yang energy," causing their penises to shrivel away.
Well, needless to say, there's no such thing as any of this stuff. So, for any of you guys in my readership who has read this post hunched over in a protective half-crouch, and with a horrified expression on your face, fear not. There's only one thing I know of that can cause a similar effect:
And fortunately, it's temporary and reversible.
What I find astonishing about all of this is how credulous people are, and how seldom it ever occurs to anyone to say, "Prove it." You claim that you're a psychic, and can accurately predict the future? Prove it. You claim that you can communicate with the spirits of the dead? Prove it. You claim that someone magically caused your willie to shrink? Prove it. The burden of proof lies with the person making the outrageous claim -- not, as in the case of the poor Sudanese traveler, with the one trying to defend himself from it.
But, apparently, such an approach is sadly uncommon in the world, and not only in such undeveloped, poverty-stricken areas as the Central African Republic, but in the urban First World streets of Singapore. As always, there's just one solution to all of this, and that's education in science -- the only thing I know of that is successful at eradicating myth, irrationality, and superstition. But given that here in the United States we still have a significant percentage of the population who believe in horoscopes, homeopathy, and young-earth creationism, maybe I shouldn't point fingers. After all, none of those ideas is any more scientifically supported than the claim that someone can magically steal a guy's penis by shaking his hand.
At this point, you are probably thinking, "Did I just read what I think I just read?" I know that's what I thought when I came across the article on AlterNet entitled "Penis Snatching On the Rise -- Africa's Genital-Stealing Crime Wave Hits the Countryside." So, yes: you did just read that. And yes, it's what it sounds like.
Well, sort of. My first guess would have been that for some reason, better left un-thought-about, there was a cult of some sort that was stealing the body parts off of corpses. If that's all it had been, it would have merited little more than a quick retch before moving on. But no, it's weirder than that. These people believe that somehow, guys are being relieved of their favorite body part magically, while they're still alive.
For example, the author of the article, Louisa Lombard, tells of a Sudanese traveler going through the Central African Republic town of Tiringoulou. The traveler stopped for a cup of tea, and after receiving it, shook hands with the tea seller. The unfortunate tea seller felt "an electric tingling," and at that point realized that "his penis had shrunk to a size similar to that of a baby's." There was an outcry from the alleged victim, which led to a small-scale riot, during which a second man fell prey to the same fate.
Kind of gives new meaning to the phrase "going off half-cocked," doesn't it?
Anyhow, it'd be nice to think that there would be at least one voice of rationality in the crowd who would demand that the two supposed targets drop trou and prove that they had been de-privated, but I guess no one thought of that. Everyone just sort of said, "Oh, okay. That makes sense." And alas for the poor traveler, he was subjected to a "harsh interrogation" and was eventually shot to death for his magical crimes. And as far as the leader of the armed rebel group who governs the town, and who oversaw the traveler's execution, he tells a different story; he said that the man wasn't killed, that he "mysteriously vanished from his holding cell."
And lest you think that this weird belief is confined to central Africa, allow me to point out that Singapore has had outbreaks of, um, dewangification as well. Check out, if you dare, this article, entitled, "The Great Singapore Penis Panic and American Mass Hysteria," which is about an epidemic of "koro," a condition in which men suffer "a catastrophic loss of yang energy," causing their penises to shrivel away.
Well, needless to say, there's no such thing as any of this stuff. So, for any of you guys in my readership who has read this post hunched over in a protective half-crouch, and with a horrified expression on your face, fear not. There's only one thing I know of that can cause a similar effect:
And fortunately, it's temporary and reversible.
What I find astonishing about all of this is how credulous people are, and how seldom it ever occurs to anyone to say, "Prove it." You claim that you're a psychic, and can accurately predict the future? Prove it. You claim that you can communicate with the spirits of the dead? Prove it. You claim that someone magically caused your willie to shrink? Prove it. The burden of proof lies with the person making the outrageous claim -- not, as in the case of the poor Sudanese traveler, with the one trying to defend himself from it.
But, apparently, such an approach is sadly uncommon in the world, and not only in such undeveloped, poverty-stricken areas as the Central African Republic, but in the urban First World streets of Singapore. As always, there's just one solution to all of this, and that's education in science -- the only thing I know of that is successful at eradicating myth, irrationality, and superstition. But given that here in the United States we still have a significant percentage of the population who believe in horoscopes, homeopathy, and young-earth creationism, maybe I shouldn't point fingers. After all, none of those ideas is any more scientifically supported than the claim that someone can magically steal a guy's penis by shaking his hand.
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