Fact avoidance

I've learned through the years that my feelings are an unreliable guide to evaluating reality.

Part of this, I suppose, comes from having fought depression for forty years.  I know that what I'm thinking is influenced by my neurotransmitters, and given the fact that they spend a lot of the time out of whack, my sense that five different mutually-exclusive worst-case scenarios can all happen simultaneously is probably not accurate.  It could be that this was in part what drove me to skepticism, and to my understanding that my best bet for making good decisions is to rely not on feelings, but on evidence.

It surprises me how many people don't get that.  I saw two really good examples of this in the news last week, both of them centered around embattled President Donald Trump.  In the first, he was questioned about why he was putting so much emphasis on securing the border with Mexico -- to the extent of sending in the National Guard -- when in fact, illegal border crossings are at a 46-year low.  (You could argue that current levels are still too high; but the fact is, attempted border crossings have steadily dropped from a high of 1.8 million all the way back in 2000; the level now is about a quarter of that.)

I'm not here to discuss immigration policy per se.  It's a complex issue and one on which I am hardly qualified to weigh in.  What strikes me about this is that the powers-that-be are saying, "I don't care about the data, facts, and figures, the number of illegal migrants is increasing because I feel like it is."

An even more blatant example of trust-your-feelings-not-the-facts came from presidential spokesperson Sarah Huckabee Sanders, who has the unenviable and overwhelming job of doing damage control every time Trump lies about something.  This time, it was at a roundtable discussion on taxes in West Virginia, where he veered off script and started railing about voter fraud.  "In many places, like California, the same person votes many times — you've probably heard about that," he said.  "They always like to say 'oh, that's a conspiracy theory' — not a conspiracy theory, folks. Millions and millions of people."

Of course, the states he likes to claim were sites of rampant voter fraud are always states in which he lost, because the fact that Hillary Clinton won the popular vote still keeps him up at night.  But the fact is, he's simply wrong.  A fourteen-year study by Loyola law professor Justin Levitt found that a "specific, credible allegation existed that someone pretended to be someone else at the polls" accounted for 31 instances out of a billion votes analyzed.

To make it clear: 31 does not equal "millions and millions."  And a fraud rate of 0.0000031% does not constitute "many times."

So, Trump lied.  At this point, that's hardly news.  It'd be more surprising if you turned on the news and found out Trump had told the truth about something.  But when asked about this actual data, in juxtaposition to what Trump said, Sarah Sanders said, "The president still feels there was a large amount of voter fraud."

Wait, what?

What Trump or Sanders, or (for that matter) you or I, "feel" about something is completely irrelevant.  If there's hard data available -- which there is, both on the border crossings and on allegations of voter fraud -- that is what should be listened to.  And when you say something, and are confronted by someone who has facts demonstrating the opposite, the appropriate response is, "Whoa, okay.  I guess I was wrong."

But that's if you're not Donald Trump.  Trump never admits to being wrong.  He doesn't have to, because he's surrounded himself with a Greek chorus of people like Sanders (and his sounding boards over at Fox News) who, no matter what Trump says or does, respond, "Exactly right, sir.  You're amazing.  A genius.  Your brain is YUUUGE."

Hell, he said a couple of years ago that he could kill someone in full view on 5th Avenue and not lose a single supporter, and we had a rather alarming proof of that this week when a fire broke out at Trump Tower on, actually, 5th Avenue -- which, contrary to the law, had no fire alarms or sprinkler system installed -- killing one man and injuring six.

The response?  One Trump supporter said that the man who died had deliberately set the fire to make Trump look bad, and then didn't get out in time.

Facts don't matter.  "I feel like Trump is a great leader and a staunch Christian" wins over "take a look at the hard data" every time.

I'd like to say I have a solution to this, but this kind of fact-resistance is so self-insulating that there's no way in.  It's like living inside a circular argument.  "Trump is brilliant because I feel like he's brilliant, so anything to the contrary must be a lie."  And when you have Fox News pushing this attitude hard -- ignoring any information to the contrary -- you can't escape.

If you doubt that, take a look at what Tucker Carlson was talking about while every other news agency in the world was covering the raid on Trump lawyer Michael Cohen's office: a piece on how "pandas are aggressive and sex-crazed."  (No, I'm not making this up.  An actual quote: "You know the official story about pandas — they’re cute but adorably helpless, which is why they are almost extinct.  But like a lot of what we hear, that is a lie...  The real panda is a secret stud with a thirst for flesh and a fearsome bite.")

That's some cutting-edge reporting, right there.  No wonder Fox News viewers were found in a 2012 study to be the worst-informed of all thirty media sources studied, only exceeded by people who didn't watch the news at all.

So sorry to end on a rather dismal note, but it seems like until people decide to start valuing facts above feelings, we're kind of stuck.  Honestly, the only answer I can come up with is educating children to be critical thinkers, but in the current environment of attacking teachers and public schools, I'm not sure that's feasible either.

In the interim, though, I'm gonna avoid pandas.  Because they sound a lot sketchier than I'd realized.

You say goodbye, and I say dratzo

Whilst casting about for a topic for today's post, I stumbled upon an article in Medium from June of last year entitled, "Is the Galactic Federation Real?"

Well, I don't want to leave you in suspense as to the answer, so therefore:

Short answer: No.

Long answer: NOOOOOOOOOOO.

But boy, does the author, one Lisa Galarneau, think it is.  Or, more accurately, the alien intelligence she's channeling, one "Artemis Pax," thinks so.

Yes, I know Artemis is the name of a Greek goddess, i.e., a human-created mythological figure from right here on Earth, and "Pax" is Latin, not Alienese, for "peace."  So this is a little like the episode of the abysmal 1960s science fiction show Lost in Space which featured an alien named, I shit you not, "Princess Alpha of the planet Beta."

Anyhow, Galarneau/Pax blather on a bit about the whole idea, featuring paragraphs like the following:

What we would like to assure you is that ascension into a 5D reality will be more glorious than any of you can imagine. You will all, for instance, experience positive changes to your bodies. Your reality will be flooded with divine love, which will make everyone feel amazing. Your galactic neighbors will also be involved in lifting you up even further, and you will see a technological, spiritual, societal and cultural transformation of your civilization like nothing you have ever contemplated or imagined.

Which sounds pretty hopeful, especially given some of the scary stuff that's been going down lately.  I think we could all use a nice infusion of divine love, frankly.

She goes on to explain the whole thing via a bizarre analogy to The Wizard of Oz, which she calls "a metaphor from your popular culture," further proof that she's actually an alien.  But after reading all this, I decided I needed to dig a little deeper.  Was this just one article about one wingnut claiming to be a spiritually-ascended five-dimensional alien, or was this belief more widespread?

And all I can say is: whoa.

I found the site Galactic Federation of Light, which put to rest any thought that Galarneau/Pax was one isolated nut.  Feel free to take a look at it, but please be forewarned that this site is very slow to load, and in fact resulted in my having to restart my browser twice -- perhaps because the Galactic Federation Overlords were aware that I was accessing their site in order to poke fun at them.

Be that as it may, this site explains everything you might want to know about the Galactic Federation, and features a YouTube channel and Twitter feed that has thousands of followers.

To save you the time and effort, and potential damage to your computer's hard drive, I sifted through the site and pulled out a few highlights.  It's largely composed of a series of dated posts, each stating who said it and some including which Galactic Federation Master (s)he was channeling at the time.  Here is a sampling:

Your planet is literally surrounded with craft from all corners of the universe as all beings vie for ringside seats to the greatest show in the galaxy.  Your world has long been highly regarded as one of the finest spiritual schools in the universe and entry into this University has been highly sought after.  Now, you are on the precipice of a school-wide graduation, and you are center stage for the family that has come from all parts of the universe to attend the graduation ceremonies.  (Galactic Federation through Wanderer From The Skies, July 14, 2016)

Seriously?  Humanity is "highly regarded" and the Earth is "one of the finest spiritual schools in the galaxy?"  Judging from recent events, this doesn't say much about the educational system elsewhere in the universe.  As far as the fact that we're graduating, I suppose that's good, although I hope the speeches are better than the ones at most of the graduation ceremonies I've been to.  And if someone decides to read the names of all seven billion graduates, I'm leaving.

The next three or four months are destined to be eye opening, and you will know for sure that the big changes are on the way...  So get ready to button up your safety belts and enjoy the ride. It can be seen as good or bad as you want it to be, so see the goal that is being aimed for and not the manner in which it is to be reached.  All you need know is that it results in all you have been promised.  It will be an unbelievable time with one surprise after another, and celebrations will be taking place. 

I am SaLuSa from Sirius, and tell you that our ships are gathering for the grand announcement that will allow us to land on your Earth by invitation. (SaLuSa / through Mike Quinsey, 20th July 2016)

Well, given that this was posted a year ago last summer, and I don't remember Autumn 2016 as being all that eye-opening, I guess SaLuSa from Sirius might have gotten his wires crossed somehow.

Sirius, home of SaLuSa [image courtesy of NASA/JPL]

Since the posts were in chronological order, I decided that like the Brothers of the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch, I needed to skip a bit, so I scrolled down to more current posts.  From April of 2017 I found the following:

Dratzo!  We return!  The great shift that your world is undergoing was first predicted by the Ancients over 13,000 years ago.  It is part of what they called 'the great galactic year.'  Heaven is to honor this time by establishing a great Light, which will wash away the dark and all its minions.  We were asked, over 20 of your years ago, to come here and be ready at an appointed time to carry out a mass landing of our personnel on your precious shores.  And so we came, and then saw that Heaven's dates for this undertaking were somewhat unclear.  So we adapted, and proceeded to use these moments to get to know you better.  Since our arrival here, we have become part of a sacred movement to prepare Gaia's surface humans for the requirements of the divine decrees for this planet.  One of them specifies the need to resolve the issue of the dark minions' labyrinth of control on your planet through sacred cleansing.  In the main this will start with a formal, immense change in the way your societies operate and in the way you perceive the nature of your reality.  (Washta, Sirius Star-Nation, Galactic Federation of Light & Ascended Masters, 17th April 2017)

"Dratzo?"  Is this some kind of greeting from Sirius, or something?  I think we should all begin to greet each other in this fashion from now on, so that "Washta" and his buddies feel at home when they arrive.  Maybe it also comes along with a cool hand sign, sort of like the Vulcan "Live Long and Prosper" thing, only way more ridiculous.

"Washta" had a further missive that he delivered late last year:

Dratzo!  We return!  We have been informed that several major banks worldwide are nearly ready to transfer ownership and management.  This is part of the massive shift of financial power out of the hands of the dark into those of the Light, and is the result of recent maneuvers by the Ascended Masters.

Furthermore, the time has come to consolidate the funds that were first posited by Saint Germaine in the early 18th century, and by Quan Yin in the 7th century.  These large reserves of gold and silver are the basis for shifting wealth on your world away from a select few over to those who are fully committed to the creation of universal prosperity for the planet.  Accompanying this transfer is the new banking system which will be completely transparent in its varied transactions.  The new banking is rooted in the unprecedented injunction that banks be the divine instruments of the Light.  They are to be used to manage various corporations (special partnerships) charged with specific and temporary mandates: to distribute technologies and related services to benefit the health and well being of your global populations.  (Washta, Sirius Star-Nation, Galactic Federation of Light & Ascended Masters, 24th April 2017)

Well, that sounds hopeful enough. I wouldn't mind it if the banks, and corporations in general, started being more concerned with the health and well-being of global populations, instead of what they mostly seem to be doing lately, which is buying congresspersons and kissing Donald Trump's ass.  But at this point, I stopped reading, because I was afraid my browser would crash again, and also because my prefrontal cortex was beginning to make alarming little whimpering noises.

What strikes me about this is that the people who believe this stuff (and there seem to be quite a few, judging from the posts and the comments that followed) go way beyond wishful thinking into that more rarefied air of delusion.  I mean, it'd be nice if there were some Galactic Good Guys who were ready to Storm The Beaches and reorganize world governments so that they Played Nice, but there's just this teensy little problem, which is that there's no evidence whatsoever that any of it is true.  And this brings up a troubling question, to wit: what is it that makes someone swallow something like this?  I mean, beyond the rather sad answer that the person in question is mentally ill.  And I just can't believe that mental illness accounts for all of the believers in conspiracy theories, pseudoscience, cults, superstitions... and Galactic Federations.

I actually know people who are seemingly quite rational, who hold down jobs and raise families and interact socially, and yet who have some pretty bizarre beliefs on a single topic -- astrology, homeopathy, HAARP, the Illuminati, psychic contact with animals.  What in the human brain can become so untethered, in an otherwise intact mind, that a person loses the ability in that instance (and that instance only) to decide if something is real, has supporting evidence, makes sense?

I don't know the answer, but I do think the whole thing is a little scary.  So I'll end on that note.  Well, I do have one more thing to say: Dratzo!

Dodging the Great Filter

There's a cheery idea called "The Great Filter," have you heard of it?

The whole concept came up when considering the possibility of extraterrestrial intelligence, especially vis-à-vis the Fermi Paradox, which can be summed up as, "If intelligent aliens are common in the universe, where is everyone?"  Despite fifty-odd years of intensive searching, there has never been incontrovertible evidence of someone out there.  I maintain hope, however; the universe is a big, big place, and even the naysayers admit we've only surveyed the barest fraction of it.

The Arecibo Radio Telescope [image courtesy of photographer David Broad and the Wikimedia Commons]

"The Great Filter" is an attempt to parse why this may be, assuming it's not because alien civilizations are communicating with each other (and/or sending signals to us) using a technology we don't understand yet and can't detect.  You can think of the Great Filter as being a roadblock -- where, along the way, do circumstances prevent life forming on other planets, then achieving intelligence?

There are a few candidates for the Great Filter, to wit:

• the abiotic synthesis of complex organic molecules.  This seems unlikely, as organic molecule synthesis appears to be easy, as long as there's no nasty chemical like molecular oxygen around to rip them apart as fast as they form.  In an anoxic atmosphere -- such as the one the Earth almost certainly had five billion years ago -- organic molecules of all sorts can form with wild abandon.
• assembly of those organic molecules into cells.  Again, this has been demonstrated in the lab to be easy.  Hydrophobic interactions make lipids (or other amphipathic molecules, ones with a polar end and a nonpolar end) form structures that look convincingly like cells with little more encouragement than occasional agitation.
• the evolution of those cells into a complex life form.  Now we're on shakier ground; no one knows how common this may be.  Although natural selection seems to be universal, all this would do is cause the cells that are the best/most efficient at replicating themselves to become more common.  There's no particular reason that complex life forms would necessarily result from that process.  As eminent evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins put it, "Evolution is the law of whatever works."
• the development of intelligence.  Again, there's no reason to expect this to occur everywhere.  Intelligent life forms aren't even the most common living things on Earth -- far from it.  We are vastly outnumbered not only by insects, but bacteria -- methanogens, a group of bacteria species that live in anaerobic sediment on the ocean floor, are thought to outnumber all other living organisms on Earth put together.
• an intelligent species surviving long enough to stand a chance of sending an identifiable signal.  That the Great Filter consists of intelligent life evolving and then proceeding to do something stupid and destroying itself has been nicknamed the "We're Fucked" model.  If all of the preceding scenarios turn out not to be serious issues -- and at least the first two seem that way -- then it could be that intelligence pops up all over the place, but only lasts a few decades before spontaneously combusting.

Most biologists think that if a Great Filter does exist, #5 is probably the best candidate.  There's nothing we know about biology that precludes any of the others; even if (for example) the evolution of intelligence is slow and arduous, given the size of the universe, there are probably millions of planets that host, or have hosted, intelligent life.

On the other hand, if they only host that life for a few years before it commits suicide en masse, it could explain why we're not getting a lot of "Hey, We're Here!" signals from the cosmos.

When people consider what could trigger an intelligent civilization to self-destruct, most people think of the development of advanced weaponry.  It's like a planet-wide application of the Principle of Chekhov's Gun (from 19th century Russian author Anton Chekhov): "If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter it absolutely must go off.  If it's not going to be fired, it shouldn't be hanging there."  If we develop weapons of mass destruction, eventually we'll use them -- destroying ourselves in the process.

It reminds me of the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode "The Arsenal of Freedom," in which a civilization becomes the salespeople of increasingly advanced weapon systems -- until they develop one so powerful that once activated, it can't be stopped, and it proceeds to wipe out the people who made it.

Of course, there's another possibility (because one way of self-destructing isn't enough...).  This was just brought up by inventor and futurist Elon Musk, who last week declared that he wants us to put the brakes on artificial intelligence development.  Musk says that if we develop a true artificial intelligence, it will not only inevitably take over, it will eventually look at humanity as "in the way" -- and destroy us:

[I]f we’re building a road, and an anthill happens to be in the way, we destroy it.  We don’t hate ants, we’re just building a road.  So, goodbye, anthill.  

If AI has a goal and humanity just happens to be in the way, it will destroy humanity as a matter of course without even thinking about it.  No hard feelings...  By the time we are reactive in AI regulation, it’ll be too late.  Normally the way regulations are set up is when a bunch of bad things happen, there’s a public outcry, and after many years a regulatory agency is set up to regulate that industry.  It takes forever.  That, in the past, has been bad but not something which represented a fundamental risk to the existence of civilization...  

At least when there’s an evil dictator, that human is going to die.  But for an AI there would be no death.  It would live forever, and then you’d have an immortal dictator, from which we could never escape.

It's possible that we could fall prey not to our weapon systems, but to something few of us have considered dangerous -- a created artificial intelligence.  (Although you'd think that anyone who has watched either I, Robot or any of the Terminator movies would understand the risk.)

So do advanced civilizations inevitably develop AI systems, that then turn on them?  It would certainly explain why we're not receiving greetings from the stars.  It's possible that the Great Filter lies ahead of us -- a prospect that I consider a little terrifying.

Anyhow, sorry for being a downer.  Besides Musk's recent pronouncements, the idea has been floating around in my head given all of the idiotic things our leaders have been doing recently.  I guess if we can survive for the next few years, we might break through the suspicion and violence and parochialism that has characterized our species pretty much forever.  I'm going to try to remain optimistic -- as my dad used to say, "I'd rather be an optimist who is wrong than a pessimist who is right."

On the other hand, I think I'll end with a quote from theologian and Orthodox Rabbi Jonathan Sacks: "Science will explain how but not why. It talks about what is, not what ought to be.  Science is descriptive, not prescriptive; it can tell us about causes but it cannot tell us about purposes."

So maybe Elon Musk's adjuration to caution is well advised.

Unexpected asymmetry

The question "why are we here?" has vexed scientists and philosophers alike.

The philosophical answers to this are beyond the purview of this blog, and, frankly, beyond my expertise.  I've got a decent background in a lot of areas -- one of the unforeseen benefits of changing one's major over and over -- but philosophy is a subject on which I am unqualified to weigh in.

The scientific twist on this question, however, is equally thorny.  Why is there something rather than nothing?  The current model of the Big Bang Theory predicts with considerable certainty that when the universe formed, there should have been equal amounts of matter and antimatter.  The two are (in a physics sense) symmetrical; every property that matter has, with the exception of mass, antimatter has the opposite.  Positrons (anti-electrons) are positively charges; anti-protons are negative.

The rub is that if you look around the universe, you don't see antimatter.  At all.  Which is, on one level, unsurprising; when matter and antimatter meet, the result is mutual annihilation (and the release of tremendous energy, as per E = mc^2), as any aficionado of Star Trek knows.

In another way, however, this is puzzling.  If matter and antimatter were created in equal amounts during the Big Bang, in the intervening years it should all have mutually annihilated, leaving behind nothing but gamma rays.  If the symmetrical production of matter and antimatter is correct, then our universe should be devoid of anything but energy -- and we wouldn't be here to consider the question.

[image courtesy of NASA/JPL]

So physicists have been refining their techniques to study antimatter, to see if there's something to account for the imbalance.  Just three days ago, a paper appeared in the journal Nature, by Mostafa Ahmadi of the University of Liverpool et al., called, "Characterization of the 1S-2S Transition in Antihydrogen," in which the team created molecules of antihydrogen -- made of an antiproton and a positron -- to see if it exhibited different properties than ordinary hydrogen.  They did this by creating 90,000 antiprotons, mixing them with five million positrons, and allowing them to form atoms -- then trapping a small number of these in a "magnetic bottle."  (Remember that antimatter violently explodes if it comes into contact with ordinary matter.)

The outcome: antihydrogen seems to behave exactly like ordinary hydrogen.  It emits the same spectral lines (the particular property Ahmadi et al. were studying).  As Aylin Woodward wrote in LiveScience:

As expected, hydrogen and antihydrogen ­— matter and antimatter — behave identically. Now, we just know that they're identical at a measurement of parts per trillion.  However, [coauthor Stefan] Ulmer said the 2-parts-per-trillion measurement does not rule out the possibility that something is deviating between the two types of matter at an even greater level of precision that has thus far defied measurement. 

As for [coauthor Jeffrey] Hangst, he's less concerned with answering the question of why our universe of matter exists as it does without antimatter — what he calls "the elephant in the room."  Instead, he and his group want to focus on making even more precise measurements, and exploring how antimatter reacts with gravity.

The results of this study don't rule out one possibility -- which is that some distant galaxies may actually be composed of antimatter.  As the Ahmadi et al. study shows, it's increasingly unlikely we'd be able to tell that from a distance.  The spectral lines of antihydrogen in an "antisun" would look the same as those of hydrogen from an ordinary star, so there'd be no way to tell unless you went there (which would be unfortunate for you, because you'd explode in a burst of gamma rays).

Whether such an antimatter galaxy would have all of the same people in it, only the good guys would be evil and would have beards, is a matter of conjecture.

But if, as many scientists believe, there really is an imbalance between the amount of matter and antimatter -- if unequal amounts were created during the Big Bang, so during the mutual annihilation that followed, some ordinary matter was left over -- it points to some physics that we haven't even begun to understand.

Which is pretty exciting.  As I pointed out in yesterday's post, unanswered questions are the bread-and-butter of scientific research.  The team is hoping to have even more precise measurements made by the end of 2018, at which point CERN is shutting down for two years for upgrades.  As Jeffrey Hangst put it, "We have other tricks up our sleeve.  Stay tuned."

Which even Evil Spock would have approved of, I think.

When the volcano blows

Nobel Prize-winning physicist Richard Feynman once said, "I would rather have questions that cannot be answered than answers that cannot be questioned."

The strength of science is in its ability to self-correct, but this does engender a problem; it may well be that some of the questions we're asking will never be satisfactorily answered.  There are sometimes when we must admit ignorance, and hold our determination to have everything figured out in abeyance -- possibly indefinitely.

That may be the situation we're in with regards to an interesting question surrounding the largest volcanic eruption in modern times, the eruption of Toba in the Indonesian archipelago.  This eruption dwarfed Mount Saint Helens, the 1883 eruption of Krakatoa, and even the catastrophic eruption of Tambora (also in Indonesia) in 1815, that threw so much in the way of debris up into the atmosphere that it caused the "Year Without a Summer," in which Quebec City got a foot of snow -- in mid-July.

The Toba eruption, 74,000 years ago, was bigger than all of the above; by some estimates, it threw a hundred times more in the way of pulverized rock into the air than Tambora did.  It is certain that it caused not only localized devastation, but worldwide climate change.  And the conventional wisdom is that it nearly wiped out the human species -- that we were driven into a genetic bottleneck, in which only a few survivors became the ancestors of everyone currently alive today.

The Toba caldera [image courtesy of the Wikimedia Commons]

Michael Rampino and Stanley Ambrose, of New York University, were amongst the first proponents of the Toba bottleneck theory.  In their paper "Volcanic Winter in the Garden of Eden: The Toba Supereruption and the Late Pleistocene Human Population Crash," published in 2000 in the Papers of the Geological Society of America, they write:

Genetic studies indicate that sometime prior to ca. 60,000 yr ago humans suffered a severe population bottleneck (possibly only 3,000-10,000 individuals), followed eventually by rapid population increase, technological innovations, and migrations.  The climatic effects of the paroxysmal Toba eruption could have caused the bottleneck, and the event might have been a catalyst for the technological innovations and migrations that followed.  The present results as to the predicted environmental and ecological effects of the eruption lend support to a possible connection between the Toba event and the human population bottleneck, and suggest that similar bottlenecks among other organisms might be expected at about the same time. 

However, it appears that the question is far from settled.  A paper by Eugene Smith et al. that came out last week in Nature, "Humans Thrived in South Africa Through the Toba Eruption about 74,000 Years Ago," completely counters the conventional wisdom -- and suggests that if the bottleneck did occur, it may not have been the fault of the volcano:

Approximately 74 thousand years ago (ka), the Toba caldera erupted in Sumatra.  Since the magnitude of this eruption was first established, its effects on climate, environment and humans have been debated.  Here we describe the discovery of microscopic glass shards characteristic of the Youngest Toba Tuff—ashfall from the Toba eruption—in two archaeological sites on the south coast of South Africa, a region in which there is evidence for early human behavioural complexity.  An independently derived dating model supports a date of approximately 74 ka for the sediments containing the Youngest Toba Tuff glass shards.  By defining the input of shards at both sites, which are located nine kilometres apart, we are able to establish a close temporal correlation between them.  Our high-resolution excavation and sampling technique enable exact comparisons between the input of Youngest Toba Tuff glass shards and the evidence for human occupation.  Humans in this region thrived through the Toba event and the ensuing full glacial conditions, perhaps as a combined result of the uniquely rich resource base of the region and fully evolved modern human adaptation.

The reason I bring this up -- besides the fact that I'm interested in human population genetics, and it's cool -- is that this may be a question that we simply don't have the data to answer.  It's possible that the "thriving" population that Smith et al. found was a localized group of lucky people, and elsewhere, humanity got clobbered.  On the other hand, it could be that the Rampino and Ambrose paper was simply wrong -- that the population genetics studies, which are not without their a priori assumptions, overestimated the extent of the Toba bottleneck (or the whatever-caused-it bottleneck).

But -- and this is the most critical point -- you keep looking.  If there's no definitive solution, you are forced to admit it, but the research doesn't stop there.  Ignorance is the beginning, not the end, of the scientific process.

So we may never know exactly how close humanity came to extinction 74,000 years ago.  The important thing is that we've asked the question -- and that science gives us a means to evaluate the evidence, and determine if a particular answer is supported.  And what we learn along the way will open up further avenues for exploration, enough to keep the scientific world occupied for a long, long time.

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

Nature walk

Mark Twain once said, "The difference between fiction and reality is that fiction has to be believable."

I ran across a particularly good example of that yesterday over at the site Mysterious Universe.  It's the story of one Katherine Brewster, a 27-year-old woman from England, who was visiting Brazil.  On the morning of March 26, she went for a walk down a trail in the jungle... and didn't return.

I've been to the jungle -- specifically, the Amazon lowlands of Ecuador and the Taman Negara region of Malaysia -- and I can say from personal experience that they are not places where you'd want to get lost.  The jungle abounds in plants with various kinds of toxins, not to mention sharp spines.  Many of the animals there specifically want to kill you in unpleasant ways.  Because of the high biodiversity and extreme competition for niches, the organisms there have evolved some pretty terrifying adaptations -- venom, talons, and big, nasty, pointy teeth to name three.  In Malaysia, I found out that they even had terrestrial leeches -- bloodsucking critters who hide in the leaf litter and then crawl up your leg to find a nice spot to fasten on.

I'm not normally squeamish, but these guys skeeved me out so much that I took to dousing my boots daily in a repellent containing DEET.  It worked, but if I ever throw those boots away, I'm going to have to file an Environmental Impact Statement.

[image courtesy of the Wikimedia Commons]

So getting lost there would be a seriously bad idea, which is why Katherine Brewster's friends and family were in a panic.  When a search party found no trace, and two, then three days went by, everyone feared the worst.  But then five days later she walked out the jungle, covered with cuts, bruises, and insect stings, saying that a "divine voice" had told her to trek into the wilderness, and while she was there she learned to talk with the plants, who had taught her how to perform photosynthesis.

At this juncture, I feel obliged to tell my readers that I'm not making this up.

Besides becoming photosynthetic, Brewster also said the plants told her about this thing called the "morphogenetic field."  Here's her explanation:

[C]onsciousness within form connects everything. We have access to the whole universe, all we need to do is to detach ourselves from the material.  We are thus the intrinsic consciousness of the universe.

Whatever that means.  As far as how she avoided starving, she said that the plants themselves told her which ones were safe to eat:

The plants were taking to me, telling me which ones I could eat, which ones I could make tea with, or to heal a wound with.  The messages would come in words. It was more like having a conversation with the plants.

I'm not entirely sure that even if plants could talk, I'd believe what they said.  My sense is that the multiflora rose currently taking over my entire back yard, for example, is actively evil.  It's constantly doing things like sitting there, looking innocuous, then when I get a little too close, or worse, come at it with a pair of clippers, it reaches out and skewers me with thorns as sharp as hypodermic needles.  My son, who sometimes has more good intentions than sense, once attacked a multiflora rose bush with a machete.  He was successful at hacking it back some, but came out of the encounter looking like he'd been mauled by a jaguar.

Brewster, on the other hand, seemed to view everything she encountered on her little impromptu nature walk as being benevolent.  She even said she came to an understanding with the insects -- specifically, that they could bite her or sting her if they wanted to.  She said that she needed to "learn from the experience," which doesn't to me sound like an "understanding" so much as a statement of "fuck it, I give up."  I'm not sure what you could learn from a wasp sting other than "It hurts like hell," but for some reason she felt the need to let the bugs know that she meant them no harm.

My guess is that the wasps all went back to their nests and told their friends where she was.  "Go sting this chick," they probably said, in Wasp.  "She just kind of stands there with this bemused smile on her face."

Wasps are a little like multiflora rose in that respect.

So anyway, Brewster said she learned a lot from her experience, most strikingly how to synthesize her own food using sunlight as an energy source.  Myself, I didn't think that's something that could be taught.  I thought you needed all these enzyme systems and subcellular structures and so on in order to photosynthesize.  But I'm just a biologist.  What do I know about morphogenetic fields, and whatnot?

Amazingly, Brewster also says she's ready to go back in and do another Back-to-Nature trek again.  I guess the plants haven't taught her enough yet.  Maybe this time she'll learn how to make flowers come out of her ass, or something.  I dunno.  But one thing I'm sure of: the wasps are probably already preparing their welcome.

Networks and creativity

It's no wonder I'm interested in the neurological origins of creativity.

Besides the fact that I'm a fiction writer -- so coming up with creative and engaging lies is basically my stock-in-trade -- I'm also a lifelong musician.  And I'm not the only one in my family.  They're all creative in various ways.  My father was an amateur jewelry-maker and designed and built stained-glass windows in his spare time.  My mom was a ceramic artist and exceptionally talented oil painter.  My wife's art consists of using handwritten text, much of it almost microscopic, in combination with watercolors and glass etching to create pieces of an intricacy that nearly beggars belief.  (Take ten minutes and check it out; I can almost guarantee you've never seen anything quite like it.)  Our older son is a talented sketch artist and cartoonist, and our younger makes his living as a professional glassblower.

So I can say with all due modesty that we're a pretty creative bunch.

As far as where it all comes from, that's a little trickier.  The nature/nurture issue rears its ugly head here; it's certainly a possibility that creativity is to some extent genetic, but (in the case of my kids, for example) they were raised by parents who were constantly looking for new ideas and modes of expression, so it's natural enough that they gravitated that way themselves.  But last month, a paper  was published in The Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences called "Robust Prediction of Individual Creative Ability from Brain Functional Connectivity," by Roger Beaty et al., which gives some credence to the fact that whatever its ultimate cause, creativity has a definite biological underpinning.

What the researchers did was to use fMRI data from 183 individuals who were engaged in a classical divergent thinking task (such as, "Think of as many possible uses for a paperclip as you can").  People vary greatly in their competence at these sorts of things; an average person might be able to come up with twenty or so, but a highly creative person can generate many more -- usually by questioning the baseline assumption of the task (for example, does it have to be a standard paperclip made of metal?  Could it be made of styrofoam?  Could it be a hundred feet tall?).

What they found was that the people who scored as the most creative (the highest on the divergent thinking scale) had a different fundamental connectivity in their brains.  The authors write:

At the behavioral level, we found a strong correlation between creative thinking ability and self-reported creative behavior and accomplishment in the arts and sciences (r = 0.54).  At the neural level, we found a pattern of functional brain connectivity related to high-creative thinking ability consisting of frontal and parietal regions within default, salience, and executive brain systems.  In a leave-one-out cross-validation analysis, we show that this neural model can reliably predict the creative quality of ideas generated by novel participants within the sample.  Furthermore, in a series of external validation analyses using data from two independent task fMRI samples and a large task-free resting-state fMRI sample, we demonstrate robust prediction of individual creative thinking ability from the same pattern of brain connectivity.  The findings thus reveal a whole-brain network associated with high-creative ability comprised of cortical hubs within default, salience, and executive systems—intrinsic functional networks that tend to work in opposition—suggesting that highly creative people are characterized by the ability to simultaneously engage these large-scale brain networks.

So the presence of this connectivity between different parts of the brain acts as a good predictor of the capacity for creative thought, and (apparently) also correlates with creative behavior (e.g. taking up art, music, writing, dance, and so on).

Which probably explains why it's so difficult to teach creativity.  In my experience both in writing and in music, it's not hard to teach someone to improve their skills (although in practice, it does take a lot of work on the part of the student), but it's nearly impossible to teach creativity itself.  In writing, training someone to generate novel ideas is a bit of an uphill battle.  In music, learning how to play expressively can be equally challenging.  I distinctly remember one of my flute students who had hired me specifically to teach her how to play with feeling -- her playing, she told me, had been characterized as "cold" and "mechanical."  Over a period of a few weeks, I found something very interesting about her.  Technically, she was a better flutist than I am.  Her sight-reading ability was certainly leaps and bounds beyond mine.  But if she wasn't told how to play something -- if there were no dynamic markings of "fortissimo" and "pianissimo" on the page, for example -- she had no idea what to do with it.

At first, I was convinced she just had never been shown how to recognize the emotional content of music, but could be taught to do it.  I tried to start with the simple stuff first.  We took a piece of Shetland folk music that, to me, is heartwrenchingly emotional -- the lament "Da Slockit Light."  I played it for her completely flat, no dynamics, and asked her to try to identify for me how she would add dynamics to increase its emotional impact -- where, for example, to play louder or softer, where the emotional climax of the tune was, and so on.

She couldn't do it.  She was trying -- that much was clear -- but it became quickly obvious that she was guessing.  So I played it for her with the dynamic structure as I heard it, and she said, "That was really pretty, but I don't know how you figured that out."

I find a similar thing in my biology classes.  The final project is that the students do a design-your-own-experiment -- they come up with an idea they want to test, and figure out how they could create an experiment to find the answer.  Some students jump right in; their problem often is that they come up with too many ideas, and have a hard time winnowing it down to a single one.  But some students find this task nearly impossible.  I have some methods for helping them at least generate an idea they can work with, but the process of coming up with a creative question to ask about the world is difficult and frustrating.

I wonder if it's all the same thing, really, and might have to do with the multiply-connective brain networks identified by Beaty et al.  All of these things require you to link disparate realms -- sounds with emotions, media with visual impact, scientific questions with novel methods.

Whether this connectivity is genetic or comes from early exposure and training is still an open question, of course.  But it does show one thing -- being able to think outside the box requires your brain to have boxes with distinctly blurry edges.