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, February 11, 2019

Oarfish, earthquakes, and shadow people

I'm perpetually astonished at how little it takes to get the woo-woos going.

I suppose, though, that's the definition of confirmation bias -- taking thin evidence (or skimpy anecdote) as incontrovertible support for what you already believed.  Me, I try to approach stuff with more caution -- I'm not perfect, but I do my best when confronted with a strange or intriguing story to stop and think, "Wait a moment, how do I know this is true... and means what people are saying it means?"

I ran into two particularly good examples of that yesterday.  In the first, we have people saying that the appearance of three dead oarfish in coastal Japan is indicative that they're in for a major undersea earthquake and tsunami.  Now, there's no doubt that seeing an oarfish would make you sit up and take notice; they live in deep waters and are usually only seen when they're dead or dying, and can get up to eleven meters long.  (Yes, I double-checked that statistic, and it's correct.)

American servicemen displaying a dead oarfish they found off the coast of California in 1996 [Image is in the Public Domain]

So I suppose it's no wonder that people stop and say, "Okay, that's weird," when they see one.  But oarfish are not uncommon, despite seldom being seen; and there are lots of cases of dead oarfish washing up on shore that were not followed by geological catastrophes.   "I have around twenty specimens of this fish in my collection so it’s not a very rare species, but I believe these fish tend to rise to the surface when their physical condition is poor, rising on water currents, which is why they are so often dead when they are found," said Hiroyuki Motomura, professor of ichthyology at Kagoshima University.  "The link to reports of seismic activity goes back many, many years, but there is no scientific evidence of a connection so I don’t think people need to worry."

Which, of course, will have precisely zero effect on the woo-woos.  What the hell does some silly scientist know about, um, science?  There will be an earthquake, you'll see!  (Of course, it helps that the oarfish were found on the coast of Japan, because Japan is -- stick with me, here -- a freakin' earthquake zone.)

The other story comes from a perusal of some twelve million documents that were declassified two years ago by the CIA.  This started all the conspiracy theorists sifting through them, because of course if the CIA wanted to keep an evil conspiracy secret, the first thing they'd do is declassify all the files surrounding it.  But even the wooiest woo-woo takes a while to go through twelve million files, so it was only a couple of weeks ago that we found out that in the files were photographs of...

... "shadow people."

We're told about how spooky and eerie these photographs are, and how they could be aliens or ghosts, or connected to MKUltra or the Illuminati or god alone knows what else.  "The silhouettes are composed of visual noise, almost like television static," we're told, "and have empty voids where their faces should be."  There were two of them, we find out, and each silhouette has a number on it -- 1569 on one, 1572 on the other.

I thought, "Okay, that does sound pretty creepy."  And naturally, I wanted to see the images myself.  So I clicked the link, and here's what I saw:


And I said -- this is a direct quote -- "You have got to be fucking kidding me right now."

This isn't a photograph, it's a drawing.  And not even a very good one.  (In the interest of rigorous research, I looked at the other one, which is identical except for saying "1572" and facing the other direction.)  It is mildly curious that these would be in CIA files, although I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out that the CIA people stuck 'em in there when they declassified the files in order to watch the woo-woos leap about and make excited little squeaking noises.

Which is exactly what happened.

The universe is a wonderful, complex, intriguing, mysterious place.  There is plenty to investigate, plenty to be amazed at, without making shit up or stretching pieces of observable evidence to the snapping point.  So let's all calm down a little, okay?  I'm sure Japan will eventually have another major earthquake (cf. my previous comment about earthquake zones), and I'm also sure there'll be weird random things in the CIA files, whether or not my surmise about people sticking them in deliberately to stir the pot turns out to be true.  But grabbing those little pieces of data and running off the cliff with them is not advisable.

Confirmation bias, unfortunately, makes a terrible parachute.

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

A particularly disturbing field in biology is parasitology, because parasites are (let's face it) icky.  But it's not just the critters that get into you and try to eat you for dinner that are awful; because some parasites have evolved even more sinister tricks.

There's the jewel wasp, that turns parasitized cockroaches into zombies while their larvae eat the roach from the inside out.  There's the fungus that makes caterpillars go to the highest branch of a tree and then explode, showering their friends and relatives with spores.   Mice whose brains are parasitized by Toxoplasma gondii become completely unafraid, and actually attracted to the scent of cat pee -- making them more likely to be eaten and pass the microbe on to a feline host.

Not dinnertime reading, but fascinating nonetheless, is Matt Simon's investigation of such phenomena in his book Plight of the Living Dead.  It may make you reluctant to leave your house, but trust me, you will not be able to put it down.





Saturday, February 9, 2019

The face in the mirror

One of the most relied-upon tests of animal intelligence is the mirror test.  The idea is to see if an animal realizes that its reflection in a mirror is itself, or if it thinks it's another animal.  A lot of primates pass the mirror test -- if you put a mark on a chimp's cheek and show it its reflection, it will immediately reach toward its cheek to wipe off the mark rather than reach toward the reflection.

Most dogs don't pass the mirror test, but some can.  My hyper-intelligent but emotionally-conflicted border collie/coonhound cross, Doolin, barked at her own reflection -- once.  Confronted with a full-length mirror, she went into attack-the-intruder mode, for about five seconds, then fell silent, and kind of did a doggie shrug.  "Oh," she seemed to think.  "I get it.  That's me."  And she never barked at her reflection again.

My bluetick/redbone hound Lena, though -- who is, to put it kindly, on the opposite side of the intelligence spectrum from Doolin -- spends many hours in the summer entertaining herself by barking at her own reflection in our pond.  "I'll get you, Water Dog!  Get out of my pond immediately!"

She also spent a long time barking furiously at something out in the yard last summer.  I went to investigate, thinking she might have cornered a groundhog or something, and it turned out to be a stick.

To be fair, it was a pretty threatening-looking stick, but still.

In general, most other animals can't pass the mirror test.  Male betta fish, for example, will hurl themselves at a reflection until they injure themselves.  But new research from Osaka City University, led by behaviorist Masanori Kohda, suggests that some fish might be a good bit cleverer.

Cleaner wrasses (Labroides spp.) are a group of small marine fish that make a living picking and eating parasites from other fish.  Such behavior isn't necessarily indicative of intelligence; there are also cleaner shrimp that do the same thing and don't show any particular sign of extraordinary brainpower.  But the wrasses in Kohda's aquarium showed an interesting response when confronted with a mirror.  First, they attacked the reflection, but that behavior died down after a few days (it never does with bettas).  But instead of simply ignoring the reflection -- which might indicate they'd just given up trying to chase the intruder off -- the wrasses began swimming upside down in front of the reflection, as if they were inspecting themselves from another angle.

Bluestreak Cleaner Wrasse [Image is in the Public Domain]

So Kohda and his team wondered if this might be an indication that wrasses could pass the mirror test.  They took some wrasses and marked the underside of their throats, and put them in front of a mirror.  Instead of trying to pick the mark off their reflection, they scraped their throats on the bottom of the tank -- as if they'd recognized the mark was on themselves and were trying to rub it off.

Not all scientists are convinced by this evidence, however.  "True, self-scraping is not a behavior one would expect if these fish interpret their reflection as another individual, but is this enough reason to conclude that they perceive the fish in the mirror as themselves?" wrote Frans de Waal, the brilliant Dutch animal behaviorist in a response to the Kohda et al. study.  "After all, the most compelling evidence for the latter would be unique behavior never seen without a mirror, whereas self-scraping, or glancing, is a fixed action pattern of many fish.  We may need an in-depth study of this particular pattern before we can ascertain what it means when performed in front of a mirror."

The study is pretty suggestive, though, and it's to be hoped that there'll be more research to see if it's supported, or if (as de Waal mentions) it might just be a complex fixed action pattern.  In any case, I need to wrap this up, because Lena is outside barking her head off.  Maybe she's cornered a highly vicious leaf or something, I dunno.

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

Humans have a morbid fascination with things that are big and powerful and can kill you.  Look at the number of movies made and books written about tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes, and volcanoes, not to mention hordes of predatory dinosaurs picking people off the streets.  But in the "horrifically dangerous" category, nothing can beat black holes -- collapsed stars with a gravitational field so strong not even light can escape.  If you fell into one of these things, you'd get "spaghettified" -- stretched by tidal forces into a long, thin streamer of goo -- and every trace of you would be destroyed so thoroughly that they'd not even be theoretically possible to retrieve.

Add to that the fact that because light can't escape them, you can't even see them.  Kind of makes a pack of velociraptors seem tame by comparison, doesn't it?

So no wonder there are astrophysicists who have devoted their lives to studying these beasts.  One of these is Shep Doeleman, whose determination to understand the strangest objects in the universe is the subject of Seth Fletcher's wonderful book Einstein's Shadow: A Black Hole, a Band of Astronomers, and the Quest to See the Unseeable.  It's not comfortable reading -- when you realize how completely insignificant we are on the scale of the universe, it's considerably humbling -- but it'll leave you in awe of how magnificent, how strange, and how beautiful the cosmos is, and amaze you that the human brain is capable of comprehending it.

[If you purchase the book from Amazon using the image/link below, part of the proceeds goes to supporting Skeptophilia!]





Friday, February 8, 2019

Order of operations

The Sapir-Whorf hypothesis is the idea, first codified in the 1930s by linguists Edward Sapir and Benjamin Whorf, that a speaker's language affects his/her cognition and brain wiring.  It's still a controversial idea now, eighty-some-odd years later.  Some linguists buy it, often citing examples such as the languages of a couple of Siberian nomad groups that have no words for left, right, in front of, and behind -- they relate everything to cardinal directions.  (To them, my coffee cup is currently east of me, not to my left.)  Investigations into these speakers have suggested that they have trouble even comprehending left and right -- when linguist and anthropologist David Harrison went there and tried to explain the concept, it elicited puzzled laughter.  "You people are arrogant," they told Harrison.  "You orient the entire world relative to the position of your own body?  So when you turn around the entire world changes shape?  Ridiculous."

Other linguists are not so sanguine.  There is evidence to suggest that any concept could potentially be expressed in any language by any speaker, and the oddness of left and right to the Siberians doesn't reflect their brain wiring any more than my inability to understand multivariate statistics reflects mine.  If I were sufficiently motivated and worked hard enough, I could learn whatever I wanted, and so can they; just because concepts are unfamiliar to a group doesn't mean their brains are wired differently.

The pro-Sapir-Whorf group got a bit of a boost this week from the publication in Scientific Reports of a study by Federica Amici, Alex Sánchez-Amaro, Carla Sebastián-Enesco, Trix Cacchione, Matthias Allritz, Juan Salazar-Bonet, and Federico Rossano, of the Max Planck Institute, the University of Florida, and the University of California-San Diego, called, "The Word Order of Languages Predicts Native Speakers' Working Memory."  The gist of the experiment is that the researchers looked at differences in working memory between native speakers of languages that tended to put modifiers after the verbs or nouns they modify (the languages they chose in this category were Thai, Ndonga, Khmer, and Italian) and ones where the modifiers usually come in front (Sidaama, Khoekhoe, Korean, and Japanese).

[Image licensed under the Creative Commons M. Adiputra, Globe of language, CC BY-SA 3.0]

They recruited between twenty and thirty volunteers for each language, and  gave them tests of their working memory, and found a clear correlation.  Speakers of languages where modifiers precede the noun or verb tended to have better working memory than those who speak languages where the modifiers follow the verb.  The guess they have is that for the first group, you have to keep track of the modifiers without knowing what noun or verb they'll apply to; for the second, you find out the noun or verb first, and simply modify it as you go along.

The authors write:
As predicted, LB [left-branching, languages where the modifiers come first] and RB [right-branching, languages where the modifiers come afterwards] speakers were significantly different in their ability to recall initial and final stimuli, showing a clear link between branching direction and working memory (WM). In WM tasks, LB participants were better than RB participants at recalling initial stimuli (and RB were better at recalling final stimuli)...  These results confirm our hypothesis and suggest that sensitivity to branching direction predicts the way in which humans remember and/or process sequences of stimuli, as real-time sentence comprehension relies more heavily on retaining initial information in LB languages but not in RB languages.
Interesting results, and certainly worthy of further investigation.  My hunch is that it won't turn out to be this simple; it's hard to imagine that something as simple as word order in sentences could have a profound effect on something as complex as memory.  But the correlation is there, and surely deserves an explanation.  Another one I'm curious about is whether speakers of tonal languages, such as Thai and Mandarin, are more likely to have perfect pitch -- something that (if true) would also bolster Sapir-Whorf.

In any case, the Amici et al. paper is pretty fascinating, and further elucidates the interplay between our behavior and our neural wiring.  I look forward to more research on this topic -- and more evidence, one way or the other, regarding how language shapes our brains.

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

Humans have a morbid fascination with things that are big and powerful and can kill you.  Look at the number of movies made and books written about tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes, and volcanoes, not to mention hordes of predatory dinosaurs picking people off the streets.  But in the "horrifically dangerous" category, nothing can beat black holes -- collapsed stars with a gravitational field so strong not even light can escape.  If you fell into one of these things, you'd get "spaghettified" -- stretched by tidal forces into a long, thin streamer of goo -- and every trace of you would be destroyed so thoroughly that they'd not even be theoretically possible to retrieve.

Add to that the fact that because light can't escape them, you can't even see them.  Kind of makes a pack of velociraptors seem tame by comparison, doesn't it?

So no wonder there are astrophysicists who have devoted their lives to studying these beasts.  One of these is Shep Doeleman, whose determination to understand the strangest objects in the universe is the subject of Seth Fletcher's wonderful book Einstein's Shadow: A Black Hole, a Band of Astronomers, and the Quest to See the Unseeable.  It's not comfortable reading -- when you realize how completely insignificant we are on the scale of the universe, it's considerably humbling -- but it'll leave you in awe of how magnificent, how strange, and how beautiful the cosmos is, and amaze you that the human brain is capable of comprehending it.

[If you purchase the book from Amazon using the image/link below, part of the proceeds goes to supporting Skeptophilia!]





Thursday, February 7, 2019

Who's driving the car?

The sense that there's a "self" inside us running the show is hard to escape.  We feel like we have volition, will, and in any given situation could have chosen differently than we did.  The unsettling thing is that none of that seems to be true.  And I'm not even referencing the ongoing debate about free will versus predestination, here; what I'm talking about is far less philosophical and far more grounded in real-world biology.

The degree to which our actions and thoughts are controlled by our brain chemistry becomes apparent if you've ever been drunk or high.  All psychoactive chemicals, be it legal ones (like caffeine and alcohol) or illegal ones (like THC and psilocybin) do what they do by altering how our brains react to a set of compounds collectively known as neurotransmitters.  Neurotransmitters are responsible for every sensation we perceive, every thought we have, every memory we store, every motion of our bodies.  So it's no wonder that if you change the way they behave -- whether by increasing or decreasing their activity, or causing them to act on a part of the brain they usually don't -- what you perceive and how you behave are going to be pretty different from usual.

It's why I'm hesitant to believe folks who say that what they've experienced on hallucinogens is some sort of "alternate reality."  That it could be profoundly life-altering I can easily accept.  That it elicited strong emotions, whether pleasant or unpleasant, also is unsurprising.  But I doubt seriously if the brain on mescaline is perceiving some sort of real world that the rest of us can't see, that somehow the brain evolved to wait until the locals discovered that you need to eat a bit of that cactus plant over there to perceive what's real.

Just my opinion, and admittedly based on no hard evidence whatsoever, if "hard evidence" is even something that would apply in this case.  I haven't even tried psychedelics of any kind, so if your take on things is that I'm unqualified to make this determination, I'm willing to accept that humbly.

But I'd still like to have more proof of the claim than "it's what I saw when I was high."

[Image is in the Public Domain]

We just got another blow to the idea that we're in control of our own mental state by a rather strange discovery at Emory University School of Medicine (published last week in Journal of Clinical Investigation).  Neurosurgeons were trying to find a way to calm down patients who were undergoing a waking craniotomy -- brain surgery performed under local anesthesia, while you're awake and conscious.  The necessity of doing this is because frequently during brain surgery, the surgeon needs to check the patient's responses -- ask them questions to monitor what effect the surgery itself is having.  As you might expect, the prospect of waking craniotomy scares the absolute hell out of most people, so surgeons have to figure out how to keep the patient calm during the (often lengthy) procedure.  But giving the patient sedative medication could alter the very responses the surgeon is trying to monitor.

What the Emory University team found is that if you electrically stimulate a part of the brain called the cingulate bundle, feelings of anxiety and fear evaporate completely.  It even works on people who are prone to anxiety, and who would be most at risk for a panic attack during surgery.  "Even well-prepared patients may panic during awake surgery, which can be dangerous," said lead author Kelly Bijanki, assistant professor of neurosurgery.  "This particular patient was especially prone to it because of moderate baseline anxiety.  And upon waking from global anesthesia, she did indeed begin to panic.  When we turned on her cingulum stimulation, she immediately reported feeling happy and relaxed, told jokes about her family, and was able to tolerate the awake procedure successfully."

Now, don't get me wrong; I think this is an amazingly cool discovery, and could help thousands of patients who have to undergo brain surgery to avoid being traumatized.  Having generalized anxiety disorder myself, I wouldn't mind having a switch I could flip on the cingulate bundle when I start to go into meltdown mode.  "[A]lthough substantial further study is necessary in this area," Bijanki said, "the cingulum bundle could become a new target for chronic deep brain stimulation therapies for anxiety, mood, and pain disorders."

But there's a part of this that's a little unsettling. Our emotions are so central to our sense of self that it's kind of spooky that you can completely change them by stimulating one tiny circuit in the brain.  This sense of a solid, inviolable me running things turns out to be, for all intents and purposes, an illusion.

So it leaves me with the troubling question of who's driving the car.  More and more it's seeming as if the driver is a fluid, changing mix of chemicals and electrical impulses -- so there's no guarantee that we'll have the same driver tomorrow, or even five minutes from now.

All of which kind of makes me want to forget about all of this science stuff and go play with my dog until the world stops seeming so big, weird, and scary.

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

Humans have a morbid fascination with things that are big and powerful and can kill you.  Look at the number of movies made and books written about tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes, and volcanoes, not to mention hordes of predatory dinosaurs picking people off the streets.  But in the "horrifically dangerous" category, nothing can beat black holes -- collapsed stars with a gravitational field so strong not even light can escape.  If you fell into one of these things, you'd get "spaghettified" -- stretched by tidal forces into a long, thin streamer of goo -- and every trace of you would be destroyed so thoroughly that they'd not even be theoretically possible to retrieve.

Add to that the fact that because light can't escape them, you can't even see them.  Kind of makes a pack of velociraptors seem tame by comparison, doesn't it?

So no wonder there are astrophysicists who have devoted their lives to studying these beasts.  One of these is Shep Doeleman, whose determination to understand the strangest objects in the universe is the subject of Seth Fletcher's wonderful book Einstein's Shadow: A Black Hole, a Band of Astronomers, and the Quest to See the Unseeable.  It's not comfortable reading -- when you realize how completely insignificant we are on the scale of the universe, it's considerably humbling -- but it'll leave you in awe of how magnificent, how strange, and how beautiful the cosmos is, and amaze you that the human brain is capable of comprehending it.

[If you purchase the book from Amazon using the image/link below, part of the proceeds goes to supporting Skeptophilia!]





Wednesday, February 6, 2019

You can't win, you can't break even

It's bad enough when laypeople misuse scientific terms and are too damn lazy even to read the Wikipedia pages on scientific topics.  What's absolutely maddening is when a science publication does the same thing.

I'm referring to New Scientist, which is no fly-by-night pay-to-play predatory journal, and should surely know better.  It's been around since 1956 and bills itself as the home of cutting-edge research, never shying away from a controversial topic -- but that's no reason to give unwarranted legitimacy to nonsense.

Of course, this isn't the first time they've pulled this sort of crap.  A sensationalized article about the now-discredited "EM Drive" (a thruster that requires no propellant) drew condemnation from a number of sources, leading then-editor Jeremy Webb to state in defense, "this is an ideas magazine—that means writing about hypotheses as well as theories."

That may well be, but "writing about hypotheses" is not the same thing as misrepresenting actual science.  Which is what an article from last week by physicist Paul Davies, called "Life's Secret Ingredient: A Radical Theory About What Makes Things Alive" did, resulting in a lot of bad language and repeated face palms from yours truly.

Okay, let's look at the reasonable stuff first.  It is honestly not simple to determine what we mean by "a living thing;" the various characteristics of life all have exceptions that are clearly considered living by most people (for example, the characteristic of "able to reproduce" is not found in hybrids like mules, and viruses are exceptions to just about the entire list).  The article is basically a long summary of Davies's new book The Demon in the Machine, wherein he proposes that what makes something alive is not the "one or more cells, uses energy, responds to its environment," etc. that you learned in high school biology, but the presence of complex information.

In an interview with The Guardian, Davies explains more fully:
The basic hypothesis is this.  We have fundamental laws of information that bring life into being from an incoherent mish-mash of chemicals.  The remarkable properties we associate with life are not going to come about by accident...  When you look at a living system, the way information is managed is very far from random.  It will show patterns that could lead us to a definition of life.  We talk about informational hallmarks and these might be used to identify life wherever we look for it in the universe.
So far so good.  An interesting idea -- biological complexity as information.  But then Davies says something that made me shout, "You're a physicist!  You should know better than that!"
The fact is, on our current understanding, life is an enigma.  Most strikingly, its organised, self-sustaining complexity seems to fly in the face of the most sacred law of physics, the second law of thermodynamics, which describes a universal tendency towards decay and disorder.
No.  No no no no no.

Life doesn't in any sense "fly in the face" of the Second Law.  The Second Law of Thermodynamics describes what happens in a closed system -- a system in which neither energy nor matter crosses the boundaries.  Your organized, self-sustaining complexity would break down pretty damn fast if I turned you into a closed system.  The fact is, what the Second Law says is that you can decrease entropy locally and temporarily if you meet two conditions: (1) there is a constant input of energy, and (2) the entropy decrease in the system is exceeded by the entropy increase somewhere else.  For example, you have grown from a simple single cell into a highly complex multicellular organism by having a continuous input of energy from your food, but your extraction of that energy has disordered those food molecules completely -- far more than any increase in order in your body.

As my long-ago thermodynamics professor put it: "The First Law of Thermodynamics says you can't win.  The Second Law says you can't break even, either."

I may seem to be overreacting, here, but this is one of the most common things I see on sites devoted to pseudoscientific "proof" that evolution is incorrect.  The creation of ordered living things from a disorderly primordial soup, they say, is prohibited by the Second Law, so requires an Intelligent Designer.  It's the same misunderstanding; complex macromolecules, and later cells, could be formed abiotically because there's a continuous energy source (the Sun).  Turn that off, and things grind to a halt fast.


So my frustration here is that someone who is a trained scientist and an internationally-known writer should not be misrepresenting scientific law.  Especially this one; the First and Second Laws of Thermodynamics are some of the most extensively tested models in all of science, and there has never been a single exception found to either one.  This is why patent applications for perpetual motion machines are thrown away by the United States Patent Office without review.

The Laws of Thermodynamics are strictly enforced in all jurisdictions.

Anyhow, that's today's annoyed rant.  I probably should lighten up, or at least direct my ire toward other more deserving targets.  Heaven knows there are enough of them in our own government.  But really, if you can't count on the scientists to represent things correctly, who can you count on?

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

Humans have a morbid fascination with things that are big and powerful and can kill you.  Look at the number of movies made and books written about tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes, and volcanoes, not to mention hordes of predatory dinosaurs picking people off the streets.  But in the "horrifically dangerous" category, nothing can beat black holes -- collapsed stars with a gravitational field so strong not even light can escape.  If you fell into one of these things, you'd get "spaghettified" -- stretched by tidal forces into a long, thin streamer of goo -- and every trace of you would be destroyed so thoroughly that they'd not even be theoretically possible to retrieve.

Add to that the fact that because light can't escape them, you can't even see them.  Kind of makes a pack of velociraptors seem tame by comparison, doesn't it?

So no wonder there are astrophysicists who have devoted their lives to studying these beasts.  One of these is Shep Doeleman, whose determination to understand the strangest objects in the universe is the subject of Seth Fletcher's wonderful book Einstein's Shadow: A Black Hole, a Band of Astronomers, and the Quest to See the Unseeable.  It's not comfortable reading -- when you realize how completely insignificant we are on the scale of the universe, it's considerably humbling -- but it'll leave you in awe of how magnificent, how strange, and how beautiful the cosmos is, and amaze you that the human brain is capable of comprehending it.

[If you purchase the book from Amazon using the image/link below, part of the proceeds goes to supporting Skeptophilia!]





Tuesday, February 5, 2019

Dyatlov revisited

Seven years ago, I wrote a post here at Skeptophilia about one of the most enduring mysteries of the twentieth century -- the deaths of nine hikers in the Ural Mountains in 1959, at a spot that later was named after the leader of the nine -- Igor Dyatlov.

The "Dyatlov Pass Incident" has all the hallmarks of an episode of The X Files.  The nine hikers set out in late January, almost exactly sixty years ago, with no inkling of what would happen.  When the group still hadn't showed up by the end of February, a good two weeks after their projected return date, a rescue team was sent out.

What they found is nothing short of extraordinary.  The members of the hiking group showed a variety of horrifying injuries, and a few had what looked like radiation burns.  More than one had removed most of their clothing -- and then frozen to death.  The tent they'd slept in was slit open, as if they were so desperate to get out they didn't even have time to unzip the flap.  (There are more details on my original post, if you're curious.)


The upshot of it all is that it's never been definitively established what exactly happened.  The more prosaic explanations, for example that the hikers stumbled onto a Cold War Russian weapons test, have been categorically denied by the Russian government.  (At which point the conspiracy theorists waggle their eyebrows significantly and say, "Of course they denied it.")  The more out-there explanations include an attack from the Ural version of the Abominable Snowman and/or aliens.

The reason this all comes up is not just because just last week we passed the sixtieth anniversary of the Dyatlov team's departure, but because of a surprise announcement by the Russian government that they're reopening an investigation into the incident.  Aleksandr Kurennoy, the official spokesperson of the Prosecutor General's Office of the Russian Federation, released a statement on the Efir Internet channel regarding the resumption of the case.  "Our goal is to establish which of the 75 existing theories could be confirmed by reliable evidence," Kurennoy said.  "Between March 10-20, employees of the Sverdlovsk Region Prosecutor's Office will fly to the site of the incident together with geodesy experts and employees of the Emergencies Ministry.  The procedural deadlines have expired for all the other competent bodies, but this is not the case with prosecution agencies.  Apart from that, a new law has come into force that authorizes the prosecution to commission special expert evaluations as part of a probe."

I'm a little surprised about this in a couple of respects.  For one thing, the Russian government is not exactly well known for transparency, and it's odd that they want an investigation into a mystery where one of the possible solutions is shady dealings by the Russian government itself.  It's entirely possible, of course, that they'll release a report that makes them look good regardless what they find, although it does bring up the question of why they'd stir things up in the first place.  Seems like letting sleeping dogs lie would be the more prudent course.

Second, though, is what on Earth they could hope to find now, sixty years after the incident occurred.  There wasn't that much evidence to start with; in fact, the bodies of four of the nine were only recovered during the spring thaw when May came.  Heading out into a snow-covered wilderness, six decades after the fact, is unlikely to uncover anything new one way or the other.

So the whole thing is more than a little puzzling.  As much as I'd like to know what happened at Dyatlov Pass in the winter of 1959, my hunch is that we probably will never know enough to make a certain determination.  What's clear, though, is that this has renewed interest in the incident, especially amongst the conspiracy theorists, who are hoping like hell to get more fuel for their various fires.

Which they'll probably claim no matter what the Russians find.

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

Humans have a morbid fascination with things that are big and powerful and can kill you.  Look at the number of movies made and books written about tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes, and volcanoes, not to mention hordes of predatory dinosaurs picking people off the streets.  But in the "horrifically dangerous" category, nothing can beat black holes -- collapsed stars with a gravitational field so strong not even light can escape.  If you fell into one of these things, you'd get "spaghettified" -- stretched by tidal forces into a long, thin streamer of goo -- and every trace of you would be destroyed so thoroughly that they'd not even be theoretically possible to retrieve.

Add to that the fact that because light can't escape them, you can't even see them.  Kind of makes a pack of velociraptors seem tame by comparison, doesn't it?

So no wonder there are astrophysicists who have devoted their lives to studying these beasts.  One of these is Shep Doeleman, whose determination to understand the strangest objects in the universe is the subject of Seth Fletcher's wonderful book Einstein's Shadow: A Black Hole, a Band of Astronomers, and the Quest to See the Unseeable.  It's not comfortable reading -- when you realize how completely insignificant we are on the scale of the universe, it's considerably humbling -- but it'll leave you in awe of how magnificent, how strange, and how beautiful the cosmos is, and amaze you that the human brain is capable of comprehending it.

[If you purchase the book from Amazon using the image/link below, part of the proceeds goes to supporting Skeptophilia!]





Monday, February 4, 2019

Ruby slippers and tachyon energy

One of the most frustrating types of woo-woo belief is the kind that is out of the reach of any sort of experimental testing.  Fortunately, it's a rare thing; most odd, unsupported claims are at least theoretically accessible to controlled scientific investigation.  Psychics, mediums, dowsing, aura manipulation, homeopathy, astrology, cryptozoology... all of those have been the subjects of scrutiny by actual scientists using the lens of experimentation (and all, by the way, have failed thus far to generate any results that would be convincing to a skeptic).

But a claim that is inherently untestable isn't common, and that's including if you throw in religious belief.  I mean, even the creation and "great flood" stories from Christian myth can be analyzed on the basis of evidence.  So it takes a special talent at woo-woo thinking to devise something that you couldn't test experimentally even if you wanted to.

I ran into a good example of this yesterday on a website sent by one of my loyal readers, a page on the website School of Awakening entitled, "Tachyon."  At first, it would seem that they're just using the word "tachyon" to mean the same old tired "life force energy vibrational frequencies" you see on so many woo-woo websites:
Tachyon, a Greek word meaning ‘swift’, was coined by physicist in the 1960’s to describe a faster than light particle which according to physics is “beyond velocity, omni-present, carries 100% potential of all form, beyond time, eternal, and formless.”  Tachyon is considered by quantum physics to be the ‘messenger’ of the Zero Point Field, which is what people commonly think of as ‘source.’  Both the Zero Point Field and Tachyon have a ‘negative entropy’ effect, which translates as; bringing order out of chaos.  Entropy is the process of decay and dying.  Negative entropy is life in a state of rejuvenation and renewal.
Interesting that they start out, as so many woo-woos do, by borrowing terms from theoretical physics.   The word tachyon was coined in 1967 by physicist Gerald Feinberg to describe a hypothetical particle that travels always faster than light and therefore breaks the laws of causality (i.e., if it existed, you could use it to send signals into your own past).  Most scientists consider the tachyon only an interesting fiction -- no evidence for its existence has ever been found, and there are a great many compelling arguments against it.

But that doesn't stop the School of Awakening people:
Tachyon, being a non-frequency type of healing method, cannot push our bodies out of balance.  ["Tachyonization" inventor] David Wagner tells us that our bodies absorb this rejuvenating source energy, turn it into the physical frequency we need, and only take in as much as is needed in that moment.  It is the body’s own intelligence which determines the amount of Tachyon we absorb.
So all of this sounds awfully nice.  An anti-entropy, age-reversing medication you can't take too much of because your body's intelligence tells you exactly how much to absorb.

Then they tell you about some "tachyonized" products they're selling that can bring "tachyons" into the water and food you consume, or even directly into your body:
The Tachyonized™ products which David Wagner manufactures at his factory go through his machines in a process which takes 14 days to complete.  At the end of this time, they have become permanent Tachyon antennae and can be used on, in or around the body and the environment to maximize regeneration and wellness.  See Tachyon Products and see Tachyon Vortex Pendants for information on the tachyon pendants available to people who have attended tachyon training workshops.
This, then, causes changes in an energetic system that everything in the universe can detect and interact with... except for humans (presumably because we're just kind of dumb):
All energy systems, except humans, are connected vertically with the Source and HIS/HER inexhaustible flow of universal life force energy, maintaining what we call the energetic continuum...  This structure we find with all life forms as a basic energetic matrix, which keeps our entire universe interconnected.
And we're given a list of positive results that will occur from all of this hocus-pocus:
  • Dissolve pain
  • Reduce stress
  • Harmonizing and re-opening of the chakras
  • Balancing harmful electromagnetic waves from computer and mobile phone use
  • Bring wellness and youthing to the body
  • Optimise sports performance
  • Charge water with life enhancing energy
  • Raise consciousness
Now, so far, how is this different from any other woo-woo nonsense out there? Wouldn't this still fall into the realm of the testable?  The answer is no, and here's the really clever bit that sets them apart from your run-of-the-mill purveyor of pseudoscience:
A human system naturally goes through cycles of order and chaos on its path of evolution.  When it is unable to adapt to more stress in its life the crisis comes to a peak.  This is called a Bifurcation point. 
At this point the body will either go into chaos (begin manifesting an illness which may have been latent for years), or it will move to better health.  Using Tachyon will speed the energetic blockage to a bifurcation point and transform the problem, which may bring insights or understanding of the underlying cause.
See what they did, there?  You're supposed to buy all of the "tachyonized" crystals and disks and everything, because they (1) emit a particle that is inherently impossible to detect, which interacts with (2) an energy system in your body that is inherently impossible to detect, and that will result in (3) any physical conditions you have either getting better or worse depending on which path you needed to take at the "Bifurcation Point."

Oh, but by all means, you should buy the crystals and disks and all.  They have case studies.  They have testimonials.  All you have to do, apparently, is believe, and you can return to Kansas any time you want.


What bugs me here is that there are people with legitimate medical conditions who are being suckered by hucksters like this, and who aren't going to get the treatments they need because they would rather waste their money being "tachyonized."  And in some sense, the people who are convinced by these snake oil salesmen are gullible enough that they have no one to blame but themselves if they get fooled.

But part of me still gets angry.  Getting rich off of people who don't understand how science works, who are swayed by big words and subtle pretzel logic, just isn't nice.  I know that there is no way to stop them; they've been too clever at crafting their argument so that it is experimentally irrefutable.   Staying with The Wizard of Oz theme, some days it'd just be nice if there was a skeptic's version to the Flying Monkeys, that could just... take care of things for me.

But honestly, I suppose that isn't nice, either.

The only answer, as always, is in getting people to understand how science works.  So toward that end, I'd better wrap this up and go off to have my un-tachyonized coffee and take my slower-than-the-speed-of-light car to school, where I can hopefully do my part in immunizing my students against falling for this sort of unscientific bullshit.

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

Humans have a morbid fascination with things that are big and powerful and can kill you.  Look at the number of movies made and books written about tornadoes, hurricanes, earthquakes, and volcanoes, not to mention hordes of predatory dinosaurs picking people off the streets.  But in the "horrifically dangerous" category, nothing can beat black holes -- collapsed stars with a gravitational field so strong not even light can escape.  If you fell into one of these things, you'd get "spaghettified" -- stretched by tidal forces into a long, thin streamer of goo -- and every trace of you would be destroyed so thoroughly that they'd not even be theoretically possible to retrieve.

Add to that the fact that because light can't escape them, you can't even see them.  Kind of makes a pack of velociraptors seem tame by comparison, doesn't it?

So no wonder there are astrophysicists who have devoted their lives to studying these beasts.  One of these is Shep Doeleman, whose determination to understand the strangest objects in the universe is the subject of Seth Fletcher's wonderful book Einstein's Shadow: A Black Hole, a Band of Astronomers, and the Quest to See the Unseeable.  It's not comfortable reading -- when you realize how completely insignificant we are on the scale of the universe, it's considerably humbling -- but it'll leave you in awe of how magnificent, how strange, and how beautiful the cosmos is, and amaze you that the human brain is capable of comprehending it.

[If you purchase the book from Amazon using the image/link below, part of the proceeds goes to supporting Skeptophilia!]