An anonymous contributor, signing himself “An Opinionated Englishman”, took umbrage at some passing mention of Lipton tea that I made a while back, and sent me a couple of boxes of genuine English tea from some place called Whittard of Chelsea.
Whoa. There really is a huge difference.
This is terrible. I can never go back to drinking the domestic stuff now, and am going to have to go looking for a local source of imported teas. Darned snooty Englishmen, waking me up to reality. How dare they?
Fox News really needs to fire this idiot. Look at this clip where Brian Kilmeade is, for some unknown reason, trying to dismiss a study that found that married people were at a lower risk for Alzheimer’s disease. I have no knowledge of the study, but his reasons for dismissing its applicability to Americans are bizarre.
BRIAN KILMEADE: We keep marrying other species and other ethnics–
GRETCHEN CARLSON: Are you sure they are not suffering from some of the causes of dementia right now?
BRIAN KILMEADE: The problem is the Swedes have pure genes. They marry other Swedes, that’s the rule. Finns marry other Finns; they have a pure society. In America we marry everybody. We will marry Italians and Irish.
WTF? Italians and Irish are not part of “we”? They’re a different species? Intermarriage between ethnicities is a problem?
This is something like 19th century racism. By the way, Kilmeade is a vocal conservative Christian.
Oh, great. He’s been appointed by Obama.
He’ll do a fine job…he’s a competent administrator. I think we can trust him to manage the institution smoothly.
We can also trust him to drape Jesus over every major announcement, use the office as a platform for promoting religiosity, and otherwise taint the whole business with embarrassingly inane nonsense…just as he did with the human genome press conference. Isn’t it about time our government promoted secular values that work over these antique and ineffective superstitions that just make their proponents look goofy?
Look what came in the mail today:
It’s an iPod Touch from Eric Hovind! It’s impossible to read in this photo, but it has a nice engraving on the back: the Creation Minute logo, and this message.
To PZ Myers
In hopes that your quest for TRUTH will end with God.
The CSE Team
Isn’t that nice? I’d been hoping they’d add some little distinguishing touch like that to it — it makes for a splendid victory trophy.
The Canadian prime minister was caught on video pocketing a cracker, and of course the media are in a tizzy over this silly and inconsequential nonsense.
I have a suggestion. Send it to me, Mr Harper. I’m one of the few experts in this world at professional cracker disposal.
Chris Mooney and Sheril Kirshenbaum were right about one thing.
They sent me a copy of their new book, Unscientific America: How Scientific Illiteracy Threatens Our Future(amzn/b&n/abe/pwll), with a strange request: “We hope that like Dr. Coyne, you will suspend judgment until reading the book, at which point we’ll be interested to hear what you think.” I was a bit offended; of course I was going to read it with an open mind. Why would they think it necessary to ask me to do so?
That was before I got to chapters 8 and 9, however, which open with very direct and personal attacks on me and on Pharyngula, atheists in general, and anyone who fails to offer religion its proper modicum of respect. “Oh, that’s why they warned me,” I realized, “it’s like asking the victim of a hatchet job to hold still for a moment so they can get in a good whack.” They definitely did need to request my forbearance, so I wouldn’t just toss their hypocritical and ignorant paean to mealy-mouthedness in the trash right away, which was one perceptive moment on their part. And yes, I freely admit that my opinion of the book is colored by the palpable contempt they hold for me.
But I get ahead of myself. As I said, the discombobulating assault didn’t begin until chapter 8, but the problems I had with the book started much earlier.
In chapter one.
This chapter is completely baffling. They chose to illustrate the serious problem of the disconnect between a science-illiterate public and the science establishment with a strange example: the redesignation of Pluto as a non-planet. This event was accompanied by a public outcry, by people who had some peculiar emotional attachment to the idea that Pluto was the ninth planet, an attachment that was fed by a willing media that found this level of trivia to be about as complex an issue as they could handle. We know that certain topics rouse the public, and often it’s unpredictable what will catch the fancy of the news. But this? This is the opening story on which they build their argument that “consequences of the science-society divide may prove far more damaging”? And what do they propose we should do to resolve the issue?
This is where I am first taken aback. They come down on the side of Pluto being redesignated as a planet! Why, is not clear — they clearly list the scientific reasons why astronomers thought it didn’t merit the title of “planet” — but they talk over and over about “rifts” and “conflicts” and the “danger of being seen as an Adlai Stevenson egghead”. Apparently, the sin of the scientists was a failure to bow before popular opinion, and insufficient attention to the PR consequences of a scientific decision.
Well, Chris and Sheril, what should the astronomers have done? Should they have had a binding referendum delivered to the public to get their say? Are there other scientific matters that should be decided by popular vote? (Let’s put the truth of evolutionary biology up for decision in a poll!) Should scientists take the time to explain with a little wit and humor and sound scientific reasoning why they made that decision? If so, they missed the boat: they should read Neil deGrasse Tyson’s The Pluto Files(amzn/b&n/abe/pwll) for exactly that. How about some discussion about exactly why they think that failed?
This chapter was symptomatic of the deficiencies of the whole book. We’re told over and over about how scientists suck at the job of science communication (which is largely true), and that we need more media- and politically-savvy scientists (definitely true), but then…what? Apparently the job of these science diplomats of the future is to bow to the will of the people, and tell the nerds back in the lab what they should be doing. And of course, one of the keys to being a successful media scientist is to show the proper deference and respect to cultural conventions.
Carl Sagan is their hero, and he’s one of mine, too. He’s the model of the scientist who is also both a skilled communicator and an activist, and I would agree entirely that we need more like him. However, they fail to notice the peculiar disjunction in their story: while reciting the wonderful efforts of Sagan and praising his skills and efforts, they’re also telling the story of the dismal state of science education at the same time. Strange…the object of their praise was influencing many of us growing up at that time, those of us who were already enthusiastic about science, but the culture was not improving, and was even getting worse. Is it possible that perhaps the problem does not lie entirely in the minimal PR skills of scientists, but in greater institutional forces at work in our society? The religious right was not glued to their TV sets every night that Cosmos was on, you know. Sagan was preaching to the choir, and there’s nothing wrong with that — it can be a powerful tool for motivating and informing a wider cadre of science communicators.
The book entirely neglects the anti-scientific forces. Our salvation apparently lies entirely in the hands of scientists who quietly promote the positive values of the scientific outlook, while turning their eyes away from deep-rooted values and institutions that directly threaten science. To challenge those would be to offend people! And if we offend anyone, we lose! It’s an exceptionally defeatist attitude in which they plainly recognize a serious problem in American society — it’s the premise of the whole book! — but at the same time, demands that we avoid addressing the structural roots of those problems.
It’s even in the weirdly oblivious conclusion to the whole book.
Science is not merely culture’s “essential component”, and we don’t just have to mend the rift between science and culture: We have to create a perfect union. Science itself must become the common culture.
I can agree wholeheartedly with that sentiment…but how, exactly, are we to accomplish it without challenging anti-scientific attitudes? Like the Pluto incident, what Mooney and Kirshenbaum seem to want is that science conform itself to that common culture, that somehow science will accommodate itself to the popular will, and everyone will be happy. They lack the realization that what they’re actually proposing is a rather radical change in cultural values, and that that will not come without some pain and conflict.
Another blind spot is present throughout the book, but particularly in the chapters where they excoriate the “New Atheists”. They regard Dawkins with considerable distaste (but at least they spare him the outright contempt they give to me!), and at the same time they bemoan the lack of great science communicators since we lost Sagan. Wait, what? Are they aware at all that Dawkins is an excellent and popular writer, that he has sold millions of books and has made a number of documentaries? That he’s taken good advantage of the web? I’d be curious to know who has sold more books, Dawkins or Sagan, but if I had to bet on one it would be Dawkins. He has critics and even enemies, including Mooney and Kirshenbaum, but that’s irrelevant — they know that Sagan was also strenuously vilified by critics on the Right and among the religious, as well, yet somehow that opposition is regarded as the defining element of Dawkins’ popularity, yet is overlooked in the case of Sagan. Scientists will always be delivering hard truths; if our hypothetical desired media-savvy science communicator cannot make anyone uncomfortable, then he or she is a failure at science.
And then there’s this exasperating nonsense, in which Mooney and Kirshenbaum are discussing how to get science into the popular media.
Dawkins and some other scientists fail to grasp that in Hollywood, the story is paramount—that narrative, drama, and character development will trump mere factual accuracy every time, and by a very long shot. [emphasis mine]
What Mooney and Kirshenbaum fail to grasp is that to a scientist, factual accuracy must be paramount; it is not a matter on which we can compromise. Further, what they fail to recognize, and what they excuse for Hollywood, as that accuracy does not have to compromise narrative, drama, and character! They berate Dawkins as if he has no awareness of the basics of what makes a good story, which makes me wonder if they’ve read any of his books at all — do they think he simply drily recites a body of abstract thoughts at the reader? Perhaps they should take a look at The Ancestor’s Tale(amzn/b&n/abe/pwll) to discover that he actually has addressed this imaginary deficit.
The bottom line is that Mooney and Kirshenbaum’s book recites the obvious at us, that there is a fundamental disconnect between science and the popular imagination in our country, but offers no new solutions, and in fact would like to narrow our options to a blithe and accommodating compromise of science with rampant ignorance. Their own bigotry blinds them to a range of approaches offered by the “New Atheists”…a group that is not so closed to the wide range of necessarily differing tactics that such a deep problem requires as Mooney and Kirshenbaum are. It’s not a badly written book, but it’s something worse: it’s utterly useless.
I’m going to be speaking at the Secular Student Alliance conference on 8 August, and before that, you may recall, I announced that we were going on a little field trip to Ken Ham’s bunco joint in Kentucky, on Friday, 7 August. We’re trying to organize a bit, so SSA sent me the notice below. Preregister and get a big discount on the entry fee, and SSA is also looking for more people to help with coordinating travel.
Register to get the $10 entry fee at https://secularstudents.wufoo.com/forms/creation-museum-with-pz-myers-registration/. You have to pay in advance but you get the $10 entrance rate, rather than the $22 that you’d have to pay at the door. People have to register by 7/23 to get this rate.
We’re arranging carpools through www.rideshare.us using lookup code PZ2Creation. Anyone coming to the Museum and/or heading up to Columbus afterwards for the conference is strongly encouraged to post their rides if they’d be willing to take a student along with them. Students can also post ads for rides if they need to get from one place to the other.
We also have some (free!) housing available in Columbus for Thurs night for any students from out of town who need a place to crash before heading down to the museum. Interested parties should contact Jon the Intern In Charge of Housing at jonathan.sussman@secularstudents.org.
Sign up now!
Remember the Viet Nam war? I know, we’ve been suffering with the most recent military cock-up, but it’s still worth looking back at what evil old Tricky Dick was up to. A new batch of tape transcripts from White House discussions about the war have been released, and wouldn’t you know it — Nixon was engineering the defeat, putting pressure on the South Vietnamese government to accept a settlement that would lead to failure, but would at least postpone defeat until after the American elections.
Did I really need to be reminded that practically my entire lifelong exposure to American politics has been a history of contemptible screw-ups?
Forgive me, readers, but Madeline Bunting has raised up her tiny, fragile pin-head again, and I must address her non-arguments once more. Well, not her non-arguments, actually, but the same tedious non-arguments the fans of superstition constantly trundle out. She was at some strange conference where only people who love religion spoke and came away with affirmations of the usual tripe. It’s as if the “New Atheists” have provoked a counter-attack by critics armored in pudding and armed with damp sponges.
…the Archbishop of Canterbury was brisk, and he warned, “beware of the power of nonsense”. Science’s triumphalist claim as a competitor to failed religion was dangerous. In contrast, he offered an accommodation in which science and religion were “different ways of knowing” and “what you come to know depends on the questions you start with”. Different questions lead to “different practices of learning” – for example different academic disciplines. Rather than competitors, science and religion were both needed to pursue different questions.
We’re quite aware of the power of nonsense — and I agree that it certainly has a powerful draw on some people, from those who frolic with fairies to the Archbishop of Canterbury. That’s the frightening element of this whole argument, that people get sucked into spiritual fol-de-rol and think they’re suddenly deep and perceptive thinkers, and that waving a little fluff at the atheists will make them run away.
We often get this vague claim that religion is a different methodology and a different way of knowing things, and that judging religion as a science is a category error. Very well: different way of knowing what? What are these different questions that they are asking, how do they propose answering them, and why should we think these questions are even worth asking, and that their answers are valid? They never seem to get around to the specifics.
I mean, religion might well be the only avenue for addressing the question of how many bicycles are being peddled by angels right now, but that’s because it’s an irrelevant question that doesn’t affect our lives or the universe in any way, doesn’t have any way of being answered, and is built around imaginary referents, “angels”, for which we don’t even have evidence of their existence. But if religion is a way of knowing, how do they know what the answer is? What is their methodology? How do they verify their answers? Why is it that every religion, and even every individual within a religion, comes up with different answers?
That’s an example of a trivial question, but the same problems apply to the big questions central to their beliefs. How do we even know that we need redemption from sin? Is sin even a valid concept? They can’t answer these questions in an independently verifiable way.
Even when they try to get specific, they are hopelessly vague.
The second question from the audience – from the philosopher Mary Midgley – was what comes next? What both science and religion needed, argued Conway Morris was a more fruitful conversation. He raised the possibility that religion might be needed to help develop understanding into questions which have baffled scientists such as the nature of consciousness. The future of science is a series of imponderables, he concluded, and it may require a set of scientific skills “of which we have no inkling at the moment.”
I think the fruitful conversation we need between science and religion is more of a loud roar from the science side to silence the lies of the faithful. This argument that we need more input from religion comes almost entirely from those already committed to the superstition — personally, I think we could use entirely less babbling gobbledygook from the apologists.
But Conway Morris’s suggestion is pointless. How will religion help us understand the nature of consciousness? Having someone assert that it is the product of ghosts, spirits, or other such invisible manifestations from some non-place outside our universe is, it has turned out, a useless, unproductive, and old, dead hypothesis. Just to suggest that we may need new ways of thinking to approach a complex problem does not imply in any way that a very old way of thinking has some utility.
People like Conway Morris keep claiming that science and religion are not only compatible, but that both are necessary. I don’t buy it. I have two simple questions for those who claim that the two are complementary.
What specific fundamental principles of your religion do you actually use in your science? I don’t mean just general ethical principles, because atheists also have those, but tell me something specific about how you apply your religion to science?
Do you apply scientific principles to your religion, and do you do so consistently? Do you, for instance, test religious claims with experiment?
When you put it that specifically, most of the religious scientists I know would unashamedly and rightly say that no, they practice science in the lab or field without expectation of an intervention by Jesus to change the results, and that no, turning the skeptical tools of science against their faith would be inappropriate, or that god is not subject to our scrutiny. This is not compatibility. This is tergiversation. The only way they can claim compatibility is by pointing out that some individuals practice both religion and science, like Simon Conway Morris, but that says nothing, since people are damned good at encompassing contradictions.
For a terrifying look at what we get with religion, turn to this a review of Karen Armstrong’s What Religion Really Means. What a promising title! We godless atheists are always being told that we don’t really understand the depth of religion, so a book that promises to clearly state what it is sounds like a welcome addition to the debate. Until, that is, you read what she says it means.
She draws on 2,000 years of Christian theology and mysticism to demonstrate rich alternative ideas of the divine. Back in the 4th century AD, long before Wittgenstein and Derrida, Bishop Basil of Caesarea understood all about the limits of language, and stated them rather more clearly, too. “Thought cannot travel outside was, nor imagination beyond beginning.” God is, by definition, infinitely beyond human language. Earlier still, the Christian scholar Origen (185-254) discussed the “incongruities and impossibilities” in scripture. The fact that Dawkins et al think that pointing out the Bible’s imperfections undermine Jewish or Christian belief only demonstrates their ignorance of the traditions they presume to undermine. Of course it’s not meant to be understood literally, the early Christians seem to sigh across the centuries.
Armstrong further shows how even the words “I believe” have changed, and become scientised, to mean “I assert these propositions to be empirically correct.” Yet the original Greek pisteuo means something much more like “I give my heart and my loyalty.” In the gospels, she says, quoting the great German theologian Rudolf Bultmann, Jesus himself sees God not as “an object of thought or speculation, but as an existential demand”.
What a sodden pile of words rendered meaningless by the attempt to bloat their meaning.
Yes, we know that many rarefied theologians believe in a lot of airy nonsense, but let’s not pretend that the vast majority of Christians would not reject those claims out of hand — they are far more literal. Or, rather, they claim to be more literal, but actually hold a body of faith that is just as subjective, just as highly evolved and refined, as the set of beliefs held by the most opaque and obfuscatory theologian. There really isn’t much difference in the methodology of Rudolf Bultmann or Ken Ham — both are piling up the subjective bullshit as fast as they can shovel it, they are just using different conventions and different language tailored to their different audiences. It’s simply different…framing.
As an example of Bunting’s different way of knowing and different kinds of questions and different practices of learning, though, what do I learn from that slippery gemisch of pious protestations? One thing and one thing only: the power of nonsense.
I think we’ve all mastered that lesson by now. It’s time for the theologians to grow up and move on to questions with some heft and meaning, that are actually applicable to our lives and our culture.
And it features Lucy!
Note the book she’s reading at the beginning.
