Five Books site reorganizes, becomes more user-friendly

June 29, 2013 • 1:36 pm

If you’re a bibliophile, you’ll already know about the Five Books site of The Browser, where you can read really nice interviews with luminaries and learn which five books they most recommend for popular reading in their field.

The site has just been reorganized, so you can scan all the interviews by general topic (“World literature,” “poetry,” “natural history,” and so on), by the person being interviewed, or by the recommended books themselves.  It’s even better than a bookstore, because you get recommendations, a precis of each book, and a look inside the heads of a diverse collection of scholars and enthusiasts.

In the latest contribution, science writer Seth Mnookin gives an interview in which he recommends his five “best books” about vaccines.  It’s a fascinating read, and I’m particularly pleased that he recommended a long-forgotten book that was one of my childhood favorites: Paul de Kruif’s Microbe Hunters, a history of microbiology told through the biographies of its colorful founders.

de Kruif, (1890-1971), a Dutch microbiologist with a novelistic bent, collaborated with Sinclair Lewis on my favorite novel about science, Arrowsmith. de Kruif’s name isn’t on the title page, but he helped Lewis plot the novel and get the science right. (The book won a Pulitzer Prize,but Lewis refused it.) Can I get a Darwin for Arrowsmith? (More on Jerry DeWitt tomorrow.)

Microbe Hunters is a tad breathy and puple-ish, but conveys the excitement of discovery better than almost any popular science book I know. Reviewer M. Crasnier-Mednansky notes:

As the lively stories for van Leeuwenhoek (1632-1723), Spallanzani (1729-1799), Pasteur (1822-1895), Koch (1843-1910), Roux (1853-1893), Behring (1854-1917), Metchnikoss (1845-1916), Theobald Smith (1869-1934), Bruce (1855-1931), Ross (1857-1932), Grassi (1854-1925), Walter Reed (1851-1902), and Paul Ehrlich (1854-1915) unfold, the reader is overwhelmed.

Indeed. My old copy is smudged and dog-eared from repeated readings. The book was enormously influential in turning many young people to science, and those include me.

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de Kruif on the cover of his autobiography

Baby tapir seeks name

June 29, 2013 • 10:17 am

The London Zoo website shows the institution’s new baby Malayan tapir (Tapirus indicus), which, like all baby tapirs, is striped and spotted, looking for all the world like a mammalian watermelon:

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First of all this baby, a male, needs a name. You can vote on the site above, though voting is supposed to have closed June 24. Your choices were (are) these:

Picture 1I don’t understand why animals in zoos have to be given names indicative of where they come from. Why can’t we choose among, say, “Fred,” “Hugh,” “Jerry,” or “Percy”? After all, these are now British tapirs. At any rate, you can see the ultimate choice at the London Zoo Twitter feed, though I don’t think the name’s been announced.

What’s more interesting is why the babies look like watermelons.  Now there are four species of tapirs, and in each case the juveniles look like the one above, but differ markedly from the color of the adults. (Drawings of adults and juveniles of the four species, and their ranges, are shown below). Since the patterns of juveniles differ slightly from each other, but are still similar, we can infer (weakly) that the pattern confers a selective advantage.

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Pictures below are from the Tapir Specialist Group:

The four living species (note the juveniles):

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Their distribution:

all_sp-posterWe’re not quite sure about the adaptive significance of the striking difference between adult and juvenile coloration, though I’d wager it’s an adaptation. (Maybe Larry Moran will come over and invoke genetic drift!)

In his three previous posts on tapir coloration (“How the tapir got his spots”, part I, part II, part III), Greg Mayer suggested that it’s adaptive for the young to be cryptic, perhaps because a dappled pattern hides them in vegetation (they lose this pattern at about 6 months old).  But why growing tapirs do lose this pattern is unknown. Perhaps they have no requirement to be cryptic since they aren’t easily hidden in low vegetation, and are better adapted by having solid or—in the Malayan taper—harlequin coloration.

We don’t know the answer, and since it’s unlikely zoologists will go around painting over juvenile tapirs or making spots on adults, we simply have to infer from other animals, and even here we don’t know much.  This is one of those questions for which the answer is in principle obtainable, but in practice is difficult—and perhaps not that interesting to zoologists.

Should atheists pray? A debate in the New York Times

June 29, 2013 • 7:50 am

Thursday’s New York Times op-ed section posed a curious question to five people: “Should atheists pray?”  The question:

With atheist church services this month in Louisiana and New York, nonbelievers are borrowing some of the rituals of believers: gathering, singing, sermons.

Would it be fruitful for atheists to pray? For believers and others, what is the point of prayer?

Now this is bizarre.  If you’re an atheist, you don’t believe in prayer, which is an explicit address to a deity. The Oxford English Dictionary gives its first meaning it as:

 A solemn request to God, a god, or other object of worship; a supplication or thanksgiving addressed to God or a god.

And there are in fact no secular meanings in the OED save the common one of “asking someone for something,” as in the archaic expression, “I pray you spare my life.” Of course there may be benefits to atheists in meditating, and I suppose you can meditate by pretending to talk to God, or ask him something, but that’s no better than pretending to talk to Santa Claus or Harvey, your invisible friend. It’s hypocritical, and I don’t know any atheists who do that.

So why the stupid question? It’s just another way that, in an age of declining faith, newspapers try to reassure the religious that they’re okay. After all, even atheists should pray.

The people asked, and part of their answers, are these:

Kevin L. Ladd, associate professor of psychology at Indiana University, South Bend and a former pastor, and co-author of “The Psychology of Prayer: A Scientific Approach.” Ladd’s view, expressed in “Prayer is ubiquitious for a reason,” is basically, “Well, it has psychological and physical benefits  for some, and perhaps even answers from God, but who knows?”:

Is prayer effective, for believers or atheists? Multiple sacred teachings indicate that prayer’s benefits are often beyond the physical realm; that claim is, by definition, not subject to scientific evaluation. Regarding physical benefits, the data are ambiguous. Very ill, very devout people pray hard every day. Some sick people live (including those who never pray). All of us eventually die (including those who pray).

The bottom line is that prayer is a paradoxical spiritual practice that does not guarantee predictably discernible efficacy at every turn. It’s not a cosmic vending machine. So why do people pray? Because they have faith that it is the right thing for them to do.

I can’t construe the phrase “benefits often beyond the physical realm,” since all benefits of prayer are physical: it either helps your mental state (which can be measured by psychological tests or brain scans) or it has tangible benefits in fulfilling your desires, which can also be tested.  The former benefits, if real, are no evidence for a God, while the latter are.  But the whole piece is confused.

Deepak Chopra, woomeister and quantum obfuscator, contributes an essay called, “Try silence and see where it leads.”  Deepak says the obvious: that prayer and meditation (which may have the same physiological effects though directed toward different ends), but then messes up his essay, as he always does, by talking about “higher realities”. What, exactly, is a “higher” reality.  There’s just reality.

Prayer and meditation both come with user’s manuals written by sages, seers and saints. The manuals point to a higher reality.. . .

. . . The next frontier is spiritual, drawing us into the mystery and excitement of higher consciousness, which is where the game really lies. Prayer is directed to an external God. Meditation is directed to the higher self. In the end, this distinction may not matter. As the spiritual teacher J. Krishnamurti reputedly said, “I used to pray to God, until I realized that I was praying to myself.”

Now there’s a Deepity! Or should I say “Deepakity”?

Rev. Joy J. Moore, described as  “the associate dean for African-American church studies and an assistant professor of preaching at Fuller Theological Seminary.” Her essay, “Prayer is not a monologue,”  She gives the only honest answer among the believers and accommodationists, for she sees it as a genuine interaction with an existing God:

Prayer should not be just a therapeutic mantra of positive thinking, as it might be for atheists. It is through prayer that theistic believers acknowledge both the existence and the intervening concern of a deity. Both reveal who we think is listening and what we believe the listener is capable of and willing to do.

. . . A belief that God is both just and influential invites petitioners to request a demonstration of that presence in the midst of a tragically dysfunctional world. Requests, then, acknowledge a power outside of ourselves whose concern for the good of creation is demonstrated by intervening to bring healing and restoration.

Prayer is not only a request of God, but a conversation with God. . . The efficacy of the act of prayer may indeed be quantified scientifically. But for those who believe in a deity, prayer is as much as a response to God as a request of God.

The last two sentences are bizarre. Tests of the efficacy of prayer have shown no effect.  Given that, she saves the day by arguing that even if it has no effect, it still reinforces your hope and faith. But if it doesn’t work, and it’s supposed to be a dialogue, then God isn’t talking back—so why believe?

Hal Taussig, described as “a visiting professor of New Testament at Union Theological Seminary and co-pastor of Chestnut Hill United Church in Philadelphia.” His piece, “An outpouring, not a loyalty oath,” sees the benefits of prayer as both social and psychological:

Prayer is not just one thing, but an inexact set of practices that allow people to connect more deeply to lived experience.

So, the main point of prayer is human aliveness. . . Although in some circumstances praying can be boring, pretentious or silly, it mostly contributes to people shining, growing, reflecting, seizing the moment, resisting numbness, opening themselves, facing pain and problems, and coming closer to one another.

And his answer seems to be “Yes, atheists can pray,” but only because he redefines “prayer” as meditation:

Perhaps even more surprising is that prayer does not require conscious allegiance to God. That some want prayer to be a kind of loyalty oath to God robs prayer of much of its power to orient and energize people. The urge to pray comes not so much from some divine policing of our behavior as from needs to cry out in pain, roar with joy upon landing a job, or stand still to remember a friend.

Hemant Mehta, the”Friendly Atheist.” We all know Hemant, and I’ve saved him for last, since he pulls no punches in his piece, “A useless habit with a dark side.” I’ll reproduce his pice in its entirety because it’s good, and it expresses my own sentiments exactly. It’s also a good palliative for the weaseling of the other commenters. In effect, Hemant says that not only should atheists not pray, but neither should anyone else.

While the main purpose of prayer may be to help others, it never demonstrably does that. Prayers benefit only those believers who say or hear them. Prayer gives them comfort. It lets them think they have some control over a situation that may be out of their hands. It’s the last resort of people who have run out of ideas, and the first resort of people who never bothered to think about how they could actually fix the problem at hand.

This is not harmless. There’s a very real downside to praying. It lulls believers into a false sense of accomplishment. We cannot solve our problems – much less the world’s – through prayer. We often see people with good intentions praying for victims in the wake of a tragedy, but prayer is useless without action, and those actions make the prayers irrelevant. To paraphrase the great Robert Green Ingersoll, hands that help are far better than lips that pray.

I have no problem with “prayer” as an act of meditation. In fact, many atheists can tell you the benefit of silent self-reflection. The delusion occurs when you think someone else is hearing your thoughts and acting on them.

When it comes down to it, prayer is illogical, even in religious terms. If God has a plan, why try to thwart it? If God can be swayed by prayers, what kind of God would allow the horrors we see in the world? And if two devout believers pray for different things, how does God choose the winner? (I’m sure the San Antonio Spurs would love to know the answer to that.)

Prayer is nothing but a powerful placebo. We’d all be better off accepting that.

Save Hemant’s fusillade against prayer, the whole NYT dialogue was a useless exercise. The only rational answer to the question asked, ‘Should atheists pray?” is “No, because they don’t believe in God, but they may get some benefits from meditation.”  All else is deepity.

h/t: Diane G.

Caturday felids: two cat photo sites

June 29, 2013 • 4:33 am

This week readers Matt and Avis have called my attention to two cat photo websites you’ll want to see—that is, if you’re an ailurophile (and you shouldn’t be here otherwise).

The first is a small site called “Marvelous cat photography,” by “Abduzeedo,” a Brazilian whose real name is Paulo Gabriel, an avowed but open-minded “d-g person”. Paulo collects striking cat pictures from other people, and here’s a sample (you can see each photographer’s portfolio by clicking the images on the original site):

By Romain Matteï
By Romain Matteï
By Klem
By Klem

Cat in the snow:

By Andre Villeneuve
By Andre Villeneuve
By Seiji Mamiya
By Seiji Mamiya
by Seiji Mamiya
by Seiji Mamiya

The second is a tumblr website called Catasters, which apparently is short for “cats + disasters,” which purports to show moggies in trouble or incipient trouble. But in most cases they’re just funny. Here are a few shots:

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Epic photobomb, reminiscent of my cat beard contest:

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These are from only the first 5 pages; there are are 528 others!

A mimic eats its model

June 28, 2013 • 5:10 pm

This is another remarkable photograph—and biology lesson—from Alex Wild’s great website Myrmecos.  If you have any interest in nature photography or insects, it will pay you to bookmark it and check the site regularly.

There are many flies—as well as lepidopterans—that have evolved to resemble wasps and bees, fooling predators that have either evolved or learned to avoid that sting-inducing black-and-yellow pattern.  Such cases (and you should know this by now) are called Batesian mimicry, after the naturalist H. W. Bates, who first described the phenomenon whereby an edible species (the “mimic”) evolves to resemble a toxic, dangerous, or distasteful “model,” fooling the predator (the “signal receiver”) into avoiding the mimic.

Alex’s notes:

No, not a bee eating a bee. Even better! This is a bee-mimicking robber fly, Laphria, feeding on a honey bee. The fly casually alighted next to me in the garden this afternoon, as though it wanted to be photographed with a trophy kill.

Laphria is an exemplary bumble bee mimic. The flies not only look like bumble bees, they move and sound like them as well.

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I was once fooled by a wasp-mimicking moth when I lived in Maryland. Seeing what looked like a stinging insect on the inside of my window, I carefully caught it with my Drosophila net. When I found out it was a mimic and not in the least dangerous, I was embarrassed!

Here’s a clear-winged moth from FotoLog; I’m not sure of the species, nor whether it’s the one I saw in Maryland, but the resemblance between members of two insect orders (Lepidoptera and Hymenoptera) is remarkable—look at those stripes!

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Lame duck story: thanks to science, disabled mallard gets prosthetic foot

June 28, 2013 • 10:19 am

Here’s the usual heartwarmer to end the week. And I can’t refrain from saying this:  religion and prayer aren’t going to fix a duck’s amputated foot. (Remember “Why won ‘t God heal amputees?“) But science can—and did!

Last November a male duck named Buttercup was born (in a high-school biology lab!) with a deformed and backward-pointing foot.  He was transferred to the Feathered Angels Waterfowl Sanctuary in Tennesee, whose employees decided to help him. The foot was was amputated, and then the kindly people at the Sanctuary went into action.
Story and photos from C/Net Australia and  Treehugger
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From C/Net:

After Buttercup had his foot amputated in February, Garey — a software engineer by trade — started looking into options for a replacement limb. Sure, Buttercup could have a peg leg; but what if Garey could replace the entire foot?

After shopping around for a service, he found 3D printing company NovaCopy, which agreed to donate its services to helping Buttercup walk again. Together, using photos of the left foot of Buttercup’s sister Minnie, they designed a brand new left foot for Buttercup.

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The computer design:
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Because the foot needs to be flexible, the usual plastics used in 3D printing aren’t viable. Instead, NovaCopy printed a mould, which will be used to cast a silicone foot for the lucky duck, creating several iterations of the design to come up with the perfect one. It will be attached to his foot via a silicone sheath.

“This version will have a stretchy silicone sock instead of the finger trap, which will roll up on his leg, be inserted into the foot and then have a fastener in the bottom,” Garey said. “If you saw Dolphin Tail, this material is similar to the WintersGel that they used.” WintersGel is a prosthetic liner that grips the amputated limb.

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The replica of Minnie’s foot that will be used to create a prosthetic for Buttercup.
(Credit: Feathered Angels Waterfowl Sanctuary)
Of course Buttercup has his own Facebook page, which you can follow as the prosthesis is attached. The final fitting should be within two weeks.
Now maybe some of you are thinking, “Why all this fuss about a prosthetic foot for a duck? Why not just eat it?”  But I believe that ducks enjoy their lives, and can experience suffering and happiness. And I can’t help but believe that if this duck had a choice, it would want a new foot.  As an evolutionary biologist I see no qualitative distinction between the suffering of humans and animals—humans can just express it more emotively. And so I find it heartwarming that people are volunteering time and resources to improve the life of a single waterfowl.

The duck in the movie below might be Buttercup, though I’m not sure. It does, however, have an injured left foot:

h/t: Michael