More creationism sneaks into public schools

April 29, 2013 • 6:52 am

Reader Hempenstein called my attention to a long piece in yesterday’s Pittsburgh Post-Gazette by David Templeton (no relation, I suspect): “Is evolution missing link in some Pennsylvania high schools?” It’s good in not only laying out why evolution should be taught in public school science classrooms and why ID and creationism should not, but also in raising a red flag about how pervasive creationist teachings still are.  Although the Dover case in 2005 should have stopped the teaching of religiously-based “science” in Pennsylvania public schools, if not in all U.S. public schools, it didn’t. Creationism and ID still sneak in under the radar, and that’s evident from the Post-Gazette‘s survey of science teachers.

The paper surveyed 106 science teachers in Pennsylvania high schools, asking them the two questions below. (Teachers could specify more than one answer, so they don’t add up to 100%. I suppose some teachers could, like Michael Behe, accept a limited amount of “microevolution” but still see ID or creationism as a supplementary process.)  The article doesn’t state at which level the respondents actually taught, but I suspect they represent high-school teachers since evolution isn’t often taught below that level.

Note that although the sample is small, one would expect that the proportion of “creationist” answers would be underrepresented, simply because most teachers don’t want to go public (even in an anonymous survey) with their views.

Survey

Now acceptance of evolutionary theory has generally been flat over the past thirty years, with perhaps a very, very slight increase in acceptance of naturalistic (non-theistic) evolution, but the latest Gallup survey also shows an increase in straight young-earth creationism as well.  More disturbing is the 32% of responses showing that some teachers adhere to a form of creationism. And although the survey doesn’t say what proportion of total teachers that represents, it’s clear that a sizable minority of teachers don’t accept the consensus view of the origin and diversity of life.

What’s even more surprising is that at least one of these teachers chose to go public in the paper, risking his school’s being slapped with a lawsuit. I’ve highlighted his names and school below.

Sometimes students honestly look me in the eye and ask what do I think? I tell them that I personally hold the Bible as the source of truth,” said Joe Sohmer, who teaches chemistry at the Altoona Area High School. The topic arises, he said, when he teaches radiocarbon dating, with that method often concluding archeological finds to be older than 10,000 years, which he says is the Bible-based age of Earth. “I tell them that I don’t think [radiocarbon dating] is as valid as the textbook says it is, noting other scientific problems with the dating method.

“Kids ask all kinds of personal questions and that’s one I don’t shy away from,” he said. “It doesn’t in any way disrupt the educational process. I’m entitled to my beliefs as much as the evolutionist is.” [JAC: yeah, but he’s not entitled to foist them on credulous high-school students!]

Mr. Sohmer responded to a Pittsburgh Post-Gazette questionnaire distributed this spring to school teachers statewide, and he agreed to discuss his teaching philosophy. He said school officials are comfortable with his methods.

Another teacher wisely chose to remain anonymous but was explicit about how he/she sneaks creationism in under the radar:

An Indiana County science teacher responded to the questionnaire more adamantly.

“Most parents and officials do not want evolution ‘crammed’ into their children. They have serious philosophical/religious issues with public schools dictating to their students how to interpret the origin of life,” stated the teacher, who did not respond to a request for an interview. His questionnaire says he teaches creationism for the equivalent of a class period, with five classes devoted to evolution.

“I have been questioned in the past about how I teach evolution principles, and [school officials] are satisfied with my approach,” he said. “My approach is to teach the textbook content of Darwinian evolution but modified to explain that data can be interpreted differently dependent upon one’s world view.”

Once again the schools are “satisfied” with that approach. Shame on them!

As usual, no matter how good state standards are for teaching evolution, they don’t represent what’s taught in the classroom. The 2009 Meade and Mates paper (free download here), for instance, gives Pennsylvania an “A” grade for having rigorous state science standards in schools, but look at this:

The Penn State survey said the teachers identifying themselves as creationists spend at least an hour of classroom time on creationism in a way suggesting it to be a valid scientific alternative. “Between 17 and 21 percent [of teachers in the survey] introduce creationism into the classroom,” he said. “Some are young-Earth creationist but not all of them are. Some aren’t even creationists.”

But Mr. Berkman said their most alarming finding was that teachers need not introduce creationism in class to undercut interest and belief in evolution.

“You just have to throw doubt and downplay evolution,” he said. “The idea that teachers are doing a really weak job — many a really weak job — of introducing evolution, we think, is because of reactions they get and maybe because of the lack of confidence in what they are teaching. That especially is the case with evolution, where many students have been primed by parents and youth groups to raise difficult and challenging questions.”

More than half of high-school students (at least those who go to Duquesne University, a good school, don’t get much evolution in high school:

Duquesne University biology professor David Lampe, who organizes the university’s Darwin Day celebration each February, asks freshman biology students to complete an informal questionnaire each year before his class on evolution begins. His results indicate that a quarter to a third of freshmen claim to have had no instruction in evolution, with another third saying that only two class days or fewer were devoted to the topic. Only a third received three days or more of instruction on the topic.

“I don’t think we’ll ever stop people from objecting to the teaching of evolution,” Mr. Lampe said. “It is not an issue of interpreting scientific data. No one in science seriously questions whether evolution is real. It is still a theological problem for people.”

OMG! Religion! Shame on Lampe for telling the truth.
The lesson is twofold. First, don’t count on science standards to give an idea of what students are actually taught. Standards are there to sound good, but how often do people check whether they’re actually met in the classroom? Not often, I suspect.  Second, we must be eternally vigilant about creeping creationism—that is, at least, until the problem goes away, which requires the diminution of religion in the U.S.  It’s illegal to teach creationism in public schools under the First Amendment, but many teachers quietly ignore that in favor of foisting their religious convictions, disguised as science, on kids.  That is a form of intellectual child abuse.  As Lampe notes:

Mr. Lampe also objects to the bill.

“Academic freedom? I’ll tell you what it’s not. It’s not freedom to say anything you want in the classroom. In the classroom, you are obligated to teach scientific facts and methods. It’s not a forum for teachers to go off and talk about whatever they want to.

Damn straight, and that goes at the university level too—especially public universities. Regardless of what P. Z. Myers and Larry Moran say, it’s not a professor’s right to teach any damn thing he wants in an elective university course. Can a geology teacher blithely tell his students that the earth is flat, or a European history professor that the Holocaust didn’t happen?  That’s not academic freedom, but dereliction of duty. Such professors should be warned, and then removed from teaching the course if they don’t stop.  There are standards of scholarship that should be maintained in universities. And if a professor’s teaching violates the First Amendment, there are other recourses.  Despite Moran and Meyer’s asseveration that this is not a legal issue when it comes to universities, we’ll see what civil liberties lawyers say about that!
A few readers’ comments from the Post-Gazette piece. I was pleasantly surprised at how pro-evolution they are, but of course there are a few skunks in the woodpile:

Creationism PPG

Creationism 2 PPG

Like one of Shakespeare’s tension-reducing clowns, I’ll throw in, at the end, this funny picture about a Pennsylvania reverend who has run a series of classes in his church touting creationism and attacking evolution. The articles quotes him:

“We totally lost our influence in the public schools, which have lost the calling,” he said. “I want to take our schools back and build a base of knowledge, because we have a battle ahead. We are not going to get mad. We are going to get busy.”

The first step, he announced, was passage of an academic freedom bill similar to what Tennessee passed last year and Louisiana passed in 2009.

the-rev-donn-chapman_original

At Cornerstone Church, the Rev. Donn Chapman, a creationist, delivers a lecture April 10 on what
he says are the “falsehoods” of evolutionary theory. Photo by Michael Henninger/Post-Gazette

Spring boots

April 29, 2013 • 4:22 am

I’m fortunate to have the same boot size as several famous bootmakers (9D), and can occasionally acquire boots that they made for themselves.  This unique pair was made by famed bootmaker Terry Stanley for his own feetz. They’re not only pure ostrich, but are made of two pieces of leather instead of the usual four. This means that there’s no junction between the “vamp” (the front foot part) and the “shaft” (the cylinder above the foot part), making the boots incredibly pliable and comfortable.

You can see on the shaft where Stanley has inlaid his initial, “S”, in a sort of Gothic heraldry style. There is also “foxing” (overlay decoration) on the “counter” (heel).

These may be the most comfortable boots I own. Ostrich leather (the holes are where the feathers were) is not only soft, but quite durable.

Boots 1

Fog: Chicago

April 29, 2013 • 4:20 am

Posting will be light this week as I must teach, travel to North Carolina to give a talk on Wednesday, and I’m still recovering from a tummy virus. But, as Maru says, “I do my best.”

Chicago has been particularly picturesque this week. Last night it was foggy, and I couldn’t see the skyscrapers downtown, but the view of the University of Chicago from my crib was eerie (Click to enlarge):

Chicago

A modest proposal: testing the Cinderella Effect

April 28, 2013 • 11:44 am

One of the most prominent results of evolutionary psychology research is “the Cinderella Effect,” made famous by the work of Margo Wilson and Martin Daly (you can find one of their summary papers here). Although I don’t pretend to be an expert on the extensive literature on this phenomenon, it’s pretty much what the name connotes: the more abusive treatment by parents (usually males) of stepchildren than of their genetically related offspring.  Studies have repeatedly shown that, when corrected for the proportion of stepparents among all parents, and step-children among children in a family, the step-children receive disproportionately more abuse than do genetically related children.

While these data have been disputed, I think the pattern has held up pretty well. (Anecdotally, I’ve seen this in my own family: my father’s mother died of Spanish influenza in 1918, a few months after he was born, and after his father remarried, they had another child. My father was severely mistreated compared to his half-brother. In fact, his childhood was made so unhappy by his stepmother’s abuse that he didn’t speak to his half-brother until he was about 60.)

To an evolutionary biologist, the Cinderella Effect has an obvious explanation: genetic relatedness.  If you marry someone who already has a child, and then produce your own child with him or her, that natural child shares half of your genes while your stepchild shares none.  Evolutionarily, it would pay you to funnel resources and solicitude toward your natural child and not the stepchild, because those resources will propagate the behavioral genes that promote such preferential care. In fact, adoption is rare among animals, probably for this very reason. Infanticide, too, has a similar explanation: when male lions take over a pride, they often kill all the cubs of the females, bringing the females back into estrus so they can produce the new males’ genetic offspring. It wouldn’t pay a male lion, evolutionarily, to take care of unrelated cubs—even though females do most of the hunting.

When I first heard about this, it made evolutionary sense to me, but I formulated an alternative hypothesis, not based on relatedness, that could explain the same thing. This hypothesis differs from the five “alternative hypotheses” described in the Wikipedia article for the Cinderella Effect.

Here’s my alternative, and I’m sure someone’s suggested it before.  It’s based on convenience rather than relatedness.  When one marries or mates with a previously-mated spouse, you may often do so because you love that man or woman rather than that person combined with their children.  That is, it’s possible that the children of the previous mate are regarded as encumbrances rather than part of the “love package.”  If you then have your own genetic children with that mate, they would represent a deliberate choice rather than an encumbrance.  Ergo, because you choose your own children but not your step-children, you may treat the latter abusively. (Note that this explanation still has an evolutionary basis—you have genetic children to pass on your own genes—but the differential treatment is based not on a “relatedness module” but on culture.

My alternative theory predicts results to those of the Cinderella Hypothesis. How, then, can one discriminate among them? What you need to do is find some items that are not children, but which you can choose to acquire with your new mate versus items he or she  acquired before they met you. This would separate genetic relatedness from the “acquisition” hypothesis.  What items could you use?

Pets!

If you marry someone who already has a pet, you might regard that pet as an encumbrance in the same way you’d regard a stepchild.  You didn’t choose the pet and you may not like it very much. In contrast, if you and your mate select a pet together, you’d be more inclined, under my hypothesis, to treat it better.  Ergo, the prediction of Coyne’s Encumbrance Theory is that step-pets will be mistreated or abused more than “own” pets.

Of course, there’s nothing that prevents my mechanism from operating in tandem with the genetically-based theory.

This is a bit tongue-in-cheek, but not completely.  And, as I said above, I’m not deeply acquainted with the Daly and Wilson theory—though I think it’s intriguing and possibly correct—so I may have overlooked someone who’s already suggested my hypothesis.

Picture 1
Remember him?

On the usefulness of Twitter: #spaceape vs #aquaticape

April 28, 2013 • 9:44 am

by Matthew Cobb

Jerry (see previous post) is rightfully pleased that the excellent Jab Amurad of the fabulous NPR programme Radiolab has mentioned WEIT’s twitter feed (@evolutoinistrue) in the NYT. Radiolab is marvellous (and I too have been on it in an adult-rated episode, along with fellow-Brits Steve Jones and Tim Birkhead…) so Jerry’s pleasure is quite justified.

BUT, like the curmudgeon he is (don’t forget, he calls this a WEBSITE when we all know it’s a BLOG – I’ll probably get banned for that), Jerry can’t resist griping about Twitter, suggesting it’s all about what you have for breakfast etc etc. Jerry, that is so 2007. Twitter today is MUCH more interesting, and even funny. My proof, the current spoof hashtag that’s keeping people all over the world busy on Sunday when they should be doing something else: #spaceape.

This arose earlier today as a spoof of the silly ‘aquatic ape’ hypothesis that Elaine Morgan popularised in the 1970s and which argues that the human lineage spent a long time in the sea, which claims to explain our (relative) lack of thick hair, fat distribution etc. This has resurfaced (excuse the pun) because in the Observer (aka the Sunday Guardian), Robin McKie has published an article about an upcoming conference on the topic, which got the folks at the Guardian, and many of the commenters very excited. I’m not going to go into the whole thing again (Greg posted a nice, brief piece with good links back in 2009, or you could look at today’s excellent post by Paolo Viscardi), but please feel free if you wish to chip in below.

Rather than get into unhelpful 140 character squabbles, the good people of Twitter decided to make fun of the whole basis of the idea (apparent correlations with no evidence) by suggesting that humans in fact evolved from space apes. Here are just a few of the recent ones (I particularly like the last one). You don’t need to be on Twitter, you can see it all here. [EDIT: The whole #spaceape thing was the idea of Brenna Hassett (@Brennawalks) on her BLOG].

tweet2

A shout-out from Jad Abumrad

April 28, 2013 • 8:28 am

OMG—a reader called to my attention a profile in today’s New York Times of Jad Abumrad, who is the creator and co-host of NPR’s Radiolab, a science-y show with a humorous twist. The piece details what he’s reading, watching, listening to, and following on social media. A friend emailed me to read the piece carefully, and I did. I didn’t see anything unusual, and said so.  I was then told to look at what Twitter feeds he follows, and I found that I had read right through this without noticing:

Picture 1

Well that brightens up my Sunday, particularly because the guy is science-y and I’ve been on RadioLab with Abumrad and Robert Krulwich (go here for my botfly piece, starting at 44:20).  Plus, I don’t really tweet:  the “@evolutionistrue” feed is simply a chronological list of posts at this site.  I’m not sure, though, what Abumrad means by “curator types”! The only things I curate are boots and cigars.

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Abumrad (from the NYT piece)

At any rate, you’re all invited to follow this @evolutionistrue on Twitter, but don’t expect more than a notice of new posts. I don’t engage in Twitter wars, tell everyone what I’ve had for breakfast, and simply don’t understand why so many people either find it necessary to tweet or have time to do it. (Yes, I know I’m acting like a curmudgeon.)

h/t: WW

My visit to Purdue

April 28, 2013 • 5:25 am

Last week I visited Purdue University in West Lafayette, Indiana, to give two talks—one on my fly work (now winding down) and the other on evolution, creationism, and religion. My host was the genial Morris Levy who, with his wife Maria, did a lot to make my visit comfortable and pleasant.  On the last day, before I took the bus back to Chicago (there’s no airport in Lafayette), they took me on a sightseeing tour of campus. Here are a few holidays snaps from that tour.

The first stop was the football stadium. Purdue’s athletic teams have the unusual name of “The Boilermakers”, which, according to Wikipedia, stems from the school’s reputation (still high) for engineering:

The nickname ‘Boilermakers’ goes back to 1891 when the Purdue football team defeated nearby rival Wabash College in Crawfordsville, Indiana 44–0. An account of the game in the Crawfordsville Daily Argus News of October 26, 1891 was headlined, “Slaughter of Innocents: Wabash Snowed Completely Under by the Burly Boiler Makers from Purdue.” Engineering education in the 1890s at Purdue meant hands-on work in the forge room, where students heated and molded metal, just like the “blacksmiths” and “boilermakers” the football team was called after defeating opponents. The local Purdue press picked up on the name, with a notice in the November 1, 1891 Lafayette Sunday Times, “As everyone knows, Purdue went down to Wabash last Saturday and defeated their eleven. The Crawfordsville papers have not yet gotten over it. The only recourse they have is to claim that we beat their ‘scientific’ men by brute force. Our players are characterized as ‘coal heavers,’ ‘boiler makers’ and ‘stevedores.'”

Outside the stadium is, in fact, a large statue of a boilermaker:

Boilermaker

Purdue is a wealthy university, and is big on statues, so one can find some awesome sculptures. One of the engineering buildings is named after Neil Armstrong, the first man to set foot on the Moon and an alumnus of Purdue. (He and one other astronaut, whose name I can’t recall, got their start as majors in aeronautical engineering at the school.) Although Armstrong died last year, he attended the dedication of this building and the unveiling of his statue, which shows him sitting in an informal pose:

Armstrong

My favorite statue of all, though, was this one in front of the veterinary school. It shows a bunch of domesticated animals and two vets taking care of them. The skeletons of a few animals are also shown on their outsides, a macabre touch that I could have done without. But really, this is a cool group of sculptures that evinces a certain sense of humor.

Note the cat to the right of the horse’s foreleg.

Vet school 1

Of course I had to be photographed petting the kitty (note the innards; what is that thing?):

Cat

The new president of Purdue is the former governor of Indiana, Mitch Daniels. He lives in a large and spiffy house on the edge of campus, and we drove onto the spacious grounds so I could take a picture. I was told that although this is the official President’s House, he doesn’t live there most of the time:

 

I had requested to eat at West Lafayette’s most famous restaurant, the Triple XXX Family Restaurant (a name not only reundant, but contradictory!). It’s very old, and is in fact the remnants of the first drive-in restaurant in Indiana, opened in 1929 (for you non-Americans, that’s a restaurant where one can drive up to a microphone, order food, and have it delivered to your car, where you eat it while schmoozing with your date and fellow students). The drive-in part is now defunct, but you can see the car bays below.

Restaurant, outsiide

The XXX is famous for two things: the Duane Purvis burger, a hamburger with cheese that is underlain by a thick coat of creamy peanut butter, and its root beer, brewed especially for the restaurant by a firm in Chicago. Although the burger sounds dire, it’s actually quite good: the peanut butter nicely complements the meat and cheese. And the root beer, not too sweet or carbonated and loaded with root-y flavors, is a good complement.

Here’s the menu—MEATY!  I, of course, had the Duane Purvis and a root beer.

Menu

Purvis (1913-1989) was a famous halfback and fullback on the Purdue football team, selected as an All-American player in 1933 and 1934. He was also a superb javelin thrower: his record at that sport wasn’t broken until 1982. Here’s his picture, overlooking the many XXX customers who nom his eponymous burger:

Duane Purvis

How the burger came to be named after Purvis is not quite clear; the owner told me that Purvis’s son, who still lives near Purdue, related how his dad would put peanut butter on everything, and asked the XXX to prepare him a burger smeared with the substance.

At any rate, the burger lives on in in infamy. Here’s mine, with a root beer.

Burger and root beer

It was good! This close-up shot shows the melting peanut butter oozing out from under the meat patty:

Peanut butter

Here are Maria, Morry, and I, about to tuck into our burgers:

Maria, Morry, me

Finally, a group of college girls came in to eat, and I couldn’t help thinking that their poses would make a nice “decisive moment” photo in the Cartier-Bresson-ian sense. I surreptitiously snapped them when they unwittingly fell into a sort of pattern.

Students

Next week: Appalachian State University, with an awesome schedule of nomes and sightseeing. Besides my talk (there will be a secret word to get a cat drawn in your copy of WEIT), I’ll be talking to the atheist and secular student group, as well as a class in religious studies.

Chicago: Dawn with fog

April 28, 2013 • 4:50 am

When I used to hike in the Himalayas, my favorite times were when the large mountains, like Kanchenjunga or Everest, poked their heads out of the clouds, so that one saw only a mass of gray sky with a peak sticking out way up high where the sun should be. It was even more beautiful in the evenings when the protruding peak would be purple and gold. (Sadly, all my photos are on 35 mm slides, so I can’t reproduce them here.)

I don’t get those views any more, but something approximating them occasionally happens in Chicago.  Here’s dawn just a short while ago:

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