NPR series on Americans’ loss of faith

January 17, 2013 • 5:43 am

Starting last Sunday, National Public Radio (NPR) in the U.S. has had a daily segment on “The Morning Edition” called “Losing Our Religion”.  You can access all the archived segments here; each is about 8 minutes long and contains a transcript if you can read faster than you can listen. Here are the shows so far:

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The first transcript includes this graph from a Gallup poll that documents the growth of nonbelief in America. Remember that the “nones,” who comprise those not affiliated with any faith, include not only atheists and agnostics but people who consider themselves “spiritual” or religious but not part of any organized faith: Picture 4

This will not hearten those who say that “religion will always be with us,” and, indeed, I don’t think it will be. It’s just that we won’t be around when it disappears.

Pelicans!

January 17, 2013 • 5:18 am

Matthew Cobb has pointed me to a wonderful website called “WTF, Evolution?“, in which photos of nature’s oddities are given funny captions.  It shows that if you were present when the first replicator formed, and asked to guess what creatures would evolve, you’d never even get close to things like the pig-nosed frog (see it: first on the page!).

Or the pelican. Here’s a recent post—a photo captioned: “This pelican looks like a urinal. Go home, evolution, you are drunk.”

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And a famous pelican limerick that you may not know:

A Wonderful Bird is the Pelican
by Dixon Lanier Merritt

A wonderful bird is the pelican,
His bill will hold more than his belican,
He can take in his beak
Enough food for a week
But I’m damned if I see how the helican!

As Wikipedia notes (link above):

The limerick, inspired by a post card sent to him by a female reader of his newspaper column who was visiting Florida beaches. It is often misattributed to Ogden Nash and is widely misquoted as demonstrated above. It is quoted in a number of scholarly works on ornithology, including “Manual of Ornithology: Avian Structure and Function,” by Noble S. Proctor and Patrick J. Lynch, and several others.

That beak is gynormous.  In an incident that shocked and disgusted many in 2006, a pelican devoured a live pigeon in London after holding it in its beak for 20 minutes. A photographer captured the carnage, and the BBC reported:

Mr McNaughton, from the Press Association, said: “The pelican was on the towpath preening itself, and there were a lot of tourists watching it.

“Then the bird got up and strolled along until it reached one of the pigeons, which it just grabbed in its beak.

“There was a bit of a struggle for about 20 minutes, with all these people watching. The pelican only opened its mouth a couple of times.

“Then it managed to get the pigeon to go head first down its throat. It was kicking and flapping the whole way down.”

Photo by Cathal McNaughton.
Photo by Cathal McNaughton.

And a happier picture: a fish market in the Galápagos that I photographed in March, 2010:

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h/t: Gattina

Endless flies most beautiful

January 16, 2013 • 3:57 pm

By Matthew Cobb

A Hedgehog fly, aka Adejeania – a Peruvian caterpillar parasitoid. “Groucho fly” would be better. The “cigar” is a pair of enlarged palps, probably used to detect prey. (c) Stephen Marshall

Like Jerry, I study what many scientists call ‘The Fly’ – Drosophila melanogaster. Unlike many of our colleagues, however, we both know that other flies are available, and that in some ways D. melanogaster has been turned into a piece of laboratory equipment , for we have virtually no idea about what it actually gets up to in the wild. Both Jerry and I have studied other species, though only (I think) closely related species of Drosophila. Heavens, we’ve even gone hunting for them in Africa (guided, and in Jerry’s case alongside, the sadly departed Daniel Lachaise). (In 2006 Jerry and I published a memorial article to Daniel, which is sadly behind a paywall).

However, any feeling that I had the slightest idea about the variety to be found within my chosen study group – Diptera – has been blown away by reading Stephen A. Marshall’s stupendous new book, Flies: The Natural History and Diversity of Diptera, which appeared at the end of last year. I bought myself a copy for Xmas, and unless you are a thorough dipterophobe, I urge you to order a copy NOW! Both the pictures and the text will enlighten and amaze you. As E. O Wilson rightly says: “Stephen A. Marshall has delivered one of the most beautiful and useful accounts of insect life ever written.

Steve even makes me feel not so bad about my Drosophila-centred knowledge – “The genus Drosophila, with some 1,500 species, is larger and more diverse than most families of living things.”

Steve is based at the University of Guelph in Ontario and is both a skilled entomologist and a great photographer. I’ve scanned a few of the pictures, with Steve’s permission (apologies to all for any crappy scanning and cropping). Most of the hundreds of images show flies in their natural surroundings, a very few are of skewered museum specimens and there are loads of pictures of the larval stages.

There is a great section on the various flies that live in and around streams around the world – many of them nasty bitey things that make those beautiful areas relatively inhospitable (I’m looking at you, Highlands of Scotland). I always wondered what all those biting flies did when there aren’t people about, and answered myself by saying ‘well they must bite other mammals’. That’s no doubt true, but Flies shows us that they also bite other flies:

Here’s a biting midge taking a meal from a crane fly:

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Here  Forcipomyia biting midges suck the blood from the wing veins of a lacewing.

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(c) Stephen Marshall

Flies is divided into three parts – Life Histories, Habits and Habitats; Diversity (the bulk of the book) and Identifying and Studying (including some keys that look user-friendly, but will be difficult, because taxonomy is).

One of things that soon becomes clear is that apart from biting and eating crap, many flies are cunning kleptoparasites – they steal predator’s food. Here are a couple of dramatic photos.

First, “Adults of milichiid genus Desmometopa are often specialized kleptoparasites, swiftly attracted to Honey Bees captured by other arthropods such as robber flies or spiders, like the Cuban lynx spider shown here.”

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(c) Stephen Marshall

These Olcella flies (can you see both of them?) are getting a quick meal from some hapless ant that is being snarfed by a spider (that’s my caption, not Steve’s):

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(c) Stephen Marshall

The Diversity sections is divided into three main chapters, corresponding to the current classification of the order (this has changed a number of times!) – the Lower Diptera (includes mosquitoes, crane flies and lots and lots of midges), the Lower Brachycera and Empidoidea (the former includes Horse flies and Bee flies, the later are the “Dance flies”), with the final, and biggest, chapter, devoted to the Higher Brachycera or what I still call the Cyclorrapha, which includes almost half of identified fly species, including Drosophila melanogaster.

Each of these chapters consists of a brief explanation of the classification – invaluable for an ignoramus like me – followed by page after page of fantastic photos, each with an informative caption.

Here are some of my favourites. First, members of the Rachicerus genus looks like they have multi-segmented comb-like antennae. Why? Their larvae live under the bark of trees where they eat other larvae:

antennae
(c) Stephen Marshall

A male Lindneromyia – found in soft fungi throughout the world (NO IT HAS NOT BEEN PHOTOSHOPPED). The eyes of the female are small and separated. Presumably either the male has to track the female for mating, or he is subject to some specific natural selection pressure that means he needs what looks like 360 degree vision.

eyes
(c) Stephen Marshall

Bromophila caffra from Africa. This species, like others in its genus, “has the startling habit of ejecting yellow fluid from its mouth”. Note it does not have any ocelli – the three tiny extra eye-patches on the top of the head that are used for detecting polarised light. Even Lindneromyia has them.

(c) Stephen Marshall
(c) Stephen Marshall

And finally, can you guess what is weird about this Ormia fly? (Answer below the photo)

nocturnal
(c) Stephen Marshall

It’s nocturnal. Very few flies fly in the dark. These parasitise crickets, using  specially-enlarged structure to detect the vibrations produced by their prey. Look at those long legs!

This is just a fraction of the wonders that await you inside the pages of this marvellous book!

Stephen A Marshall (2012) Flies: The Natural History and Diversity of Diptera. Firefly Books. ISBN-13: 978-1770851009

Raptor!

January 16, 2013 • 3:22 pm

Exactly 22 minutes ago a student sent this email around to the department:

Hey everyone!

I just looked out my office window and there is a big, raptor-looking bird on one of the trees next to botany pond. It’s in a big tree on the west side of the pond, between Erman and Culver.  It’s about half way up and on the east side of the tree (facing Erman).  It is just hanging out if anyone wants to see some biodiversity!

Of course I rushed downstairs. grabbing my camera. At first I couldn’t see anything, but then someone pointed to a blob on a branch (click all photos to enlarge):

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Well, I posted this first as a peregrine falcon in my enthusiasm, but after looking it up it’s clearly not.

UPDATE: several readers and two ornithologists have identified this as a Cooper’s Hawk (Accipiter cooperii). My colleague Steve Pruett-Jones adds this:

The bird is a Cooper’s hawk. Likely a female, but sex is a little hard to tell from a photograph, without a size reference. Females are 40-60% bigger than males in this species. The overall posture, the relative size, plus the shape of the tail indicates that the bird is NOT a sharp-shined hawk. Cooper’s hawks and sharp-shinned hawks look very similar except for size, shape of tail, etc.

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It may be a kestrel, but I’ll let a reader identify it. At any rate, I’ve never gotten so close to one before. It was wary, but not overly nervous.  And its eyes were red!

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Such a magnificent animal.  It flew to a tree, stayed for a while (I fear that I might have driven it away) and then winged off, presumably looking for food.

One swallow does not a summer make, but one hawk can make a day.

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The answer to “Whaddizit?”

January 16, 2013 • 1:04 pm

The picture shown in this morning’s post is, as someone finally guessed, the dome of the Stadshuset, the City Hall of Stockholm (built 1911-1923).  Besides having its civic functions, it’s also where the dinners honoring the Nobel Laureates are held each December. Here’s the building, which is gorgeously festooned inside with murals and mosaics:

Building

If you were at the Nobel dinner, which is attended by the Swedish royal family and assorted VIPs, as well as the Laureates, you’d have a place setting that looks like this (alert: vino in store!):

dishes

Here’s some information about the dinner on a sign next to the table, which is permanently on display in the Hall:

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nb: The sign above notes that 1353 people were served, which works out to a measly 0.64 bottles of wine per person.  That’s stingy: I would expect more. For a such a dinner my formula would be 1 person = 1 bottle.

Mosaics and a mural from inside the City Hall:

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The Prizes themselves are awarded at a different place: the Stockholm Concert House (not my photo):

concert house

A boy can dream, can’t he?

These spiders are zombies

January 16, 2013 • 11:20 am

They’re paralyzed but still alive.

From Minibeast’s Wildlife Photos on Facebook, we have this amazing picture by Alan Henderson, which the caption explains:

Paralysed and waiting: We accidentally broke open a mud-dauber wasp nest under our house yesterday while moving some equipment. The mud cells were packed with paralysed jumping spiders of multiple species. The adult female wasp captures and paralyses the spiders and then packs them into the mud cells. She then lays an egg before closing the cell over with mud. The spiders are paralysed, but not killed so that they do not rot and the wasp larva can consume them over time. I rearranged the contents of one cell for this photograph. A wasp larva is in the centre in the process of consuming a spider.

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A somewhat sketchy Wikipedia article reports describes these lovely, thin-waisted wasps:

Adults of both sexes frequently drink flower nectar, but they stock their nests with spiders, which serve as food for their offspring. Like connoisseurs, they prefer particular kinds of spiders, and particular sizes of spiders for their larders. Instead of stocking a nest cell with one or two large spiders, mud daubers cram as many as two dozen small spiders into a nest cell. They appear to know exactly what they are hunting for, and where to find it.

Black and yellow mud daubers primarily prey on relatively small, colorful spiders, such as crab spiders (and related groups), orb weavers and some jumping spiders. They usually find them in and around vegetation.

Blue mud daubers prefer immature black widow spiders and their relatives. They hunt them in dry areas, such as outbuildings, rocky areas and stone piles.

Pipe-organ mud daubers generally provision their nests with various kinds of orb weavers, but their diets includes other kinds of spiders, as well.

To capture a spider, the wasp grabs it and stings it into submission. The venom from the sting does not kill the spider, but paralyzes and preserves it so it can be transported and stored in the nest cell until consumed by the larva. A mud dauber usually lays its egg on the prey item and then seals it into the nest cell with a mud cap. It then builds another cell or nest. Missouri’s mud daubers generally have two generations per year. The young survive the winter inside the nest.

It also notes that mud daubers were responsible for at least one airplane crash.

Here’s a video of one species showing how the group got its name—they roll up balls of mud, carry them to their nest site, and then plaster the mud into a beautiful nest. They are skilled workmen—or, rather, workwomen! Quite an amazing behavior, and one coded, along with every other wasp-y behavior, within a brain the size of a pinhead!

h/t: Matthew Cobb, Alex Wild

Jared Diamond: religion is rationally irrational

January 16, 2013 • 8:03 am

Polymath Jared Diamond (he has three full careers as an evolutionary ecologist specializing in birds, as a membrane physiologist, and as a popular writer) has written a new piece in Salon about religion: “Jared Diamond: It’s irrational to be religious.” It’s an excerpt from his new book, The World Until Yesterday: What Can We Learn from Traditional Societies?, which I haven’t yet read, and his take is interesting.

Diamond is clearly an atheist, and regards religion as a superstition. But, taking a cue from Dan Dennett, he asks why religious beliefs take the particular form that they do; that is, why do people as groups adhere to such palpably foolish beliefs? (Indeed, from Tertullian to Kierkegaard, the faithful have made a virtue of necessity, saying that one believes in things precisely because they are absurd! And yes, I know that interpretation of Tertullian is in dispute.)

At any rate, Diamond asks why such belief in absurdity, and his answer (one suggested by others as well) is that it’s a way of bonding through group solidarity, something I hadn’t thought about:

The more of one’s life is wrapped up with one’s group, the more crucial it is to be able to identify group members correctly and not to be deceived by someone who seeks temporary advantage by claiming to share your ideals but who really doesn’t. If that man carrying a Boston Red Sox banner, whom you had accepted as a fellow Red Sox fan, suddenly cheers when the New York Yankees hit a home run, you’ll find it humiliating but not life-threatening. But if he’s a soldier next to you in the front line and he drops his gun (or turns it on you) when the enemy attacks, your misreading of him may cost you your life.

That’s why religious affiliation involves so many overt displays to demonstrate the sincerity of your commitment: sacrifices of time and resources, enduring of hardships, and other costly displays that I’ll discuss later. One such display might be to espouse some irrational belief that contradicts the evidence of our senses, and that people outside our religion would never believe. If you claim that the founder of your church had been conceived by normal sexual intercourse between his mother and father, anyone else would believe that too, and you’ve done nothing to demonstrate your commitment to your church. But if you insist, despite all evidence to the contrary, that he was born of a virgin birth, and nobody has been able to shake you of that irrational belief after many decades of your life, then your fellow believers will feel much more confident that you’ll persist in your belief and can be trusted not to abandon your group.

I’d add here that, if you have a non-divine and purely functionalist origin of religion, you are better at demonstrating your sincerity if you really have that sincerity: that is, such displays won’t bond you to your group unless you believe that others believe them, and you believe them as well.  There’s no genuine bonding, for instance, if you take a sacrament purely to demonstrate solidarity. (Of course, this is precisely what happens in Scandinavia, where religious ritual is just that—ritual that doesn’t denote belief. But that isn’t the way Christianity originated.)

Diamond goes on to show, though, that there’s a limit on this rational irrationality:

Nevertheless, it’s not the case that there are no limits to what can be accepted as a religious supernatural belief. Scott Atran and Pascal Boyer have independently pointed out that actual religious superstitions over the whole world constitute a narrow subset of all the arbitrary random superstitions that one could theoretically invent. To quote Pascal Boyer, there is no religion proclaiming anything like the following tenet: “There is only one God! He is omnipotent. But he exists only on Wednesdays.” Instead, the religious supernatural beings in which we believe are surprisingly similar to humans, animals, or other natural objects, except for having superior powers. . . Hence it doesn’t surprise me that gods in many religions are pictured as smiting evil-doers, but that no religion holds out the dream of existing just on Wednesdays. Thus, religious supernatural beliefs are irrational, but emotionally plausible and satisfying. That’s why they’re so believable, despite at the same time being rationally implausible.

That sounds good, but it seems to me that some religions do come close to “Wednesdayism.” One of them is Scientology.  I don’t see Xenu and thetans as emotionally plausible and satisfying. But of course Scientologists don’t learn that stuff until they’ve already invested thousands of dollars satisfying their emotional needs with the E-meter.

Lame creationist/evolutionist debate at the BBC

January 16, 2013 • 6:09 am

Four days ago the BBC “Religion and Ethics” site posted a written debate on evolution between a Muslim and a Christian.  Unexpectedly, the evolution side was argued by the Muslim, Inayat Bunglawala (media secretary of the Muslim Council of Britain), while the wrong side was represented by the Christian: young-earth creationist Greg Haslam, senior pastor of the Westminster Chapel in London. The BBC describes Bunlawala as “a strong believer in the evolution of man in line with accepted scientific theory”; Haslam as “an avowed creationist who believes the world was created by God in six days between six to 10,000 years ago.” (I didn’t think there were any YECs left in England!)

The debate is predictable—if anything, even lamer than the average of the genre. The sides don’t engage, and of course none of these debates ever arrive at any common ground. Nor do they change minds. There are just a few bits to highlight:

Greg: Creationists are not enemies of true science and should never be afraid of the true facts, for “all truth is God’s truth”. Checking false claims, however, is mandatory.

Often, fictional stories are told about origins by scientists similar to Rudyard Kipling’s Just So Stories, like “How the Elephant Got its Trunk”. But no one was there to see these events or God’s creation as they unfolded – let alone the alleged 14.5 billion years old “Big Bang” and 4.5 billion years ago earth formation.

Humility is therefore required, not hubris. Long ages are assumed because with evolutionists time is the hero of the plot. Anything can happen given enough time. But can it produce complex order and information if the universe is blind, purposeless – the result of an explosion, random, chaotic and undirected?

Creationists are not enemies of true science? Doesn’t it give them pause that their doctrines are rejected by 99% of real working scientists?

The trope that “we weren’t there to see it” is, of course, completely dumb.  How does Greg know that Henry VIII or Julius Caesar existed? Was he there to see them? We know evolution is true in the same way we know Henry VIII lived: we have a checkable historical record of their existence.

Finally, when you see a call for “humility,” it’s either by a religious person or an accommodationist like Paul Davies (more 0n him later).  Scientists don’t need to remind themselves to be humble because it’s built into our discipline. There’s always a little voice whispering in our ear, “But remember, you might be wrong.”

The call for humility is really a cry of desperation by the faithful to scientists, and it means, “Hey, you’ve accomplished so much more than we have. Can’t you tone it down a bit?”

Greg: But, Inayat, evolutionary science asserts that things made themselves!

The first great problem then, is where did the universe itself come from? Where did all the “raw material” for evolution originate? It is a proven axiom of science that “nothing comes from nothing”. For every effect you require an efficient cause. The materialist’s explanation is no explanation at all. It is simply an assumption, and a wild one at that.

Well, Greg, where did God come from? He is something, too, so did he come from nothing? It is very strange that theologians think that the question of God’s origin is a stupid one: they say he was always there! But what did he do before he made the universe, then—sit around twiddling his apophatic thumbs for eternity? And if God could always exist, so could some form of a universe or multiverse.

Inayat’s response, however, leaves something to be desired. He not only doesn’t raise the criticisms I just mentioned, but talks about steam engines and agency, muddling the whole debate. He also sucks up to religion:

Inayat: We need to distinguish between an agent and a cause. Let’s take Robert Asher’s example of a steam engine. Science helps explain how a steam engine works i.e. the process by which its action is caused: heated water boils into steam which rises and powers the rotation of a turbine which then spins the wheels of the steam train etc.

Note that it is also valid to say that Thomas Savery designed the steam engine (and James Watt later improved upon it). However, this is a different kind of explanation: it is one of agency, not cause. Just because science helps to reveal the naturalistic cause behind the function of the steam engine, it does not mean it denies the agency of Savery and Watt.

Similarly, Darwin’s theory of evolution by means of natural selection is an immensely compelling explanation for the mechanism of how different species have come about. It does not deny an agent.

Of course it denies an agent, if by “denying” you mean “such an agent is not part of the process, and is explicitly posited to have no effect on it.”  Evolution is a materialistic, naturalistic, and unguided process, regardless of what the National Center for Science Education wants to tell the faithful. It does not need the agency of Savery and Watt. Of course science can’t tell us absolutely where or not there’s some kind of god (particularly a do-nothing deistic one) but what it does posit is that there’s no evidence such a God affected evolution. (Let me add quickly here that science has given us evidence against a theistic god, in the form of the existence of gratuitious evil and the absence of evidence for the Abrahamic God, which is evidence of absence.)

Here Inayat is playing to the crowd, trying to have his Darwin and Allah, too.

Greg then goes on to blame Hitler, Stalin, Atheism, Naturalism, and all the bad “isms” on Darwin. Inayat replies, among other things, that “Blaming Darwin’s theory for all sorts of evil is like blaming the printing press for Hitler’s Mein Kampf.”  Well, not exactly: the printing press was the means by which Mein Kampf was made into palpable books.  Evolution was not the vehicle for promulgating Communism or Nazism.

Finally, Greg make a Big Fail with respect to physics:

Greg: Let’s talk about one abused idea – the Big Bang, a concept which seeks to explain the origin of the universe, claiming that billions of years ago all the matter and energy in the universe was condensed into a particle no bigger than a pin-head.

No one knows where it came from, but its heat and density were unimaginably great. Then for some unknown reason it exploded, then expanded and cooled so that helium and hydrogen gas could be formed. Our solar system appeared and the rest is palaeontology.

Dead things don’t re-create and re-order themselves to become living entities again.

Every explosion we’ve ever observed results in chaos, never order. Why would physical laws break down for the formation of the universe in the “Big Bang” and its aftermath? No scientist can yet tell us.

The man needs to read up on the Big Bang and abiogenesis.

I’m curious why the BBC even decided to present this “debate”. It gives, by virtue of publication alone, unwarranted credibility to creationism and to Haslam.  There is no real debate in the scientific community over evolution, and putting this “debate” on the BBC site isn’t going to change the minds of creationists. If the BBC wants to show people the truth of evolution, I’ll be glad to write them a summary of the evidence.  And that doesn’t need a rebuttal, any more than does the assertion that the earth is round. Further, I won’t claim that “agency” could be involved in evolution.

Oh, and there’s a typo that wasn’t corrected:

Michael Denton wrote that book [Evolution: A Theory in Crisis] back in 1985. It’s arguments have not found wide support amongst scientists.

“It’s”? Come on, BBC.