Science class in Louisiana

November 20, 2012 • 10:46 pm

by Greg Mayer

Andrew Kaczynski at Buzzfeed notes an AP story about how publicly-supported private schools in Louisiana are not required by state officials to meet state curriculum standards, and combines this with a sample of science textbook pages from (I’m not making this up) BJU Press, which offers “Christ-centered resources for education, edification, and evangelization”. An example:

A sample science textbook page.

It’s not clear from his piece, however, exactly what schools are using these materials. However, even if these schools were held to state standards, that wouldn’t be saying much in Louisiana, which passed its infamous, creationist Louisiana Science Education Act in 2008 (noted earlier by Jerry here at WEIT). A recent (2012) report on science education standards (also noted earlier by Jerry here at WEIT) sums up Louisiana’s condition:

The Louisiana science standards are reasonably challenging and comprehensive, but they suffer from a devastating flaw: Thanks to the state’s 2008 Science Education Act, which promotes creationism instead of science, the standards (especially for biology and life science) are haunted by anti-science influences that threaten biology education in the state.

(The report is especially damning because it comes from an otherwise conservative, anti-public school think tank.)

Efforts to repeal the law were begun almost immediately by Louisiana students and scientists, and have garnered an endorsement from 75 Nobelists. For the latest on the situation in Louisiana, follow the efforts of student Zack Kopplin at Repealing the Louisiana Science Education Act, and the work of the Louisiana Coalition for Science.

How the Beetle Got His Handles

November 20, 2012 • 3:02 am

By Rudyard Kipling*

Hear, attend and listen, O my Best Beloved, for this story ­– a Most New and Most Wonderful Story – tells of the most magnificent power of Natural Selection.

Long ago, in the High and Far-off Times, the Beetle lived near the Nest of the Termites, in the shadow of the Camphor-Tree. This was not a happy arrangement, as the Termites, O Best Beloved, with their High Falutin’ ways and most strong Sense of Entitlement even though they are nothing more than clever cockroaches, are the most biteful and fractious of creatures, happy to snip and snap at any passing Beetle, or indeed any animal that crosses their path.

But although the Termites would snip and snap at the Beetle whenever they could, he would not move his home from near their nest under the Camphor-Tree, for from the nest floated the most glorious scents, the smell of food from far-away fields – pomegranates and gingerplants, roses and cannas, loquats and lillies. And the Beetle, with his ’satiable greed, would sit on a small hillock nearby and twitch his most twiggly-twirly-wirly antennae and imagine feasting on the rich store deep within the termite nest.

Every time the Beetle asked the Termites to share their wondrous storehouse, they would snip and snap at him and grab his twiggly-twirly-wirly antennae and pull and pull and pull and then spank him hard until he ran away. Decidedly, O Best Beloved, the Termites are the most selfish and unsociable and grumpy of animals.

One day, after being spanked particularly hard by a most particularly selfish and unsociable and grumpy group of termites, the Beetle noticed a most Strange Smell coming from his feet. He no longer smelt of Beetle, but instead carried the most delicious odours of the termite nest – the smells of pomegranates and gingerplants, roses and cannas, loquats and lillies, which had rubbed off onto him while he was being spanked and having his twiggly-twirly-wirly antennae and pulled and pulled and pulled.

And the next time the Beetle met the Termites, they just let him pass by and walk deep into their storehouses, for he smelt just like One of Them. And that, O Best Beloved, is how the Beetle got the smell of the Termite and was able to feast on the Termites’ storehouse.

But the Beetle was a lazy animal who soon began to get Ideas Above his Station, and while he was living and feast on the storehouses of the grumpy and bitey Termites, he decided that no only should the Termites provide him with pomegranates and gingerplants, roses and cannas, loquats and lillies, they should also carry him about. So he held his breath so hard that he thought he would Burst and pushed and pushed and pushed until two small handles appeared on his back, Most Golden like the morning sun (you can see this in the First Picture).

And the next time the Beetle met a Termite, he pushed the handles towards the Termite (you can see this in the Second Picture), which most obligingly picked up the Beetle and carried him over to the pomegranates and gingerplants, thinking it was a Baby Termite that was most ’mazingly suitably provided with handles, just right for its bitey and snappy mandibles (you can see this in the Third Picture).

And that, O Best Beloved, is how the Beetle got his Handles.

THIS, O Best Beloved, is a picture of the Beetle with his Most Golden handles, which he squeezed out of his back by holding his breath so hard that he thought he would Burst and pushing and pushing and pushing. I have numbered the pictures because that is what Scientists do, and on Picture Number 2 I have put a white arrow to show you where the handles are, in case you can’t quite make them out. You might think they don’t look much like handles, but if you were a Termite you would be Most Happy to find something that fitted so nicely to your bitey and snappy mandibles. You can see this in the Third Picture.
THIS, O Best Beloved, is a Tiny Picture of the Beetle rolling up and showing a Termite his Most Shiny golden handles, which he had squeezed out by holding his breath so hard he thought the would burst.
THIS is a picture of a biteful and fractious Termite picking up the Beetle by his Most Golden handles and taking him over to a pile of pomegranates and gingerplants, roses and cannas, loquats and lillies. I haven’t been able to show all the foodstore as there isn’t enough space, but you can imagine it all, just off to the left. And of course, O Best Beloved, I had to draw it all in the light, so that you could see what was happening, although all this would happen deep in the dark in the shadow of the roots of the great Camphor-Tree where there is no light, only smell and touch.

* As told to Matthew Cobb

Maruyama, M. 2012. A new genus and species of flightless, microphthalmic Corythoderini (Coleoptera: Scarabaeidae: Aphodiinae) from Cambodia, associated with Macrotermes termites. Zootaxa 3555:83-88.

h/t @james_gilbert and @TheAtavism and Rudyard Kipling

Fudz yesterday

November 20, 2012 • 1:20 am

Yesterday I spent most of the day working in the library at Oxford University Press’s (OUP) venerable headquarters (they’re the UK publishers of WEIT). It’s the world’s largest university press, one of the oldest (founded in the early 1600s), and now located in a huge old building on Walton Street that was finished in 1825. It’s a lovely place, with a central garden and nice facilities.

Here’s the main entrance on Walton Street; the person standing in the arch is my friend and editor, Latha Menon, renowed for her work in trade science books. She’s a wonderful editor, as many of her authors know, and is also in charge of their best-selling science book, The Selfish Gene (did you know that was an OUP book?)

But after a few hours of “labour,” it was time for lunch, and fortunately OUP is within easy walking distance of three gerat pubs: the Lamb and Flag, the Eagle and Child and the Royal Oak. Of these, the Eagle and Child is most famous, for it was where the “Inklings“—the writers’ group that included C.S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien—used to meet, drink, and discuss their work.

Over the years I’ve gone to both the Lamb and Flag and Eagle and Child many times, but Latha suggested that we repair to the Royal Oak, only half a block north of the others.  It turned out to be a good choice, for both the ales and food were better than those two other vaunted pubs, which are jammed with tourists at lunchtime.  The Royal Oak, while just as atmospheric as the others, had plenty of room in its warren of small rooms.

This is what you want to see when you enter a pub: a decent array of cask ales with hand pumps.  After due discussion with the bartender, and sampling a couple (they’ll give you a taste if you’re unsure), I decided on Sharp’s Doom Bar, as I wanted a “session pint” (something good that you can drink several of without bloating) that was delicious but not too hoppy—something like my favorite pint, Taylor’s Landlord. (Americans think that a microwbrew is not “real” unless it’s reeking with hops, and we tend to overhop our hand-crafted ales.)

Upon discussion with the woman dispensing beer, I was heartened: I asked her if they ever got Landlord, and she gave me a long spiel about how they got it occasionally, but didn’t like to keep it because they had a small cellar and they had to let the beer settle for three days after the cask arrived so it could be served in good condition. That let me know that they were serious about their ale, and they were.  The ales were superb, and I chose Sharp’s Doom Bar bitter: a fine pint. It was delicious, of medium body, well-kept, and lovely.  Look at this beautiful amber drink!:

England’s greatest glory

The food was equally good: for £8.95 you could choose two courses, either a starter and a “main”, or a main and dessert. I had the former. opting for Caesar salad and sausage and mash. One needs substantial British food to go with a good pint, and it was cold outside.

The Caesar salad was great: almost a meal in itself.  While I eschewed the malodorous anchovies, it was also full of hunks of chicken and shavings of real Parmesan cheese:

The sausage and mash was also great: three plump and savory sausages resting on a bed of real mashed potatoes, dressed with lashings of gravy. It was a LOT of food, and oy, was I full afterwards.

So, if you make your way to Oggsford, I would recommend both the Royal Oak and the Turf Tavern as your pubs of choice, for both have really good food and a good selection of well-kept ales.  (The Turf is also known for its variety of ales and cask ciders; they usually have at least a dozen on tap.)

I had dinner as the guest of Professor Dawkins at New College, and it was great fun. We sat at the High Table, with Richard wearing the obligatory gown for Fellows, and had a nice meal with both red and white wine (begun, by custom, with grace in Latin).  I did not take any pictures, as that wouldn’t have been seemly, but Richard was in fine nick and is working on an autobiography.

Marco Rubio: not a scientist

November 19, 2012 • 9:00 pm

by Greg Mayer

In an apparent effort to keep up with Rep. Paul Broun (R-Georgia), Sen. Marco Rubio (R-Florida), who is being touted as a presidential candidate, produced this gem of reasoning in an interview with GQ:

I’m not a scientist, man. I can tell you what recorded history says, I can tell you what the Bible says, but I think that’s a dispute amongst theologians and I think it has nothing to do with the gross domestic product or economic growth of the United States. I think the age of the universe has zero to do with how our economy is going to grow. I’m not a scientist. I don’t think I’m qualified to answer a question like that. At the end of the day, I think there are multiple theories out there on how the universe was created and I think this is a country where people should have the opportunity to teach them all. I think parents should be able to teach their kids what their faith says, what science says. Whether the Earth was created in 7 days, or 7 actual eras, I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to answer that. It’s one of the great mysteries.

Andrew Sullivan responds:

No, we have answered that. The earth was not created 6,000 years ago in seven days. Period. Anyone who says anything else as a factual matter is nuts.

Rubio’s waffling was immediately noticed, and even arch religious conservative Ross Douthat, of all people, is mildly critical. Paul Krugman takes up Rubio’s claim that science doesn’t matter:

when Rubio says that the question of the Earth’s age “has zero to do with how our economy is going to grow”, he’s dead wrong. For one thing, science and technology education has a lot to do with our future productivity — and how are you going to have effective science education if schools have to give equal time to the views of fundamentalist Christians?

Importantly, Krugman notes that the underlying  problem is epistemological:

More broadly, the attitude that discounts any amount of evidence — and boy, do we have lots of evidence on the age of the planet! — if it conflicts with prejudices is not an attitude consistent with effective policy. If you’re going to ignore what geologists say if you don’t like its implications, what are the chances that you’ll take sensible advice on monetary and fiscal policy?… [T]he modern GOP [is] fundamentally hostile to the very idea of objective inquiry.

Rubio is either ignorant, lying to prevent alienating his “base”, or incapable of rational inquiry. But whether it’s ignorance, mendacity, or stupidity, surely this should disqualify this man from being put in charge of anything, let alone the United States.

Update. Alex Knapp at Forbes has a great post on Rubio, “Why Marco Rubio Needs To Know That The Earth Is Billions Of Years Old”, in which he details some of the practical consequences of the science of the age of the Earth being all wrong. Do read the whole piece. Money quote:

The bottom line is that this economy, at its root, is built on  a web of scientific knowledge from physics to chemistry to biology. It’s impossible to just cherry pick out parts we don’t like. If the Earth is 9,000 years old, then virtually the entire construct of modern science is simply wrong. Not only that, most of the technology that we rely on most likely wouldn’t work – as they’re dependent on science that operates on the same physical laws that demonstrate the age of the universe.

h/t Andrew Sullivan

The return of The Infinite Monkey Cage

November 19, 2012 • 2:18 pm

by Matthew Cobb

Given that Jerry’s in the UK at the moment, it’s appropriate that we should celebrate the return of one of the UK’s best science products, Radio 4’s The Infinite Monkey Cage. This is a 30 minute science comedy programme presented by comedian Robin Ince and my University of Manchester colleague Professor Brian Cox, a particle physicist (but don’t hold that against him).

The first episode, which appeared earlier today, looks at space exploration and has as its guests Sir Patrick Stewart (aka Captain Jean-Luc Picard, but with his genuine Yorkshire accent), former quantum physicist (and now actor) Ben Miller, and Professor of Planetary Sciences at the Open University, Monica Grady.

Image for Space: The Final Frontier

You can ALL listen to this, wherever you are in the world, on the BBC’s iPlayer here. (I don’t know why the BBC allows anyone anywhere to listen to the radio, but doesn’t let people watch TV on YouTube (see the WEIT discussion here). Stewart is asked what his favourite alien was – answers include a grain of rice and an oil slick…

Next week (I think) is about weird science, and includes Marc Abrams of Ignobel Prizes fame, comedian Katy Brand, and one of Brian Cox’s colleagues from the University of Manchester whose name escapes me…

Two kittehs

November 19, 2012 • 9:02 am

If you’re of a certain age, you’ll remember that during the Cultural Revolution in China, those guilty of “wrong thought or actions” were forced to wear signs around their necks confessing their “crimes.” This was often enforced by the Red Guards and accompanied by beatings or, sometimes, executions.  So it may be a bit macabre to post this LOLcat, but I’ll do it anyway:

And you can haz this one, too:

BBC creates new YouTube channel on nature shows

November 19, 2012 • 7:02 am

This should help alleviate the problem of BBC nature shows not being available in the U.S., or sometimes in the UK.  According to PuffHo:

The BBC has launched a YouTube only ‘channel’ which will feature new nature shows unavailable anywhere else.

‘Earth Unplugged’ will host seven new nature programmes a week.

BBC Worldwide will not make the shows available on iPlayer, and other YouTube channels could be set to follow its lead.

But this is not propitious, for it augurs a bunch of “science lite” stuff:

BBC Earth Productions created the channel and its content, which will include a show called Amazing Animal Babies, Zoo La La (about “extraordinary animal behaviour”), Deadliest (“the ultimate showdowns from the planet’s deadliest animals”) and a new version of Walking With Dinosaurs.

Amanda Hill, Managing Director for BBC Earth at BBC Worldwide said in a statement:

“With Earth Unplugged we’re seeking to connect a new audience with the world around them. YouTube offers a fantastic opportunity to reach people and grab their attention with innovative nature content that will captivate and inspire.”

Well, what they mean is stuff that is heavy on drama and thinnish on science. I’ve had a quick look at the channels, and it’s the science equivalent of the U.S.’s drama-oriented “History Channel” on television. There’s “Bugface,” and “Deadliest Showdowns,” and all are very short: attention-grabbers for Generation Y, which lacks the ability to read an entire book or watch a video that lasts longer than 5 minutes.

Still, some science is better than no science, and even I can’t resist watching videos like “Peregrine vs. pigeon,” from the “Deadliest Showdowns” channel (note: artistic license taken with the video):

Or “Baby cheetahs learn to hunt” from the “Amazing Animal Babies” channel:

These do violate Pinker’s Law of Science Education, though, which is “Do not condescend to your readers” (viewers in this case).