Why Evolution is True is a blog written by Jerry Coyne, centered on evolution and biology but also dealing with diverse topics like politics, culture, and cats.
I’m in the Miami airport, and haven’t yet watched this Battle of the Titans (well, one titan and a schlemiel), but I wanted to put up the URL of the Dembski-Hitchens debate last Thursday. All the parts are here: there are three, and they total about 2 hours and 15 minutes. So make some popcorn, sit back, and watch “Does a good God exist?” And feel free to give your impressions here. I’ll share mine when I watch it.
h/t: Diane G.
The National Center for Science Education (NCSE) and its executive director Eugenie Scott have some great achievements under their belts, especially preventing the incursion of creationism into American public schools. Nevertheless, they have a distressing habit of coddling religion, which they think—mistakenly in my view—helps them further their goals.
This accommodationism is most annoying when the NCSE assumes its science-has-its-limits stance, a stance designed to show that beyond those borders lies the proper and goodly realm of religion. Yes, of course science has some limits—it can’t (yet) explain why I love the paintings of Kandinsky and others find them abstract and boring. But how on earth do these “limits” somehow justify belief in the palpable nonsense of faith?
Here’s a talk that Eugenie Scott gave at a panel discussion at October’s Secular Humanism conference. It purveys the usual NCSE party line: that science deals only with methodological and not philosophical naturalism (I wonder what NCSE director Barbara Forrest thinks about that), and that science is not a world view but a method (I’d argue that rationalism, which can be seen as science broadly construed, is a world view).
Anyway, all this is familiar. But what is most disturbing is Scott’s almost joyful emphasis on science’s limits. If you want to skip all the “methodological naturalism only” and “science can’t test the supernatural” cant, just start at 18:59 to watch the last seven minutes.
I find Scott’s anecdote about her post-birth bonding with her newborn daughter due to “perinatal hormones” (start at 20:20) extremely strange. She implies that while the physiology that creates those feelings is scientifically tractable, science is impotent at explaining the meaning of that experience: Scott says she felt an “indescribable surge of love, protectiveness, care, and I bonded like iron to that helpless little baby.” Isn’t the whole point of that evolved physiology to promote those “meaningful” feelings? And isn’t it likely that some day we will understand precisely how those hormones act on our brain to create those emotions we find so “meaningful”?
I suspect Sam Harris would have a few words to say about this, and about the supposed impotence of science before “meaning.”
Let’s not kid ourselves: the implicit point of Scott’s peroration is that because science can’t explain meanings, therefore religion can, and hence is not to be criticized. Talk about belief in belief! Well, it’s not the NCSE’s job to criticize religion, but it sees part of its job as to coddle it. And because of that, I feel compelled to call them out.
And here’s a distinction without a difference (22:39):
The conflict is between secular philosophies like humanism and supernaturalism, not between supernaturalism and science.
Way to finesse the conflict between science and religion: just subsume science under “secularist philosophy”!
Finally, Scott adopts a tactic beloved of creationists: showing that science is fallible because some scientists are immoral (23:40):
If you think science is a world view, read that article a couple of days ago—I guess yesterday—in the New York Times about Chinese scientists. Scientists are supposed to be these honest—no! Read about this: there are thousands of papers having to be withdrawn because of rampant stealing of data, rampant plagiarism, and so forth. Science is not a world view. It’s a way of understanding the natural world.
This tale may say something about scientists—that they are human, and sometimes fallible or mendacious—but it says precious little about science as a world view. It’s just meant to tarnish the lustre of science, and thereby burnish the image of faith.
I’m not much of a big-scenery photographer; if you want a panoramic view of the remarkable Spanish colonial town of Cartagena, Google images has photos much better than mine. But here are a few vignettes.
One—especially one who, like me, travels on his stomach—could easily suppose that the main industry of Cartagena is snacking and selling snacks to others. The streets are filled with life, and most of that life seems to be eating or purveying food. In the background is always raucous music. It’s paradise.
Forget the overpriced haunts of the Caribbean; this is a real multicultural town, with mestizos, blacks, and Hispanics all stewed together, and a merciful dearth of tourists. It’s hot and humid and loud and beautiful; a UNESCO World Heritage City. If someone asked me where to vacation in the Caribbean, I’d immediately tell them, “Cartagena—but don’t tell anyone else.” I haz a sadz because I’m leaving this morning.
I spent most of my time in the old walled city, though there are plenty of modern parts of Cartagena. This is the old town from afar, with a few newer buildings in the foreground (building more of these is now forbidden):
The old Spanish fort, Castillo de San Filipe de Barajas (begun 1657), the greatest fortress ever built in any Spanish colony:
In today’s New York Times is a petulant letter from one John Daniel, taking issue with some remarks in my recent NYT review of Kevin Kelly’s book, What Technology Wants.
I found Kelly’s book flawed in its comparison of biological with technological evolution, but did in general agree with his thesis that the expansion of technology has been a pretty unalloyed good, since it gives people the maximal opportunity to fulfill their potential. Note, though, that this is not my thesis, but Kelly’s. And of course lots of technology doesn’t serve that purpose. Mr. Daniel, however, would have us return to the halcyon days before antibiotics and modern medicine, when most people were ineluctably stuck in their class—and women were always in the second class—and when infant mortality was much higher.
To the Editor:
Jerry A. Coyne, in his review of Kevin Kelly’s “What Technology Wants” (“Better All the Time,” Nov. 7), too hastily endorses Kelly’s notion that unlimited choice is a pure good. Of the 48,000 supermarket food items he cites, many are insubstantial or outright harmful, and many of the rest are redundant. How many brands of linguine do we need, and if there were none, would spaghetti do? The colonial pantry, containing vastly fewer items, probably held superior nutritional value and no lack of flavor.
When Coyne asserts that the choices technology makes possible enhance “our potential for self-realization,” does he mean that we can fulfill ourselves through TV, Twitter and video games? By purchasing a new car? I’ve seen more happiness in the hovels and muddy streets of Mexican villages than in the affluent suburbs of America. The problem with ever-expanding technological variety is that it spawns ever-expanding desires, a condition unknown to our hunter-gatherer ancestors, with their three-hour workdays.
Many helpful goods have come of our technological genius, and for those I am grateful, but paeans to material progress seem never to acknowledge its shadowy side. What Coyne calls self-realization looks a lot like obsession and addiction, or at least like perpetual distraction. Henry David Thoreau, content with his limited 19th-century choices, got it right: “Our inventions are wont to be pretty toys, which distract our attention from serious things. They are but improved means to an unimproved end.”
JOHN DANIEL
Elmira, Ore.
Of course I didn’t endorse every technological innovation as an unalloyed good, or a tool for self-realization. Had Daniel read Kelly’s book, he would have seen that Kelly indeed points out the “darker side” of technological advance. But who among us would want to return to, say, 1930, when the smallest infection could kill us?
And the statement, “I’ve seen more happiness in the hovels and muddy streets of Mexican villages than in the affluent suburbs of America,” seems palpable and romanticized nonsense. Yes, some individuals in those hovels may be happer than some dour denizens of American suburbs, and perhaps sociological surveys would show such a parity. But would those people stay in their hovels if they were offered a swap? I doubt it.
There is a reason why people are abandoning villages throughout the world and swelling the populations of cities, and why people are flocking from poorer countries to richer ones—and it has something to do with fulfillment, choice, and technology. In this I’m with Kelly.
h/t: Miranda Hale
A number of delightful Colombian friends took me to the Spanish fort today (photos tomorrow) and then to what Hitch would call “an estimable luncheon” at the Naval Club.
Jugo: watermelon slurry. What a delicious drink!
First course: crab soup, Caribbean style, with spices and (I think) a bit of sherry:
Main course: filet of sea bass with garlic sauce, patatas fritas and, of course, the ubiquitous patacones:
Finally, my stay in this wonderful town would have been much poorer without the hospitality and ministrations of my friends; from left to right they are Ivonne Corea, Hortencia Barrios, Silvia Jiménez, and Luis Caraballo (who also dined with me yesterday). Muchas gracias, amigos.
This is probably some very common bird that even an ornithological moron might know, but I’m one of those and don’t recognize it. I photographed it along the shore in Cartagena.
There’s no prize except my warm approbation. I have other pictures of stuffed birds from the collection at the Universidad de los Andes, and will be posting them shortly, including a remarkable hummingbird.
Cartagena has its own gold museum—smaller than that of Bogotá, to be sure, but with equally exquisite objects. Most of them come from the Zenu culture of the Caribbean plains beginning about 800-500 A.D. Many of these are made by the lost wax process, which is a giant pain. I’ll show you some of the nicest things, concentrating (as usual) on the fauna. As always, click on the photos to enlarge them.
First, some birds:
An owl:
A jaguar:
Unknown animal (again, your guess is as good as mine):
Another unknown animal, perhaps a jaguar:
Two unknown animals; the one on the left may be another jaguar:
Assorted animals:
A face:
Two figures with filigree:
And, finally, two lost-wax figures:
There’s only one kitteh today, but it’s an agile one:
The photo and commentary come from Robert L. Peters:
OFF BELAY
Winnipeg, Canada
Since I quite like both cats and climbing, re-posting this image (original source unknown) was a natural… as is this bouldering kitty. Note the fine technique—moving from a layback along the long vertical arête… to an under-cling… to delicate face moves. As with most climbing, however, the answer to the question “why” remains unclear…
These aren’t kittehs, but the photos are stunning. Also from Robert L. Peters come these photos of alpine ibex (Capra ibex), the wild goat of the Alps. Their climbing abilities are legendary.
“The ibex of Northern Italy don’t need to worry about equipment malfunctions, difficult-to-obtain life insurance, or their peers calling them foolhardy. They just do what they do, without ropes or inhibitions…” (from a link in today’s Alpine Club of Canada e-letter).
I’ve long marveled at the genetically hard-wired abilities of sheep and goats when it comes to rock climbing (and I’ve posted on this before, e.g. hereand here). Don’t underestimate the sure-footedness, balance, and sheer gumption of the mystical Ibex either (stambecco in Italian, Steinbock in German). These pictures speak for themselves (yes, the tiny specs in the lower photo are what you think)…
According to Rural Ramblings, which has additional photos, these animals are browsing on moss and lichen on the face of the Cingino dam in Italy, and licking salt off the wall:
The Alpine Ibex was long regarded as a mystical animal and almost all of body parts were sought after as ingredients for magical potions and to cure various illnesses. As a result, they were almost extinct because of very extensive hunting. However, in the 1850s King Emmanuel II of Italy created a game preserve in the Italian Alps for the Ibex. Today, about 4,000 Alpine Ibex roam the area of the king’s preserve, now the Gran Paradiso National Park.
n.b. to skeptics: These pictures are not Photoshopped. Here’s a movie of the ibexes browsing on the dam:
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And thanks to Billy, who in the comments below added this amazing video of rock-climbing baboons:
