Holiday snaps, Boston

March 15, 2014 • 12:44 pm

I usually put up one big post at the end of a trip, recounting my travels and showing the high spots, including noms.  But I often intend to add further posts, but never get around to it because of the press of time. (I still have yet to post my photos from Auschwitz, and that was last fall).  But here is the second—and penultimate—batch of pictures from my trip to Boston and Cambridge.

An afternoon’s trip to Concord and Lexington yielded a bunch of historical stuff. Here, for example, is Ralph Waldo Emerson’s home:

Emerson home

And the Alcott family home, which of course housed Louisa May Alcott (1832-1888), author of Little Women. I never read the book, but it seems that every other American has. Several women have told me that the scene in which Beth dies always brings them to tears.

Alcott home

Below is the “Old Manse” in Concord.  It was built in 1770 by Reverend William Emerson, the father of author and Transcendentalist Ralph Waldo Emerson, and was later rented by Nathaniel Hawthorne. It’s only a few hundred yards from The Old North Bridge (see below), where the most important initial battle of the Revolutionary War took place in 1775—a battle witnessed by Rev. Emerson and his family.

Hawthorne and his wife lived there from 1840-1842, and Henry David Thoreau put in a vegetable garden for the couple. The house features in several of Hawthorne’s stories. 

Old Manse

The rude bridge that arched the flood”: the Old North Bridge in Concord, where the first important battle of the American Revolutionary War took place on April 19, 1775 (there was a skirmish earlier in the day in Lexington, but the bridge was where the first British troops were killed).  This is of course a reconstruction, but the appearance is accurate and it’s at the exact location:

Bridge

A monument erected in 1836 at the site, commemorating our brave resistance to “British aggression”:

Condord plaque

The famous “Minuteman” statue, commemorating the American farmers who put aside their ploughs and took up their guns to repel the British:

Minuteman statue

An artsy shot of ice below the bridge:

Ice

Finally, a visit to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Concord, where many of the authors I mentioned above are buried, with their graves close together on a hill called “Author’s Ridge”

Henry David Thoreau; the family plot and Henry’s small tombstone:

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Ralph Waldo Emerson:

Emerson

Emerson 2

Louisa May Alcott, also marked by a small stone in the Alcott family plot:

Alcott

Nathaniel Hawthorne (left) and  his wife Sophia:

Hawthorne

After a literary and historical visit in snowbound Lexington and Concord, what better treat than ice cream? (In Boston it’s consumed year round, regardless of weather.) And what better place to get ice cream than Christina’s Homemade Ice Cream in Inman Square, Cambridge? I will defend to the death my opinion that this shop has the best ice cream in the U.S., as well as the best flavor: burnt sugar, which tastes exactly like its name. It’s a revelation.

Below I am pointing to my favorite flavor, which I had in a cup alongside a scoop of ginger-molasses ice cream, a flavor that would be the best in any other shop but took a back seat to the transcendental burnt sugar.  For once I had a cup instead of a cone, for I heard the server tell someone else that you get more ice cream in a cup, and for the same price. I do love a good cake cone, but I love ice cream more.

Enlarge the photo see all the great flavors. I also love green tea, which you can get along with a scoop of azuki bean ice cream to make a Japanese melange:

Cristinas

Tomorrow: A visit to Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts.

Are atheists intellectual snobs?

March 15, 2014 • 8:51 am

If you want to see a gratuitous piece of accommodationism, one that manages to avoid every substantive issue that divides believer from nonbeliever, read a new piece in The Atlantic by associate editor Emma Green, “The intellectual snobbery of conspicuous atheism.” Its whole point is to bash atheists for being haughty and effete, buttressed by the confidence that we’re better than everyone else. In the process, Green argues that there is no culture war going on—at least not one between religionists and unbelievers—and that atheism isn’t making any headway  because the bulk of the world is still religious.  In truth, her piece is nothing but prejudice and unevidenced personal opinion, lacking any substantive arguments. She just doesn’t like atheists, ignores their arguments against God, and in the end adheres to the famous xkcd cartoon about “feeling superior to both.” In fact, it is Green who winds up looking like an intellectual snob.

Here are Green’s three claims, which she proffers while reviewing the book The Age of Atheists: How We Have Sought to Live Since the Death of God by Peter Watson (she gives a mixed review to the book but largely ignores it).

1. We’re snobs.  Here’s what Green says about that:

This [a quote from Adam Gopnik saying that unbelievers have a “monopoly on legitimate forms of knowledge”] is a perfect summary of the intellectual claim of those who set out to prove that God is dead and religion is false: Atheists have legitimate knowledge, and those who believe do not. This is the epistemological assumption looming in the so-called “culture war” between the caricatures of godless liberals and Bible-thumping conservatives in America: One group wields rational argumentation and intellectual history as an indictment of God, while the other looks to tradition and text as defenses against modernity’s encroachment on religious life.

Note how she characterizes the disagreement: one side has “rational argument and intellectual history” and the other has “tradition and text.” First of all, atheists have not only rational argument, but a lack of evidence for god, as well as good counterarguments against many conceptions of God (the argument for natural evil, for example, does not comport with the omnibenevolent, omniscient, and omnipotent Abrahamic god).  And who the hell cares about “intellectual history,” since we never use that as an argument against beliefs? For crying out loud, most of intellectual history is sodden with religious belief.  But note as well that instead of citing “superstition, revelation, and faith” as the weapons of religionists, she mentions “tradition and text,” which almost sounds respectable.  In fact, the war is between faith and superstition on one side and rationalism and evidence on the other. Period. “Tradition and text” are not substitutes for evidence.

But Green goes on:

. . . And this is where the intellectual snobbery comes in: Watson assumes that because a group of smart, respected, insightful people thought and felt their way out of believing in God, everyone else should, too. Because intellectual history trends toward non-belief, human history must, too.

This is problematic for several reasons. For one thing, it suggests that believers are inherently less thoughtful than non-believers. Watson tells stories of famous thinkers and artists who have struggled to reconcile themselves to a godless world. And these are helpful, in that they offer insight into how dynamic, creative people have tried to live. But that doesn’t mean the average believer’s search for meaning and understanding is any less rigorous or valuable—it just ends with a different conclusion: that God exists. Watson implies that full engagement with the project of being human in the modern world leads to atheism, and that’s just not true.

Ever ever there was a straw man, this is one. First of all, yes, many of us do believe that human history is trending toward nonbelief. All the data show that. And yes, most of us feel that the world would be better off without religion. But we have good reasons for that, including the lack of evidence for religion’s foundational beliefs (including the disparate beliefs of different faiths), and the numerous harms that religion continues to incite.

As for whether believers are “inherently less thoughtful than nonbelievers,” Green is conflating a difference of belief about God (with one side’s views based on evidence—or the lack thereof—and the other’s on faith), with a general pronouncement about intellectual superiority. And yes, the average believer’s search for meaning and understanding is surely less rigorous, for it rests not on going where the data take us, but on accepting as “data” only the things that support what you want to believe in the first place.  The average believer is afflicted with confirmation bias, and that is not a rational way to figure out how to live. Indeed, most people hold the beliefs they do not out of reason, but simply because they were brought up that way.

Green could in fact make the same argument for for Bigfoot or homeopathy, or ESP, or any common superstition: there are lots of believers there, too, and we must be intellectual snobs if we flatly reject their “search for meaning.” After all, those people are just as engaged “with the project of being human” (that’s a deepity) as we are.

It is not intellectual snobbery to think that you have the better argument because you have the better reasons and the better epistomology. But if you want to play hardball, note that there is a strong correlation between education and atheism: the more educated people get, the less they believe in God. That’s just a fact, and Green can make of it what she will. I will limit myself to saying that arguing our viewpoints, and giving reasons for our nonbelief while criticizing the pathetically weak arguments for God, does not make us snobs.

Green also characterizes our argument like this:

But vocal atheists reinforce this binary of Godly vs. godless, too—the argument is just not as obvious. Theirs is a subtle assertion: Believers aren’t educated or thoughtful enough to debunk God, and if they only knew more, rational evidence would surely offset faith.

No, what we think is that if people were more rational, and less wedded to faith, they’d be less likely to be religious, but the world wouldn’t magically turn into Denmark. That’s because rational argument only goes so far in dispelling religion. I’ve often argued—with lots of evidence to back me up—that religiosity is largely a product of social dysfunction. The most dysfunctional societies are the most religious, and there’s evidence that the former causes the latter rather than vice versa. Marx was right in characterizing religion as the sigh of the oppressed masses, and if we want to get rid of it, we must first recognize and dismantle the aspects of society that breed religiosity. Happily, those happen to be the very things that most of us want to eliminate anyway: gross income inequality, a lack of government medical care, societies that don’t take care of their aged and sick citizens, and so on.

2. There is no culture war involving religion.

The problem is, the “culture war” is a false construct created by politicians and public intellectuals, left and right. The state of faith in the world is much grayer, much humbler, and much less divided than atheist academics and preaching politicians claim. Especially in the U.S., social conservatives are often called out in the media for reifying and inflaming this cultural divide: The rhetoric of once and future White House hopefuls like Rick Santorum, Sarah Palin, and Bobby Jindal reinforces an “us” and “them” distinction between those with faith and those without. Knowing God helps them live and legislate in the “right” way, they say.

. . . Most people form their beliefs and live their lives somewhere in the middle of the so-called “culture divide” that outspoken atheists and believers shout across. The more these shouters shout, the more public discourse veers away from the subtle struggle of the average person’s attempt to be human.

If ever there was a culture war, it’s not between the science and the humanities, but between unbelievers and religionists. If there isn’t, why are the New Atheists going after religion so hard, and why are theologians and faitheists writing dozens of books attacking New Atheism? The divide between atheists and believers is not artificial, but real—and strong.  70% of Americans definitely believe in a God or supreme being and 67.5% in a personal God who “concerns himself with every human being personally. ” According to a 2013 Harris poll, 66% of Americans are absolutely certain there’s a God, and 12% are “somewhat certain.”. Only 12% are “not sure”, with the rest being somewhat certain there’s no god (5%) or absolutely certain (6%) that there is no God. That’s polarization!

True, many religionists are not as extreme in their social views as Santorum or Palin, but there’s a difference between the concept of an overall culture war and a culture war about the existence of God. These are conflated by Green, who doesn’t seem to be thinking too hard anyway.

3.  Religion is pervasive so atheism won’t win. I quoted Green above as saying this: “Watson implies that full engagement with the project of being human in the modern world leads to atheism, and that’s just not true.”

Why isn’t it true? Here’s Green’s Big Argument: because religion is ubiquitous in the world. I quote her argument, which to me has overtones of “Nyah nyah nyah: you atheists can’t win because there are so many believers”:

We know it’s not true because the vast majority of the world believes in God or some sort higher power. Worldwide, religious belief and observance vary widely by region. It’s tough to get a fully accurate global picture of faith in God or a “higher power,” but the metric of religiosity serves as a helpful proxy. Only 16 percent of the world’s population was not affiliated with a particular faith as of 2010, although many of these people believe in God or a spiritual deity, according to the Pew Research Center. More than three-fourths of the religiously unaffiliated live in the Asia-Pacific region, with a majority (62 percent) living in China. In other regions, the percentage of those who say they have no religious affiliation are much smaller: 7.7 percent in Latin America; 3.2 percent in sub-Saharan Africa; 0.6 percent in the Middle East.

If the age of atheism started in 1882, most people still haven’t caught on.

Arguably, Watson wasn’t writing for the whole world—he stuck to Western thinkers and artists. But even if we focus on Europe and North America, his implicit argument isn’t supported by statistics. Eighteen percent of Europeans are religiously unaffiliated, but again, many of those people believe in God—30 percent of unaffiliated French people do, for example. And even though Christianity is growing fastest in Latin America and sub-Saharan African, as of 2010, Europe was still home to a quarter of the world’s Christians—the largest population in the world.

In America, which sociologists often describe as a uniquely religious country compared with the rest of the Western world, a vast majority of people have faith. According to Pew, 86 percent of Millennials, or people aged 18-33, say they believe in God, and 94 percent of people 34 and older say the same. It’s true that a growing group say they’re “not certain” about this belief, and it’s also true that affiliation with formal religious institutions is declining. But in terms of pure belief, self-described atheists and agnostics are a small minority, making up only six percent of the population.

What Green fails to absorb, but actually alludes to, is that religion is declining in most parts of the world, and certainly in the U.S. and Europe. Further, the world is far less religious today than it was a few centuries ago. In Europe until about the 18th century, it was unthinkable  to not be religious. You’d be killed at the worst, an apostate like Spinoza at best.  Now there is no penalty (except in some Islamic countries) for unbelief, and many people are atheists and agnostics—probably far more than admit it.

Green is remarkably obtuse here as she is throughout her piece. Just because change is slow does not mean that the “project of being human in the world” (whatever that means) doesn’t lead to atheism.  Slow change is not no change. One could just as easily say that the “project of being human in the modern world” won’t lead to women’s equality, because women are still second-class citizens in most of the world.

h/t: Alberto

Caturday felid: “Methinks it is like a catcerto”

March 15, 2014 • 5:41 am

Today we have a rare guest Caturday felid; I can’t remember one since I started this site five years ago (has it really been that long?). So here’s Greg’s contribution, which shows a concerto (“Catcerto”) composed by Mindaugas Piecaitis to embellish and complement the playing of Nora the famous piano-playing cat. (The score for “Catcerto” can be found here.)  Greg goes on to relate this to evolution.

by Greg Mayer

Although Jerry posted the following video a couple of years ago, it came to my attention again yesterday, when a friend sent it to me. (And I did not recall until I checked that Jerry had posted it!)

My friend asked, “Can your cat do this?”, to which I replied

“Yes, if you taped her sitting at the keyboard long enough, only selected those bits where she hit several keys in a row, and then had the orchestra play around these selected moments.”

What immediately came to my mind (and what I quickly tried to explain to my correspondent), was that the cat playing the piano was not the result of the cat “knowing” how to play the piano, but rather the result of a cumulative selection process, in which the cat’s more or less random key strokes and rubs are filtered for those that are “good”, and the good ones then strung together.  If you let the cat sit at the piano long enough, recording all the while, then splice together all the times it made several euphonious keystrokes in a row, you can build up a “solo”. The composer then composed a piece around these selected euphonious elements.

The video exhibits something akin to Richards Dawkins’ “me thinks it is like a weasel” story, which he related in The Blind Watchmaker (my favorite of his books, though I’ve not read them all). Given enough time, a monkey pounding at a typewriter would reproduce all of Shakespeare, but it would take a very long time indeed. But if you allow cumulative selection to work—saving correct steps when they occur—it is possible to get a coherent phrase rather quickly. Dawkins illustrated this with a famous line from Hamlet, in which Hamlet is making a fool of Polonius; says Hamlet, “Methinks it is like a weasel.”

The probability of a monkey producing the 28 characters in the sentence in a single try is one in 27 (the number of letters plus the possibility of a space) raised to the 28th power, or roughly 1/10^40– a mind-bogglingly small chance. But if you select any correct letters that happen to appear, and then let incorrect letters vary again, and then repeat, you will soon get the full sentence. In Dawkins’ first try with a simple computer program that implemented this selection algorithm, it took just 43 trials (“generations”) to get it, and that result was typical. The point of course, is that random variation and cumulative selection is a very different process from just random variation (which many critics of natural selection seem not to get).  (The program captures only some of the characteristics of cumulative selection, and Dawkins discusses these caveats in the book: see Chapter 3, “Accumulating small change”).

In the “Catcerto”, the keystrokes of the cat (which are apparently encouraged in some way by her owner, whose hands appear briefly at one point in the tape) are recorded, and the euphonious combinations selected, much as the correct letters are saved in Dawkins’ program. The composer can then select from among these, and splice them together, including changing their order (something for which there is no analogue in Dawkins’ program), and then write the chamber orchestral score around these spliced together euphonious moments.

h/t: D. Pham

Saturday: Hili Dialogue

March 15, 2014 • 2:31 am

Hili gives tenure to her minions:

Hili: Three months have passed since “Letters” appeared online.
A: And?
Hili: I’m satisfied. The probationary period is over, I’m giving you a permanent job.

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In Polish:
Hili: Minęły trzy miesiące od czasu kiedy “Listy” są w sieci.
Ja: I co?
Hili: Jestem zadowolona, kończy się okres próbny, przyjmuję was na stałe.

Readers’ cats: Spook (RIP) is replaced by Gus

March 14, 2014 • 2:39 pm

What shall we have to close a long week? Would a cat do? How about one without ears? (Yes, I know there have been many cats this week, but the laws of physics determined that long ago, and I had no choice in the matter.)

In December reader Carol (aka Taskin) lost her black cat Spook, who was memorialized on this site. But I’ve recently heard from her that she’s adopted another cat—a stray—and she sent a note and some photos:

I’ve adopted a new cat!  His name is Gus and I’ve included a few pictures. He has lost his ears due to frostbite.  A friend of mine is a vet and this stray cat was brought into her clinic after having been caught in a trap during one of the -40° spells we’ve had here. Seriously, what sort of idiot do you have to be to set a trap in that kind of weather?  (It also seems as though he was the intended victim of the trap.) Anyway, the folks at the vet clinic thought of me since my previous cat, Spook, was all black.  A bit of a yin and yang, you know.

The vet was worried he might also lose some of his tail, but fortunately that didn’t happen.  The pads of his feet lost skin but they are okay now.  He’s a fantastic cat, probably not quite a year old.  He is still pretty skittish around other people, but is playful and affectionate and coming around really well.  He’s going to make a very nice companion.  I think of him as a designer cat with designer ears.  (Actually, I’ve become so used to his ears that I’m surprised to see cats with full ears now.)

Gus in the window

Except for the missing ears, Spook reminds me very much of my late and beloved cat Teddy, who was also pure white with green eyes.

Gus in action

Gus

My first posted recipe

March 14, 2014 • 12:12 pm

Today is “Pi Day,” celebrating both the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter (why do we celebrate that?) and the birthday of Albert Einstein. Several readers have called this to my attention, and mentioned the more important form of “pi”—the one that you eat.  One said she had a wonderful recipe for sweet-potato pudding.

Now I don’t make pies, but I’m a creditable cook for a guy, and am especially good with Szechuan food, which I’ve been cooking since graduate school. However, there are times—most days, actually—when I just don’t have the gumption to cook something complicated or time-consuming.  When that happens, I sometimes make what I will call the “Ceiling Cat Special,” an easy dish that can be prepared in about 10 minutes, is filling and nutritious, and tastes good, especially with an off-dry white wine or a fine glass of ale. It’s a takeoff on a dish I’ve repeatedly eaten in Central America: black beans and rice. Many of you may find the following repugnant, but here it is (if there aren’t too many denigrating comments, some day I’ll put up my recipe for the world’s best hot and sour soup):

Ceiling Cat Special (invented by his earthly minion)

1 12-oz can cooked black beans (preferably Goya or another Hispanic variety)About 1.25 cups cooked rice
1 medium-sized onion
plain yogurt
libation of your choice

Mix black beans and rice, and heat up in a saucepan. Dice onions and sautée (I use a wok) until they’re done to your specification.  I like them partly caramelized, as you see below. When rice and beans are hot, put in a bowl, top with generous dollops of plain yogurt, and garnish with the sautéed onion. Eat (I mix everything together first, but you can keep them layered), downing the food with the libation.

Here’s what it looks like.  The beer is a hoppy red ale, but a good German Riesling (especially a nice Spätlese) will complement it even better.

Ceiling Cat special

Now of course this isn’t anything special, but I’m using this post to invite you to post your favorite recipes (comfort food or otherwise) in the comments, as several readers intimated they might do. I suspect that there will be some good ones.

Oh, and this proves that I don’t usually eat the kind of food I post about.