A rescued kitten

October 19, 2013 • 7:35 am

We will have mostly amusement and persiflage today, as it’s the weekend and I’m working hard.  With luck I can put up a science post in a bit.

In the meantime, I know you’re all on tenterhooks after reader Sheila B reported yesterday that she’d adopted a stray kitten. Well, an eight-month-old “kitten”—and pregnant, too! I of course demanded photos and a story, and she kindly obliged. Sheila’s report:

The finding:

I was lying in bed on Monday morning listening to the rain hammering on the window, as only Texas rain can do, thinking “What is that noise?” Get up, get umbrella, hope none of the neighbors see me in my nightgown, look around the front of the house. Can hear meowing, but can’t see anything. Go back in the house, out the back, meowing much louder and little face pops out from the gap between the fence and the shed. Enticed her out and under the porch. Fortunately it was warm outside so her only apparent discomfort was that she was hungry. We spent the next few days calling neighbors and checking websites for lost cats and buying cat food and litter. No-one seemed to be missing a cat and by the time we’d purchased a scratching post, we realized she was staying with us. Indeed, she has shown no inclination to leave! We took her to the vet to see whether she was chipped (she’s not), and to get her checked over. Apart from fleas, which the vet treated, she was  otherwise in good health. And in the family way!

She is very friendly, very talkative, very playful (anything that moves is fair game) and we named her Zinnia. I say “we” because she has wormed her way into my husband’s affections, even though she stalks the fringed weights hanging from his prized Japanese scrolls.

Stray kitten

Of course I will now request pictures of the kittens when they arrive.

Caturday felid: Cats pwn dogs by stealing their beds, and how cats see the world.

October 19, 2013 • 4:54 am

I give in: elebenty gazillion readers sent me this hilarious video of cats stealing d*gs’ beds, which, of course, was exactly what I encountered in Poland.   The dog Emma regularly slept on the hard floor while Hili-Cat, refusing her own nice bed, appropriated Emma’s.  Although this video features d*gs, it does so in an unflattering light, and so it will be part of today’s Caturday felids.  This may in fact be the one item I’ve been sent most frequently by readers in the history of this website. I conclude that most readers like to see cats triumphant.

The d*gs are impotent, powerless. They clearly perceive the cats as superior animals.

Several readers also sent me this interesting piece from Popular Science, “See the world through the eyes of a cat.” It uses “science” to depict how cats see the world. I’m not convinced.

Artist Nickolay Lamm, who has previously brought us visualizations of urban heat islands and sea level rise projections, took a look at the world through kitty eyes for his latest project. Lamm consulted with ophthalmologists at the University of Pennsylvania’s veterinary school and a few other animal eye specialists to create these visualizations comparing how cats see with how humans do. How we see things is represented on top; how a cat standing next to us would see the same scene appears below.

If a moggie found its way to Times Square, in New York City, this is what it would supposedly see:

timessq

How did they do this?

Some of the cat-eye facts he took into account: The blurry edges of the pictures represent peripheral vision. Humans have a 20 degree range of peripheral vision on each side. Cats can see 30 degrees on each side. Their visual field overall is just bigger—they see 200 degrees compared to our 180 degrees.

Cat vision isn’t so great at a distance. What we can see sharply from 100 feet away, they need to see at 20 feet. From what researchers can tell, cats can see blue and yellow colors, but not red, orange or brown, which is why all the images look a little washed out. Your kitty sees in Instagram, it seems. Not so good for looking at far-away, lush landscapes.

Well, the problem here is that they’re simulating vision based on the morphology of cat’s eyes, and perhaps some experiments on peripheral vision.  You can probably detect the problem with this already.

Here’s that New York cat in Grand Central Station, also in New York:

grandcentral

The problem is that we have no idea how the cat’s brain processes the visual input, and about that we have no idea.  The cat could, for instance, see even worse than this, or might compensate for the problems by seeing better than the pictures suggest.

A cat in the mountains would supposedly see this:

mountain

What about at night? We all know that cats are far better than we at seeing in the dark. Here’s a simulation of cats’ night vision.

Cats can see some six to eight times better than us in the dark, partially because they have more rods, a type of photoreceptor in the retina. Their elliptical pupils can open very wide in dim light, but contract to a tiny slit to protect the sensetive retina from bright light. And like other animals that evolved to hunt at night, cats have a tapetum lucidum, a reflective layer of tissue that bounces light that hits the back of the eye out through the retina again for a second chance to be absorbed by the rods. It’s also what gives them those terrifying glowing eyes in pictures.

darkvision

Well, maybe, but again we don’t know how the brain of a cat would interpret the input.  The bottom doesn’t look all that better than the top. Maybe it’s accurate, but perhaps cats can, like a camera, somehow compensate even more by increasing the “exposure” it perceives.

At any rate, at least this tells us something about peripheral vision and perhaps about the colors cats perceive.  The problem of how the brain processes information in another species—what it really “sees”—is a problem of qualia, and one that, for the present, is unknown. Someday we might be able to download a cat’s brain onto a computer and get that kind of information, but of course you’d have to find a way to give that computer noms, and eventually we’d find computers taking over our beds.

I wish they’d have mentioned the brain problem, but, after all, it’s “popular science.”

Goblin shark

October 19, 2013 • 2:11 am

by Matthew Cobb

Goblin sharks are little-known weird-looking deep-sea sharks, with a very pointy nose that is covered with electric field detectors (ampullae of Lorenzini) that help it find its prey in the abyssal depths. But it’s what it can do with its mouth which is most amazing, as shown by this gif (which on this blog website  [JAC: I apologize on Matthew’s behalf] is pronounced ‘jiff’, folks! – don’t comment on this unless you have something new to say compared to these remarks):

600-grey-goblin

(Is the prey is alive and just very stupid or has it been lulled into a lethally false sense of security, and if so how?)

Here’s some disturbing footage of a goblin shark accidentally nomming a diver’s arm. What this deep-ocean shark was doing at aqualung-diver depth (ie max 300 metres or so)?

If you want to know more about these deep-sea beasts, this neat piece from wired.com will help.

The worst songs ever: 2. “I’ve never been to me”

October 18, 2013 • 1:46 pm

I’ll never forget the first time I heard this song: I was driving with my girlfriend to Death Valley along route 395, skirting the spectacular eastern edge of the Sierra Nevada. (That, by the way, is my favorite road in the U.S., at least the stretch from Reno to Lone Pine.) Climbing one of the small hills on that road, we heard this song on the radio. It was so absolutely dreadful, so cloying in its lyrics, that I almost stopped the car in horror. It must have been 1982, for that’s when this musical travesty, by Charlene, was released for the second time.

And for the rest of the trip I’d occasionally burst out singing four of its worst lines:

I’ve been undressed by kings and I’ve seen some things
That a woman ain’t supposed to see;
I’ve been to paradise,
But I’ve never been to me.

The sad thing is that this pathetic excuse for a song rose to #3 on the U.S. charts. But it was worse in Australia, Canada, the UK, and Ireland, where it hit #1. What does that say about those countries?

Charlene, thank God, never had another hit.

Here, read the lyrics in all their ghastly splendor; they rival Glenn Campbell’s “Dreams of the Everyday Housewife” as a paean to a woman’s giving up her dreams in favor of a mediocre marriage and a passel of troublesome kids. I’ve put the funniest lines in bold:

Hey lady, you, lady, cursin’ at your life
You’re a discontented mother and a regimented wife
I’ve no doubt you dream about the things you never do
But I wish someone had a talk to me like I wanna talk to you
Ooh I’ve been to Georgia and California, and, anywhere I could run
Took the hand of a preacherman and we made love in the sun
But I ran out of places and friendly faces because I had to be free

I’ve been to paradise, but I’ve never been to me

Please lady, please, lady, don’t just walk away
‘Cause I have this need to tell you why I’m all alone today
I can see so much of me still living in your eyes
Won’t you share a part of a weary heart that has lived a million lies
Oh I’ve been to Nice and the isle of Greece
Where I sipped champagne on a yacht
I moved like Harlow in Monte Carlo and showed ’em what I’ve got
I’ve been undressed by kings and I’ve seen some things
That a woman ain’t s’posed to see

I’ve been to paradise, but I’ve never been to me

Hey, you know what paradise is? It’s a lie
A fantasy we create about people and places as we’d like them to be
But you know what truth is?
It’s that little baby you’re holding, and it’s that man you fought with this morning
The same one you’re going to make love with tonight. That’s truth, that’s love

Sometimes I’ve been to cryin’ for unborn children
That might have made me complete
But I, I took the sweet life and never knew I’d be bitter from the sweet
I spent my life exploring the subtle whoring that cost too much to be free

Hey lady, I’ve been to paradise, but I’ve never been to me

I’ve been to paradise – never been to me
(I’ve been to Georgia and California, and anywhere I could run)
I’ve been to paradise – never been to me
(I’ve been to Nice and the isle of Greece
While I sipped champagne on a yacht)
I’ve been to paradise – never been to me
(I’ve been to cryin’ for unborn children )
(Fade)

What, by the way, is the “isle of Greece”? It’s a peninsula, for crying out loud!

A new law of biology: All mammals pee for about 21 seconds

October 18, 2013 • 10:40 am

A new paper by P. J. Yang et al. at ArXiv.org (reference and free download of the first page below) has produced a new Law of Biology.  The whole paper isn’t online, and I don’t know where it was submitted, but. . . .well, the title speaks for itself:

Picture 3

And what is that duration, exactly? The abstract says about 21 ± 13 (is that the standard deviation among species?) seconds:

Picture 2

I don’t completely get this, but hey, it’s physics, Jake.  How does simply lengthening the urethra increase the flow. What about its width?  The penultimate sentence is ambiguous, perhaps smacking a bit of teleology, since a system can’t evolve for future contingencies, like being scaled up without hurting its function. But that may be some kind of shorthand.

A precis at Seriously, Science? on the Discover blogs just reiterates the paper, but adds a video showing micturation in mammals (you get a bonus defecation with the elephant), and then some geometry and algebra presented quickly, showing that the duration of urination increases only as the sixth root of body mass (mass^0.1666), i.e., very slowly, so that a large mammal will have pretty much the same duration as a small mammal.  Maybe you physics buffs can figure it out from the quick presentation on this video:

If you understand their conclusion based on the geometry and algebra, please explain in a comment.

I eagerly await the publication of the full paper. In the meantime, I think we should all start timing ourselves.

_________

Yang, P. J., J. C. Pham, J. Choo, and D. L. Hu. 2013. Law of Urination: all mammals empty their bladders over the same duration. submitted

Did Christianity (and other religions) promote the rise of science?

October 18, 2013 • 7:32 am

Of course most of you will answer “No way!”, and I do, too, but accommodationists and science-friendly believers make this argument often. Here are a few specimens:

“. . . the very notion of physical law is a theological one in the first place, a fact that makes many scientists squirm. Isaac Newton first got the idea of absolute, universal, perfect, immutable laws from the Christian doctrine that God created the world and ordered it in a rational way. Christians envisage God as upholding the natural order from beyond the universe, while physicists think of their laws as inhabiting an abstract transcendent realm of perfect mathematical relationships.”—Paul Davies, “Taking Science on Faith“, New York Times.

“Moral laws are promulgated by God for free creatures, who have it in their power to obey or disobey. The laws of nature, on the other hand, are promulgated for the inanimate world of matter; physical objects don’t get to decide to obey, say, Newton’s law of gravity. In each case, however, we have the setting forth or promulgation of divine rule for a certain domain of application. It is important to see that our notion of the laws of nature, crucial for contemporary science, has this origin in Christian theism.”  —Alvin Plantinga, Where the Conflict Really Lies, p. 276

“Indeed, a distinctive feature of the Scientific Revolution is that, unlike other scientific programmes and cultures, it is driven, often explicitly, by religious considerations: Christianity set the agenda for natural philosophy in many respects and projected it forward in a way quite different from that of any scientific culture. Moreover, when the standing of religion as a source of knowledge about the world, and cognitive values generally, came to be threatened, it was not science that posed the threat but history.” —S. Graukoger, The Emergence of a Modern Scientific Culture, p. 3

“faith in the possibility of science, generated antecdently to the development of modern scientific theory, is an unconscious derivative from medieval theology.” —Alfred North Whitehead, Science and the Modern World, p. 19.

“Recent scholarship, most of it conducted by secular academics, has established that religious belief was entirely compatible with scientific progress, even encouraging it in many cases.”—K. Giberson and F. Collins, The Language of Science and Faith

Inevitably accompanying these claims is the assertion that because many early scientists (e.g., Newton, Galileo, Copernicus, and Maxwell) were Christians, Christianity must claim some credit for science. Other faiths too take credit; it’s common for accommodationist Muslims to point out that the real scientific achievements of Islam, coupled with bogus exegesis of the Qur’an, show that Islam was important in encouraging science.

The claims are diverse, but all give religion—especially Christianity—credit for science.  Religion is said to either encourage thinking (read Aquinas), impel people to do science as a way of unravelling God’s plan, lead to the idea of scientific laws (viz. Davies and Plantinga, above), or “encourage” science in some nebulous ways (this “encouragement” often seems to mean only “did not impede science.”)

Now these claims are bogus, but if you read various histories of science, you’ll see conflict on this issue.  I’ll put my own objections below, but you should also read Richard Carrier’s 2010 article, “Christianity was not responsible for modern science.” Pp. 396-419 in J. W. Loftus, ed. The Christian Delusion: Why Faith Fails. Prometheus Books (that’s a book well worth reading, by the way.)

Here are some of my responses to the “science came from Christianity” canard

1. Even were it true, it doesn’t in any way support the truth claims of Christianity or any other religion.

2. Christianity was around for a millennium without much science being done; “modern” science really started as a going concern in the 17th century. Why did that take so long if Christianity was so important in fostering science?

3. If you think of science as rational and empirical investigation of the natural world, it originated not with Christianity but with the ancient Greeks, and was also promulgated for a while by Islam.

3. Carrier makes the point that there was no scientific revolution in the eastern half of the Christian world. Why was that?

4. Another Carrier point: geometry was invented by polytheists (ancient Greeks); do we give polytheism credit for geometry, then?

5. Religion has of course also repressed the search for knowledge. Not only do we have the cases of Galileo and Bruno, but also the active discouragement of the use of reason by many church fathers, especially Martin Luther, who made statements like this: “Reason is a whore, the greatest enemy that faith has; it never comes to the aid of spiritual things, but more frequently than not struggles against the divine Word, treating with contempt all that emanates from God.” And freethinkers like Spinoza were regularly persecuted by religion (Judaism in his case.)

6. There was and still is, of course, opposition to science by Christians. The greatest opponent of biology’s greatest theory—evolution—has always been Christianity.

7. If religion promulgated the search for knowledge, it also gave rise to erroneous, revelation-based “scientific” conclusions that surely impeded progress. Those include creation ex nihilo, the Great Flood, a geocentric universe, and so on.

8.  Early scientists were Christians, at least in the west, because everyone was a Christian then.  You would have been an apostate, or burnt at the stake, had you denied that faith.  If you’re going to give Christianity credit for science, you have to give it credit for nearly everything, including art, architecture, music, and so on.

9.  Islam began as a science-supportive regime, but lost its impetus when the faith around the 16th century when religious authorities began repressing a “western” mode of inquiry. This anti-Western attitude may explain the minimal achievements of science in modern Islamic nations.

10. At present nearly half of science are atheists, and the argument that religion motivates science can no longer stand. The major achievements of science, including relativity, evolution, and modern molecular biology, were achieved by non-theists. Indeed, Jim Watson told me that his and Crick’s drive to find the structure of DNA was largely motivated by a desire to show that the “secret of life”—the replicating molecule that serves as a recipe for bodies—was pure chemistry, with not a trace of the divine in it.

11. All progress in science, whether ancient or modern, came from ignoring or rejecting the idea of divine intervention. Even if theories were inspired by thoughts of God, they were substantiated or disproven by tacitly assuming a godless universe—that is, by employing methodological naturalism. Religion has only impeded that kind of investigation and, in fact, has never come up with a theory on its own that had scientific credibility.  Newton, for instance, couldn’t explain regular planetary motion, and had to invoke divine intervention (so much for God helping science!) until Laplace came along and showed that orbital irregularities could be explained in a purely naturalistic way. (As Laplace supposedly replied to Napoleon, who had read Kepler’s book on celestial mechanics and inquired about the absence of God in that tome, “I have no need of that hypothesis.”)

And of course there’s a contradiction, too: if religion and science are separate magisteria, as Gould maintained, then the are completely separate and can only harm each other by overstepping their bounds.  But if you claim that religion inspired scientific theories and scientific progress, that’s a NOMA boundary violation.

In the end, it’s a useless argument, for there is no rapprochement between the religious and nonreligious historians of science. I’m willing to grant that some scientists were prompted by their faith to study nature. But what we do know is that all the achievements of both ancient and modern science have been made by explicitly rejecting the theistic view that God has a hand in the universe, and that religion, if it ever did inspire scientific research, doesn’t do so any longer.  I maintain, though I can’t prove this, that had there been no Christianity, if after the fall of Rome atheism had pervaded the Western world, science would have developed earlier and be far more advanced than it is now. All religion has done was inspire a few famous scientists to do their work. Its inimical effects on science were far more serious.

I know many of my readers know far more than I about the history of science and its interaction with religion. Do weigh in below with your opinions.