The April 28 edition of Nature carried this label on the front cover:
This journal contains material on evolution. Evolution by natural selection is a theory, not a fact. This material should be approached with an open mind, studied carefully and critically considered.
Approved by the University Board of Regents, 2006
An eye-popper, huh? Particularly if you’re the kind of person who reads Nature. The meaty bits came in an editorial (“Dealing with design”) and a news story (“Who has designs on your students’ minds?”) If you find the “Intelligent Design” debate at all interesting, hunt down this issue of Nature . . . and read on:
The gist of the editorial was that scientists should, if they themselves are religious, “[take] the time to talk to students about how they personally reconcile their beliefs with their research.” Ahem. (That’s Ahem, as in Gag me with a rusty spork, not Amen.) In the May 19 issue of Nature, I was gratified to discover that I wasn’t the only one to find this a wishy-washy position.
David Leaf (Dept. of Biology, Western Washington University) wants Intelligent Design to be taught in college classrooms — and he makes a great point:
In my experience, upper-level biology students with the appropriate background in molecular biology, genetics, developmental biology and evolution are capable of distinguishing the scientific merits of evolutionist and ID claims — to the great disadvantage of ID.
He goes on to write that we should keep it out of high schools primarily because high school students lack the scientific equipment to make “a well-reasoned judgement about the status of any scientific theory, including evolution”. (I would argue that it is possible, and it is worth the effort; but are our high school biology teachers up to the job? Mine certainly wasn’t.)
Chris Miller (Department of Biochemistry, Brandeis University) points out that our analogies are all wrong. We shouldn’t be calling evolution “a blind watchmaker or any other kind of engineer”
but rather a short-order cook, and — looking at the phenomenally complicated structures — one who is less like Isaac Newton than Rube Goldberg or W. Heath Robinson.
After first referring to the Wnt signalling pathway and G-protein control of cellular calcium, Dr. Miller concludes, “Just look at the details, and you’ll immediately abandon all thoughts that biological systems were designed with any intelligence whatsoever.”
(I came to that same conclusion after pondering the wit of Intelligent Design proponents.)
There are many more great letters. I urge you to pick up a copy and read ’em for yourself (pages 275 – 276 of the May 19 issue). As a parting shot, I’d like to quote from one last letter written by Jerry Coyne (Dept. of Ecology and Evolution, University of Chicago) and signed off on by a few blokes like, oh, Richard Dawkins, Richard Lewontin, James Watson, Steven Weinberg, Lewis Wolpert . . . the list goes on:
The real business of science teachers is to teach science, not to help students shore up worldviews that crumble when they learn science. And ID creationism is not science, despite the editors’ suggestion that ID “tries to use scientific methods to find evidence of God in nature”. Rather, advocates of ID pretend to use scientific methods to support their religious preconceptions. It has no more place in the classroom than geocentrism has in the astronomy curriculum.
. . . . Scientists should never have to apologize for teaching science.
Amen to that.
D.
Delightful New York Times Op-Ed piece from Frank Rich today regarding the conservative movement’s embrace of South Park. Brief quote:
“South Park Conservatives: The Revolt Against Liberal Media Bias,” by Brian C. Anderson of the conservative think tank the Manhattan Institute, gives a wet kiss to one of the funniest and most foul-mouthed series on television.
Anderson has myopically focused on certain episodes that lampoon Hollywood lefties like Rob Reiner, Barbra Streisand, and Sally Struthers; and who could miss the undeniably conservative bias of Parker & Stone’s movie Team America? Yet, as Rich points out, Anderson was a bit too quick to the press: South Park’s recent episode looking at the Schiavo case skewered the Right’s mammoth over-step.
Rich also looks at the Right’s recent move to increase censorship of movies and TV. Time to trot out the names and addresses of our national representatives and get writing.
Back to South Park. Rich could have mentioned any number of episodes which fell far to the left of center. In one, the kids lie through their teeth to buy ‘real Ninja weapons’ at the fair. While playing with their gear, Butters gets nailed in the eye with a shuriken — and that’s not the end of the violence visited upon poor Butters. Yet when the townfolk learn about Butters’ injuries, what do they care about? The fact that Cartman has exposed himself in public.
Better example: In South Park: Bigger Longer & Uncut (good night — I just got that joke!), Parker & Stone satirized all those V-chipping tight asses who want to protect their preciouses from four letter words, and impose their morals on the rest of us.
The point — and I think Rich overlooks this — the point is, South Park is satire. Their writers will attack hypocrisy, arrogance, pomposity, and overzealousness wherever they find it; there is no shortage of it on both sides of the political red line. In a very real way, Parker & Stone are cutting away the bullshit to show us slivers of truth, much as The Daily Show does with their fake news.
Three cheers to South Park. Here’s hoping they’re the next in line to win a Peabody.
D.
Here is an email I received yesterday:
I was listening to your show today (4/23) and your discussion about vampire
bat saliva as an anti-coagulant used as the basis for formulating a new
drug. In disseminating this factual information, you also stated that this
anti-coagulant function in the vampire bat evolved over thousands of years,
which I do not believe to be a fact, but conjecture. Do you know as a
scientific fact that the vampire bat was not created with that ability?
I’m very leery of evolutionists and their theories. Evolution, after all,
is still a theory, and not a proven scientific fact.
Although the theory of evolution may be generally accepted, it is still a
theory.
This fellow was kind enough to let me use this email, so I won’t be mean. After all, he’s not the first person to confuse me with alternative medicine guru Dr. Ronald Hoffman, nor can he help having the wrong idea about evolution. He’s not alone: according to the Gallup folks, one third of Americans consider evolution to be ‘one of many theories’, ‘not supported by evidence’. (One third do think evolution is backed by evidence, and one third stated they didn’t know enough about it to have an opinion. Yay, US educational system!!)
As a former scientist (can I call myself that? Or should I say, ‘former scientist wannabe’?), I have a reasonably thorough knowledge of the nitty gritty details of evolution; I understand both the arguments Creationists use, and the proofs debunking those specious arguments. This format is far too limited to even scratch the surface. Besides, Mark Isaak’s Talk Origins Archive has a stunningly exhaustive index of Creationist arguments and their rebuttals. (Regarding the one third of Americans who don’t believe there is any empirical evidence backing the theory of evolution, see this page at the Talk Origins Archive for the exhaustive response.)
HOWEVER. As a writer, I’m captivated by the letter-writer’s use of the word theory. You see, scientists are saddled with a word whose common meaning is very nearly the antithesis of its proper scientific meaning. To the common man, just about any half-poached idea can warrant the label of theory. I have a theory that Brittney Spears is actually Orlando Bloom, cleverly disguised. See? All it takes to hatch this sort of theory is an imagination, and not a particularly good one at that.
But to a scientist, a theory is far more than a random brain fart. Wikipedia has a somewhat vague discussion of ‘theory’. The best bit of this discussion: a theory is a model of reality. A good theory explains aspects of our world, solar system, universe; a good theory enables us to make testable predictions regarding features of nature we have not yet investigated. A scientific theory is therefore not a hunch, guess, or hypothesis, as these are not generalizable to other aspects of nature. (My theory of Brittney Spears’ true identity does not enable me to make predictions as to Michael Jackson’s species.) Nor do scientific theories have an equal footing with religion, faith, or philosophy. Apples and origins, kids. Apples and origins.
Is evolution a good theory? When it comes to the natural sciences, evolution has been an unparalleled success. It’s a stupendous theory. That makes it somewhat less solid than real numbers and somewhat more solid than matter.
Not that this will have any power whatsoever over the Creationists, for they possess something far more adamantine than the theory of evolution: they have faith. Faith is the arch-meme, the mega mind virus that trumps all others. Reason has no clout with faith. You might as well treat colon cancer with black coffee enemas.
D.
It’s true. Women phone me from all over the country, ask my advice, and then write articles about what I say. They get published in various womens’ magazines with babes like Cameron Diaz on the cover. Just buy the May edition of Marie Claire and see for yourself (I’ve been quoted in Cosmo, too.). So that you don’t have to trouble yourself with Cameron’s “secret passions” or the article “SEX with strangers (the naughty trend YOU need to know)”, go straight to page 201 and listen to yours truly holding forth on the subject of acid reflux.
Whatever you do, don’t turn the page, or you might see a very tasteful black-and-white photograph of a blonde knockout being orally pleasured by . . . oh, I dunno . . . someone with dark hair. Maybe it’s her husband. Yeah, that’s it.
The article (spoilers! spoilers!) is about vaginal rejuvenation surgery and G-spot collagen injection. This last bit caught my attention. Get this: it costs $1800 and is supposed to improve orgasm. And it lasts about three months before the collagen is absorbed.
Waves of ozone spilled from my dizzily cranking flywheels. G-spot collage injection? I once injected collagen into a woman’s lips to make them more Julia-Robertsy, so why not? While we’re at it, we* could advocate clitoral collagen injection for women whose men are permanently lost at sea. (Where, honey? Where? Damn. Thought I had it that time.) Or penile collagen injections: semi-permanently ribbed for her pleasure.
Tweaked white women like Jocelyne Wildenstein get plastic surgery to look like lions. Southern California parents want their pre-teen daughters to have breast implants to hurry along their modeling career (sorry, no link for that — I’d have to sift through too many kiddie porn sites, and I’m not that twisted). Some guys are getting horns and whiskers surgically implanted. And then there’s Michael Jackson. And so I ask you: why the hell not?
I have an answer, but before I share it with you, take a look at this blog, wherein writer Katie attributes all of this to . . . SATAN!
Why say no to G-spot collagen injection? Simple good sense: there’s no track record. Wait for the double blind trials, people.
Why say no to the Jocelyne Wildensteins and Michael Jacksons of the world? Because they’re in piss poor taste, that’s why. I mean . . . look at them. Come on.
By the way, there are no such things as ‘penile collagen injection’ or ‘clitoral collagen injection’. I did an advanced search on Google and it just ain’t there. Thank heavens.
D.
*’We’ in the sense of ‘extended medical community’, naturally. As an ENT, if I stray below your collarbones with anything other than a stethoscope, stop me.