Thursday, December 8, 2011

The Fact That Other People Exist Isn't An Attack On Your Rights


This little gem of an ad is a perfect example of what bothers me so much. There are plenty of problems in this country, but apparently these are the ones that matter: gays and Christmas in school.

First, Mr. Perry, gay men and women are willing to fight and die to defend your right to celebrate whatever religion you want. Your answer to that seems to be that those brave people shouldn't have the same rights they die to give you.

Second, kids too can celebrate whatever they want. They can even pray on school grounds. However, if you want to take time out of class to pray to Jesus and celebrate Christmas, you're going to also have to allow time out of the same class to celebrate Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Sukkot, Shemini Atzeret, Simchat Torah, Chanukkah, Tu B'Shevat, Purim, Pesach, Lag B'Omer, Shavu'ot, Tisha B'A, Milad un Nabi, Ramadan, Eid-Ul-Fitr, Eid-Ul-Adha, Al-Hijira, Ashura, Holi, Mahashivratri, Rama Navami, Krishna Jayanti, Raksabandhana, Chaturthi, Dassera, Navaratri, Diwali, Vesak Puja, Makha Bucha, and countless other holidays and festivals that you're too self-centered to have ever heard of.

With all that religious celebration during school time, I don't know when you planned to let the kids get around to learning anything. Though, given the vacuous content of your message, I guess that probably doesn't bother you.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Menace, or Literary Criticism? Nah, just menace*

There is a gender riot in skepticism. You've noticed, right? OK, well, I'll just give you the keywords instead of a synopsis, and move on to some clarification for those who are having a problem coming to grips with this: Rebecca Watson, elevator, 4 A.M., Richard Dawkins. That should be enough for you to catch up if you haven't noticed this situation yet.

It strikes me that this whole long conversation (argument? Sure) rolls right out of the same cognitive malfunction that creates so many of the problems that drive skepticism. People have to interpret the actions and behaviors of others, and that is difficult. Rebecca was put in an uncomfortable situation, and had to evaluate the other person present. Does this mean the man in the elevator did anything morally wrong, comparable with genital mutilation? Of course not. The wrong here isn't a moral wrong against an entire gender; it was a socially incorrect move that should have been avoided.

Fellow men, let me explain. This is subtle.

Context and behavior matter. When you interact with another person, say in what we will politely call a courtship interaction, you, Generic Man, will not be told in small, simple words exactly what your social partner thinks or desires. You must interpret her (his, whatever, I'm sticking with her because that's where we're running into trouble) words and behaviors in context. The context is huge. It includes your location, your other company in the area, the social history between you, your mood, her mood, your previous experience in life...I could go on.

Here's the subtle meta-game you should be playing: you should consider the possible ways she is interpreting your behavior through context. This man’s specific behavior and choice of environment were pretty much the worst context he could have created, and while he may not have been a real threat, it was his failure to see how it could look potentially threatening that caused this.

It may not even be the case that Rebecca seriously thought, "Oh crap, he might rape me." It is enough that he simply gave the impression that he did not understand how to properly interact socially in that context. If he's incorrect enough about how one should behave that he thought this was a good way to present himself, there is no good way for one to evaluate his potential next move.

Rebecca was being cautious and that behavior was legitimately creepy. It would be irresponsible for her not to turn him down as gently as she could and get out of there. Then, she asked people to consider the way that a person at the other end of their advances will interpret their behavior. That’s all, and she was right. Not everything you do is a potential assault, but you should consider whether it might look that way, say for instance at 4 in the morning, drunk, in a confined place.




*This is an expansion of a comment left on Phil Plait's blog.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Indivisible: An Open Letter to Defensive Christian Americans

When I criticize I do so because I care. If I voice the faults of my country on its nominal birthday, it is not out of hatred or anti-American sentiment, but rather in celebration and pride. I have pride in the country, even if I am ashamed of the actions of some of its citizens, and unfortunately this distinction is lost on those who most need to understand it. I am proud of the ideals that form the foundation of America, and for love of those we should be willing to endure censure when we fail to live up to those ideals of freedom.

When I say freedom, I am not just flag-waving and spouting an empty word, though freedom is one of those words that slip out easily for just that purpose. We often speak of freedom in a vague blanket sense, instead of some of the specific freedoms we have, and so those freedoms blur together (I am as guilty of this as are more casual flag-wavers, I'm sure). Freedom of religion and freedom of speech seem to clash in the most unintelligible ways.

Every year, I see some form of the same misguided campaign spill over the internet, usually in the sort of CAPS LOCK THAT MAKES IT TEMPTING TO IGNORE. However, the sentiment should not be ignored, no matter how tacky its presentation. The call goes out to post or forward the Pledge of Allegiance proudly for everyone to see. On its face, this seems fine, if a little insecure, but the rest of the message is the real point and motivation. The stated motivation isn't merely to post this out of national pride, but to do so specifically because you are not afraid of offending people.

The problem here is a confusion between offense and censorship, and between religious and national pride. Many of these posts and forwarded emails save their unnecessary caps lock exclusively for the words "UNDER GOD." The campaign is not one to declare patriotism for the USA, but to attack non-Christians. To be fair, from the perspective of those spreading this message, the motivation is to defend America against the attack of atheists. Unfortunately for this view, we are not attacking America. If I am offended, my offense is not an attack on you.

I am offended by the Pledge of Allegiance, because it violates my freedom. If I place my hand over my heart and take the pledge in its modern formulation, I am swearing an oath not to my country, but rather to both my country and your God. You have the freedom to hold any faith you wish, but must I pledge myself to it as well? Do I not have the same freedom you enjoy? It is not an attack on your faith when I refuse to bow to it. I am not offended that you believe in God, but I am offended that you insist that I must. If this is difficult for you, imagine your own feelings of revulsion and offense if instead the pledge read, "one nation where there is no God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

Now here is the part that you may not expect: I would be just as offended by that pledge as I am by the real one. Why? Because it is no better for your freedom to be violated than mine. I don't want the current "under God" phrase replaced with some other substitute. I want it gone. I don't want to remove God from your life; I just want you to keep it out of mine. You may not have recognized this before, but you are the one attacking, not I. Perhaps not on purpose, but nonetheless when you post the pledge without concern for my offense, it is not patriotic. It is in fact a violation of the very pledge you are posting. Just look at the next word after "under God" and you will understand.

Indivisible. The pledge claims that we are one nation, under God, indivisible. Do you not see the contradiction in that list, and even worse, in your insistence that one should post and email the pledge without concern for offense? If we are truly indivisible, then why must you so proudly exclude me? It is not only the exclusion, but the zeal and glee with which you display it that offends and disgusts me.

Think of early Christian martyrs in the Roman empire. Many of the Christian purges were motivated by specific incidents that are closely analogous to our Pledge of Allegiance. Citizens were periodically asked to make sacrifices to the official state gods for the safety of the city or the empire. It was dressed in religion, but the rituals were political, and when principled Christians refused to make the sacrifices, the charges were treason, not heresy. These Christians were not asked to give up their religion, only to make a token sacrifice. Do you not see the hypocrisy in your insistence that I recite even a token "under God" when your religious forebears were willing to die for the same principle?

My desire to see this phrase dropped from our Pledge is not an attack on you or your faith, but its presence is an attack on me. I want to be able to take an oath to a country whose ideals and freedoms are consistently given to all. I want to be part of this one nation, and I want it to truly be indivisible. I am not under your God. You are free to be "under God" if you choose. You are not free to tell me that I must be so.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

My least favorite question

It's a little uncomfortable for a free thinking skeptic to realize that there are questions he hates. That seems like a terrible attitude. Questions ought to be my bread and butter. But then again, I also hate the phrase "bread and butter," so where does that leave me?

Maybe it has to do with my interest in language and writing. In literature, we scour words for meaning and significance. Meanings piggyback on other meanings and we often pick up messages that aren't explicitly stated in what we read. Sometimes those meanings really aren't there at all, and we end up reacting to literary pareidolia. Still, even those erroneous reactions are important, because the reactions are real even if the message isn't. This is why I hate "Why?"

"Why?" is such a fundamental question. In many ways, it is the prototypical Big Question. Unfortunately, this tiny word hides a huge number of false, or at least unnecessary, assumptions, and to answer it may require the acceptance of falsehoods.


"Why" is often a stand-in for a slightly more complicated question. "Why won't my dog eat his food?" is my question of the day, but what I'd really like to know is more detailed. I'd like to know if his medication is affecting his appetite, or if he's in too much pain from his surgery despite the medication. Maybe he's just nervous because my schedule has changed in the last few days and he isn't sure what's happening. Maybe when I chose to move his food bowl over by his bed so he wouldn't have to walk so far, that threw him off. In this case, "Why" isn't that great an offense, because I'm still talking about a living mammal with a working brain, who can make decisions in some way. Dante is an agent who can have reasons for his actions. When I ask "Why" about something more abstract, the question loses the usefulness of an agent, but I'm still begging the question by implying agency.

Say I ask a child's question about the world, "Why does the sun shine?"* It's no wonder we have this stereotype of the repetitive "Why" from children. Any sensible, useful answer will give a description of nuclear physics and gravity, and it should be little surprise that this answer will often be met with, "Why does it work that way?" This is a perfectly valid question, in that theoretical physicists pursue the underlying laws of nature by asking it, but science escapes from the question of "Why" by looking at "How" and "In what way?"

"Why" gives a Mindy-like infinite regress when we examine nature, because there is no agent. There is no dog deciding not to eat for a reason, and physics are not a rule book. "Why" leads us to think that the laws of physics are the way they are for a reason. Why is there something rather than nothing? That's a nonsense question, because you can't even show that nothing is an option. Why are the laws of physics the way they are? They are a description of processes that we have made through observation and testing, not a constitution of reality we all have to obey. "Why" holds the hidden assumption of agency, and even when there is an agent, it's probably not the question you want answered.

It's not just the interpretation of the grand scale of reality where "Why" falls apart. I see it every day in retail. Here are two recent conversations, one with one of my employees, one with a customer.

Scenario 1 - This took place over the radio. "Alice" was at the register while I was in the office doing paperwork.

Alice: Can I have a manager to the front? I have a rewards card that doesn't come up by email, but when I look it up by phone number, I get a card number different from the card the customer has. That card has the same email I tried to look up. Why is the card doing that?


Me: That's not something we can fix in the store. That has to be a database error. The customer probably tried to merge two accounts online and screwed something up.


Alice: Why would there be two cards with the same email?


Me: Because computers aren't perfect, and computer users are even less perfect. I have no idea. Just give the customer the 800 number for customer service.


Alice: Can you come up to the register and explain to the customer why this is happening?


Me: No. I have no idea why. Because something screwed up in the card database. I wasn't there when it was screwed up, so I have no possible way of answering that question. Besides, the answer won't fix anything. Just give them the phone number, because if I come up there, all I'll do is give them the phone number. I can't fix it here.

Scenario 2 - This time, I was on register. A customer was buying a pack of Magic: the Gathering cards.

Customer: Why are your cards so expensive?


Kyle: I've never seen them any cheaper than this. Where did you see a lower price?


Customer: I dunno, I just wonder why you charge so much for them.


Kyle: Um...because that's the price we set on them. I don't know what you really want to know here. The price is set by the corporate office based on how much they cost us.


Customer: I just don't like paying so much.

In neither of those conversations was "Why" the question they wanted answered. The only relevant information in the first one was "How can I fix this?" There is no why. The reason that something was broken was that someone or something broke it. Was it done on purpose? Highly doubtful, since that would benefit no one and hurt all parties involved. If not on purpose, it was either a human accident or a computing accident, both of which are meaningless as "why" answers. Without deliberate agency, the ultimate answer is "Because." Useless!

In the second conversation, the customer didn't really even want an answer to a question. He just wanted to spend less money on his game, but knew he couldn't. He was even using a coupon to make the cards cheaper than the list price, so there was no real reason for complaint, except that he probably spends a lot of money on those cards (I remember the days...).

"Why" is just a surrogate for other thoughts, other questions, other complaints. Unless you're talking about intelligent agency with deliberate intent, it is not only meaningless, it's counterproductive. Think before you ask why. It probably won't give you what you're looking for. If you don't know what you're looking for, then you should definitely think before you ask anything at all.




*Spot my hidden assumption in that sentence for bonus points.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Bad Universe, episode 3


There is a conceit in movies that always irritates me: the audience surrogate character. His whole purpose is to comment on how cool or how scary the events are as they happen. The best (worst?) example I can think of is Link. In the Matrix Reloaded, he's the operator on the computers during the big freeway chase, and his whole job is to look scared so the audience knows This Is Serious Fight, and to cheer when the heroes pull out an impossible win, presumably so that the audience knows that the writers would like you to feel thrilled now please thanks. That kind of writing is cheap, like sucking on a greasy coin or cribbing lines from Hannibal.

As a writing technique, it's awful, but being an audience surrogate can be a truly great thing in one place: education. I just watched Phil Plait's Bad Universe on Discovery, the last of three episodes testing the waters for audience interest. Discovery Channel, if you're listening, the waters are just fine. In a scene about solar coronal events, the Bad Astronomer shows a demonstration of chain reactions that I've seen before, where ping pong balls are set on mousetraps to make a violent cascade of springing traps and balls, then he shouts with glee, “That's so cool!” as if the audience needs to be told.

Here's why Phil Plait is different from Link: the audience for science really does need to be told.

We need to know how cool science is, and how to recognize what is science and what is nonsense. In education, it isn't bad writing to have an audience surrogate because it's real. He is that excited, and he wants us to be that excited too. Having someone clapping on screen and laughing for us allows us to clap along and agree. The intro to the show talks about destruction and debunking, yet it could not have a more positive message, and telling the audience when to cheer really helps.

Think about this show. It's all about what's dangerous in the universe, and how it can kill us, with little excursions on how some of these things can be prevented. The preventative portion of the show is ostensibly the positive bit, except that the answer often seems to be that either it's impossible to prevent the problem or that we've just never invested in the solution. This show about inevitable destruction and extinction is played with such undeniable fun and excitement. The best news is often, “We don't have a good answer for that yet.” To present galactic-scale problems with unknown or incomplete solutions in an exciting and excited way is certain to draw new minds to the world of science.

Bad Universe sits somewhere between Mythbusters and Cosmos, for what appear to be soundly strategic reasons. Showing passion for science like the dignified Carl Sagan really ought to be enough, in a perfect world, but let's be real here. To draw people in, you need to blow something up at least once per episode. I want to complain that the papier-maché supernova wasn't really that accurate a model, in the same way that I sometimes want to complain that a Mythbusters stunt didn't use experimental controls that made sense, but I just can't do it. I can't.

There are enough CG effects in the episode that clearly they could have gotten away with a CG supernova to demonstrate a dying star's destructive power, but they chose fun over accuracy. A computer model would have shown the audience exactly how it all works, but blowing up a paper ball with dynamite is just better. I do computer animation myself, and I can't clap for a CG supernova (much as I'd like to animate one just for its own kind of personal fun). I can clap along and laugh for that stupid paper bomb though.

Discovery Channel, please give this man a camera and more dynamite, immediately.

“What sort of evidence would you accept?”


There are a great number of things I don't believe. Discussions about these with people who do believe tend toward a familiar impasse. They can't understand my rejection of their beliefs, and I can't understand their definition of evidence. Eventually it comes to this question. This is one of a few questions I hate, the worst of which is “Why?” but more on that another day.

Whenever someone asks me “What sort of evidence would you accept?” I find myself giving a clumsily qualified answer in order not to sound unreasonable. The things I disbelieve lack evidence that meets any useful definition of the word evidence. That's the primary reason that I disbelieve. In most cases, there really is evidence, and it all says no. Trying to explain that dimension to this problem leaves the believer with the impression that I'm dismissing their evidence unfairly. I asked for evidence, and they brought me some! How can I say they don't have any evidence? It's right there! OK, true believers, to make sense of this failure to communicate, I take you to a court room in session.

Judge: Is the defense prepared to enter a plea?

Defense Attorney: I'm sorry Your Honor, but I don't know what's going on here. We don't have a client.

Judge: What are you talking about? State vs. Credence Woo, I've got the papers right here. Where's the defendant?

Defense Attorney: Seriously, Your Honor, we've been trying to figure this out for a while now. There doesn't seem to be anyone named Credence Woo. Honestly, we're not even sure how the DA managed to bring this case in the first place.

Prosecuting Attorney: That's ridiculous! We have sworn affidavits that he murdered three people in broad daylight.

Defense Attorney: We've looked through those as well. None of them agree about the facts of the case, and anyway, they aren't sworn affidavits. They're anonymous descriptions. One of them seems to be mostly plagiarized off another, with a few contradictory additions.

Judge: How are we even having a trial if the defendant doesn't exist?

Prosecuting Attorney: He does! There's plenty of other evidence. Haven't you seen the photographs?

Defense Attorney: Those aren't photographs. They're drawings. And they don't even look particularly similar to one another. Oh, except that one, but that's a photo of Brad Pitt that's been Photoshopped quite badly. Anyway, that's not even the real problem. We can't even confirm that this murder actually took place at all. We do know that two of the victims named in the case did exist and are dead, but as far as we can discover, they died several years apart in different states, not at the mall downtown two months ago. On top of that, the prosecution's proposed method of murder is physically impossible.

Prosecuting Attorney: No it's not. Look, if you understand quantum mechanics, you'll see that--

Judge: OK, I'm just going to stop you right there. If I don't let you finish that sentence, it will remain in a state of superposition, so there's a 50% chance it's not bullshit. It can be Schroedinger's argument, both bullshit and not bullshit until an observer collapses it into nonsense. Now someone please tell me what we're doing here if there's no defendant and no confirmed murder.

Defense Attorney: Actually we did find evidence of a murder at the mall on that day, Your Honor. Well, it was near the mall, and took place very early in the morning. There were four victims, not three, none of them the ones named in this case, and it looks like it was done by a small group, not a single person. Tragic, but it looks like an interesting case, and no one is currently investigating it except us.

Prosecuting Attorney: No, stop dismissing me! You're just not looking at the evidence. You need to keep an open mind and really dig into the evidence I've got here.

Judge: I'm getting the impression you don't understand what evidence is. Are you even familiar with standards of evidence?

Prosecuting Attorney: Fine then. What sort of evidence would you accept?

Judge: At this point, you've demonstrated that you don't know how evidence works. There is zero real evidence in favor of your case, and the defense has uncovered a different case that you're not working on. That seems irresponsibly close to obstruction of justice if you're letting someone else get away with murder in favor of this nonsense. I'm going to throw out this whole case as a mistrial. You would not only have to bring good evidence in favor of your case, but now you would have to find evidence that contradicts confirmed facts that we've already established. Case dismissed.


If it helps you to interpret who is analogically who here, I'm the Judge. I'll let you figure out the rest.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Video Series

I've taken down an old post that previewed a video I was working on. This is not to say that I'm no longer working on it, but the project has grown a little more ambitious. I'm now making it a series of short videos tentatively entitled "Not Enough Science." They will cover science basics that are frequently misunderstood or poorly taught. Skeptically minded folks will recognize them as the kind of things that get thrown out as spurious arguments by the badly uninformed. Episode one will be a slightly altered version of my original idea, and will cover thermodynamics. Until the basic animation assets are finished, expect infrequent posts.

However, I am looking for anyone who would like to fact-check my science. It would be a shame for me to cause the very problem I'm hoping to solve, wouldn't it?

Friday, March 4, 2011

The Wife of Bath Explains Why Logic Doesn't Work on Creationists



There is an irreconcilable difference in ways of thinking between religious and skeptical minds. There is also a false dichotomy in the opening sentence of this post, but ignore it for a minute. Geoffrey Chaucer's Wife of Bath also has nothing to do with evolution, but ignore that too.

I'm only using gap-toothed Alys because she's a medieval character whose tale most English-speaking people have read and studied enough to function as a good example. In her prologue and tale, she engages in some philosophical warfare on a topic that is no longer often argued. We fight proxy wars now over specific issues, but a little deeper down, our culture still struggles between the powers of auctoritee and experience.

"Experience, though noon auctoritee
Were in this world, were right ynough to me
To speke of wo that is in mariage."

Go get your Middle English dictionaries out. She's talking about the power and primacy of two opposing sources of knowledge. Auctoritee isn't just authority; it's received knowledge. Throughout her time at center stage, the Wife of Bath attacks the idea of auctoritee in favor of experience. The clergymen and more pious pilgrims are infuriated by her, and it's not just because a woman is speaking up (though that's an undeniable part of the scene). She is making the case that her experience, her vast, repeatedly tested experience, is a better source of information and truth than the authoritarian canon.

It's easy to look at creationist arguments and pick out logical fallacies. Often it's not even necessary to refute their awful lack of basic science comprehension (oh, by the way, the animation is still coming, but I'm making changes first), because the entire argument rests on ad hominem attacks and arguments from authority. Then, a few minutes later, when your forehead is sore from banging against the brick wall, it's equally easy to throw up your hands in frustration that "Logic doesn't work on these people!"

What's more difficult is to see how that mind works. Creationists don't keep trotting out logically fallacious arguments because they are so intellectually dishonest that they are willing to continue relying on an argument they know is wrong. Their entire position rests on the philosophical assumption that authority and received knowledge are superior to logic. The fact that an argument from authority is a logical fallacy is completely irrelevant. To a mind that relies on auctoritee, the fact that logic declares auctoritee fallacious is proof that logic is inferior. Logic negates its own reliability by excluding the one source of truth that must be reliable.

I used the phrase "religious and skeptical minds" earlier, and I chose the word "minds" deliberately, rather than the word "people." Even an otherwise skeptical person can and will take things on faith, compartmentalizing a lapse of pure logic from the rest of his thought. Even the Wife of Bath struggled with this. Though she presented an attack on auctoritee, throughout her prologue and tale, she cited (though often by misquoting) classical authoritarian sources to support her supposedly purely experience- and evidence-based argument. The combination is effective, if not strictly rational or consistent. After all, far more students read the Wife's tale than the Pardoner's.

If you make a stand for evidence against authority, expect those religious minds to object, but don't ever forget that they are not playing by the same rules.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Face it, your facts deceive you.

Fact has no good antonym. Lie is a fine word, but it carries more than just a suggestion of intent. When someone lies, he's not doing it on accident. An accidental lie is just a misconception, but misconception is weak. It suggests a simple misunderstanding that can just be corrected. A fact has a foundation that can't be pushed aside as easily as that.

So, to fix this hole in the English language, I propose a new word. A faceit is an item of knowledge held to be fact in spite of a consensus of verifiable evidence to the contrary, an alleged event or circumstance with no observational evidence, often used as a foundational fact in constructing a larger incorrect view. Although a person may be aware that their larger position is disputed, they will generally be unaware of most of the specific faceits underlying that position.

By this definition, for example, homeopathy is too complex to be called a faceit, but the "Law of Similars" and the amazing properties of water do qualify. Astrology isn't a faceit; it's nonsense. It is a faceit that my birthday of July 6 makes me a Cancer. Creationists hold fewer faceits than you might expect; they're wrong mostly for other reasons. I'll save that discussion for later though.

People should be more aware of their underlying assumptions. If less of them were made up, I wouldn't have to make up words to describe them.