Belief

"Do you believe in evolution?"

No.

But let me rephrase the question:

"Do you believe that the theory of evolution is currently the best way to explain the data?"

Why, yes I do. Thanks for asking!

You can believe in a whole lot of things. You can believe in yourself, in the inherent goodness of humanity, in God, in your friends, in ghosts. If you live in Baltimore, you can just Believe. But it makes no sense to believe IN a scientific theory, or to assume that others do so. Sometimes people may say they believe in evolution and mean they believe the theory fits the data, but sometimes people are sloppy with their language and should know better. It makes no more sense to believe in evolution than it does to believe in electromagnetism.

It may seem like I'm making a minor point here - okay yes, I am, it's what I do - but what I'm getting at is that failing to make this distinction is the cause of a lot of the perceived conflict between science and religion. Believing in something is like having faith, and no one can take that away from you. But evolutionary biologists don't have faith that the theory of evolution is correct - they have data. The key thing about this kind of "science belief" is that new data can prove the theory wrong, thus changing beliefs about how well the theory works. The "faith beliefs" can change too, i.e. I can believe in the goodness of humanity but change my mind when faced with traumatic events; however, "the goodness of humanity" is not a testable theory. It would be odd to believe in a chair, but it is reasonable to believe that a chair exists (perhaps because you are sitting on it). This is what I mean by science belief: it connects a theory to data in an objective way.

A better way to phrase the distinction might be justified vs. unjustified belief. Scientific beliefs are (mostly) justified by data, i.e. they are empirical. Justification can also be rational, i.e. without recourse to data but appealing to logic. Unjustified beliefs can be based on intuition, or on preference (believing something because you want it to be true); or, like religious belief, they could be based on profound personal experiences. They are both legitimate types of belief and we all have them.

Now, you might think that justified beliefs are more strongly held and unjustified beliefs are easier to change. To the contrary, justified beliefs are far more adaptable - the data may change, your reasoning may be shown to be false - and I think most of the time we make no distinction between these types of belief in our own heads. There are just things we know, and we do not constantly ask ourselves how we know them. But the distinction matters. Unjustified beliefs are much harder to change.

To me, believing in something is like having faith in something without empirical or rational justification. And this is exactly why I hate the question, "Do you believe in evolution?"  It is like asking, "Do you believe in gravity?" I'm not floating into space, so, yes? But Newtonian gravity is wrong on cosmological scales, so no? Or did you mean relativistic gravity? What are you talking about?! It is a meaningless question.

Part of the deal of abandoning certainty is a commitment to questioning your beliefs. This gets tedious. Humans are not designed to do this. But, it is irrational to believe, contrary to the data, that humans are rational beings. Being uncertain is uncomfortable, thus abandoning certainty means valuing the truth above personal comfort. Many people place utmost value in concepts like goodness or justice, or in increasing well-being for themselves and others. But valuing truth means asking, "What is good? What is well-being?" and being okay with not knowing the answer. Valuing truth means avoiding untruths most of all. And now that I've slipped from epistemology to morality and totally derailed myself, here's an apt quote from Dune:

My father once told me that respect for the truth comes close to being the basis for all morality. "Something cannot emerge from nothing," he said. This is profound thinking if you understand how unstable "the truth" can be.

- Frank Herbert, Dune

I've recently discovered (in the past months or year) that I seem to place a high value in the truth, and I find myself thinking, when I disagree with something on the internet (like ALL THE TIME), "Well, they just don't value truth as much as I do." (Wow, that sounds pretty arrogant after writing it out loud... no one thinks to themselves, "I don't care what is true! La la la la!" Probably. But that's not what I mean...) Perhaps not valuing truth as much means they are less wary of the instability of "truth" or more trusting of sources of information. But whenever someone posts something and comments, "This is unbelievable!!!!!!" I always want to respond, "Then maybe you shouldn't believe it? And also maybe calm down with the exclamation marks a bit?"

Another way people may not "value truth as much" is when there's a disagreement; they may get defensive or take it personally because not having any perceived conflict is more important than hashing out the issues; or, having their opinions heard is more important than finding out whether these opinions conform to reality. I'm not making judgments here; these values are all valid. Part of the difference in what people value may be temperament. Personally, not only am I a professional scientist, but in my free time I read about psychology, epistemology, neuroscience, and other things that address why we believe what we believe and how we know what we know. So, I value truth highly, and others may not, and that's okay.

Getting back to the justified vs. unjustified types of belief... I think it's fair to say that justified belief is more trustworthy. Justification should be found for unjustified beliefs whenever possible, and basic assumptions, facts, and motivations that underlie belief checked often. But, though I value truth, I recognize that some belief can never be justified; further, these unjustified beliefs address some of the most profound and beautiful aspects of human existence.

This distinction is often discussed in terms of the conflict between science and religion. For example, no empirical data can address the question of God's existence, and though there may be reasoned arguments, surely very few people believe in God because they were convinced by the Kalam Cosmological Argument; it is rather something they know, because they have faith. Acting as if data or logic has anything to do with spirituality is a good way for atheists to completely miss the point and convince no one (as if convincing were a worthwhile endeavor, which it is not).

On the other hand, ignoring the overwhelming justification of a scientific theory because it conflicts with unjustified religious belief is a good way to bring the progress of society to a screeching halt. The error lies in failing to recognize those aspects which are justifiable - those which come into contact with data - and failing to separate them from questions of value, rightness, love, spirituality, etc.

Stephen Jay Gould has famously referred to science and religion as "non-overlapping magisteria," such that science deals with questions of fact and religion with morality and meaning. I may have agreed at one time, but now it is obvious to me that of course they overlap! Most religions have in their dogma explicit questions of fact; science, being a human endeavor, is not immune from questions of morality and meaning, and of course religion does not have a monopoly on morality and meaning in the first place. It seems "science" and "religion" are not the correct terms, and I don't know what the correct terms are, which may be why this blog post has been in draft form for years. I guess I will have to live with the uncertainty.

It is one of the triumphs of the human that he can know a thing and still not believe it.

- John Steinbeck, East of Eden

Puzzle

Okay, I admit it. I had back problems after softball, so I'm officially old. So I can admit to you that I bought a jigsaw puzzle. I had no choice, because my others are in storage. I have so far completed it twice. I love it.

Okay again, the whole "I'm old and have a jigsaw puzzle" schtick is a bit disingenuous.... I have always loved jigsaw puzzles, and many young people probably would feel unashamed to admit that. Maybe it's a cool hipster thing to like jigsaw puzzles now?

But it feels like a paradigm shift to me... like there's a time in your life, when you're not a kid and you're not "old," in which you're not supposed to be doing a jigsaw puzzle by yourself on the weekend. I'm definitely not a kid, so I must have transitioned to the third phase of my life, in which it's okay again for me to enjoy a jigsaw puzzle. I might as well get a cat. I hate cats.

I remember doing jigsaw puzzles with family at both sets of grandparents' houses. And I remember the story about how I was told I was too young, but I picked up a piece and put it in the right place anyway. I placed the piece just so. Maybe I enjoy it because I think I'm good at it. Maybe I'm human.

Obviously you start with the edges. In physics we'd call it boundary conditions, but the meaning is the same. You have a problem to solve, so first you need to define where the problem begins and where it ends. With puzzles, that becomes your first sorting problem: find the edge pieces; frame your question.

After that, it all depends, on the picture, and on taste. Sort a second time to pick out similar pieces. Be as efficient as you like. Flip all or some of the pieces over, and make any number of piles. This begins the creative part of puzzling. Use some combination of image and shape to put this piece, there.

One of my favorite things is picking a random piece, looking at the box, and deciding exactly where that piece goes. It may be all alone, but it has a place; it is in its place.

You can't impose your preconceptions on the pieces. Whatever way you hold it is choosing one out of the four possible orientations. What you are convinced belongs to this tree turns out to go in that bush. The sky is a good place to lose preconceptions. Faced with seamless shades of blue-white, you pay attention to details of brush stroke, subtle color gradients, size and curve of corners.... the sky is tedious until you can elevate your awareness of subtle differences. In this it is like a meditation.

Of course there is also the tactile sensation of clicking a piece onto its buddies. Doing a puzzle on anything other than a hard surface is barely even worth it. Grabbing the edges of a finished puzzle, picking it up, and bending it like a stiff piece of paper before destroying it is fun too.

Finishing a puzzle is both the best and worst part.

Flatland

What is the point of this blog post? Besides the obvious pun, which will become clear to you in a moment, I'm not really sure what the point of posting this quotation is, except that I found it interesting and compelling. I guess I will just write and we'll find the point together.

Near the end of Flatland, by E. A. Abbott, the Sphere is showing the Square (who has already witnessed visions of Lineland and Spaceland) the being, and entirety, of Pointland:

"Behold yon miserable creature. The Point is a Being like ourselves, but confined to the non-dimensional Gulf. He is himself his own World, his own Universe; of any other than himself he can form no conception; he knows not Length, nor Breadth, nor Height, for he has had no experience of them; he has no cognizance even of the number Two; nor has he a thought of Plurality; for he is himself his One and All, being really Nothing. Yet mark his perfect self-contentment, and hence learn this lesson, that to be self-contented is to be vile and ignorant, and that to aspire is better than to be blindly and impotently happy. Now listen."

(Italics mine.) The first set of italics I found profound in a Zen kind of way. In Pointland, one, everything, and nothing are all the same. Let's just sit with that for a moment.

...

...

...

Got it? Everything is nothing, and nothing is everything.

Now to the mathematics... does a point even exist? How can an infinitesimally small thing, which has no extent in either of our three spatial dimensions, be said to exist? How can it be extant with no extent, as it were? We can write down a lot of things mathematically, like infinity, for example, that are useful to solve problems about the real universe but don't actually exist themselves. How can infinity carry any ontological weight? There are an infinite number of numbers between any two numbers, sure, but numbers are abstractions; they are not real things in the real world, but instead they are properties of things in the world. Similarly, a point is a mathematical abstraction - a way to specify this number exactly - but a thing can't be a point, can it? We would have to know its location to infinite precision (and as I've said, it would have zero extent).

Points are difficult for physics. Zeros and infinities make black holes, which tear apart the very fabric of space and time. Singularities (like black holes) are a sign that something is wrong with our theories or that they are incomplete. The embarrassment of naked black holes is covered up with event horizons, which hide the awkward theoretical rip in space-time. But it is interesting to me, in a very Zen way, how zero and infinity are reciprocals of each other - divide by zero to get infinity, and divide by infinity to get zero. They are inverses, so in some way they're the same - zero is infinity, just viewed upside-down. Everything is nothing.


The second set of italics above, "to aspire is better than to be blindly and impotently happy," is interesting for a completely different reason. Here is the Point making a very profound (to me) point about existence, and yet the higher-dimensional beings call him vile and ignorant. His happiness is a reflection of his ignorance of the higher dimensions (or really any dimensions at all), and this is obviously to be scorned. In some ways I sympathize; the Point is certain that he knows all there is to know, by virtue of being his entire Universe, so while we can't exactly blame him, he is completely and utterly wrong. He hears the Square speak, and thinks it his own thoughts. Being wrong is uncomfortable, but I value the attempt at being right (the aspiration for knowledge, not knowledge itself) more than being ignorant, certain, and blissful.

And yet:

"Infinite beatitude of existence! It is; and there is none else beside It. It fills all Space," continued the little soliloquizing Creature, "and what It fills, It is. What It thinks, that It utters; and what It utters, that It hears; and It itself is Thinker, Utterer, Hearer, Thought, Word, Audition; it is the One, and yet the All in All. Ah, the happiness ah, the happiness of Being!"

 Ah indeed, the happiness of Being. What an intriguing and enticing ignorance!
 

Inspirational

You know those inspirational messages that pop up on social media? Sometimes they're a quotation from a semi-famous person, sometimes just a sentence or phrase, and your friend seems to think they contain wisdom worth sharing. Sometimes they're your friend's own wisdom they came up with themselves. Well, I've come up with one that pretty much sums up them all. No further inspirational messages need to be shared, now that we have this:

Whenever I see a message like this, some or all of these thoughts go through my head:

• That is trivial and meaningless.
• That is not even good advice.
• STOP TELLING ME HOW TO BE!
• I guess some people get inspiration from this... why do I hate everything?

I don't want to come up with specific examples because I don't want to pick on anyone. Seriously, if you get little happy neurons to fire in your brain because you feel like you understand something about life and you want to cement this feeling of "getting it" by sharing it with your friends... believe me, I understand what that's like. Have you read my blog?

But I stop myself all the time from posting little snippets of "wisdom" because I eventually think they are just as trivial, or not good advice for some reason or other, or because I don't want to tell people how to be. (And I hate everything.) As if I could get people to think more critically about the world just by telling them to.

For example, when I see trivial nonsense like the above, I want to say, "But it's human to do or feel bad things, so stop beating yourself up about it! Good and bad are meaningless social constructions anyway! What's important is to do what you do and feel what you feel! But that is just as meaningless, so don't listen to me, please carry on with your life!" So instead I say nothing.

I think most of the reason this stuff bothers me is because I don't think we need to be telling each other what's the right way to think or feel or act. There is no right way to think or feel or act. We need to stop giving each other advice and focus on understanding each other better. But of course, that is itself advice on the right way to be. I can't win!

Fuck it.

DO OR FEEL GOOD THINGS, everyone.

Eat, Drink, and Be Meriadoc

In the beginning there was Eru, the One, and he created the Ainur, and they made the world with their song. And then, some considerable time later, during the Fourth Age, someone posted this link on Facebook. And I knew that I had just been witness to The Greatest Idea Ever: a Lord of the Rings movie marathon hobbit feast. I knew I had all three extended editions of LOTR at Mom's, and that I would soon be there myself; and I knew that we would be watching the 2nd Hobbit film, and that I would again try to read The Hobbit to my nephew - which, given how little I see him and how quickly he falls asleep, is going to take FOREVER. Therefore I emailed my family and said "Make It So." And it was.

I'm sure my loyal readers need no assurance of my Tolkien Geek Cred. As the great link says, food is very important in Tolkien's world, a fact of which I'm well aware. Obviously food is important to the Hobbits, but as a theme it appears in very many places throughout both Bilbo's and Frodo's adventures. Whenever there is a respite from the toils of the road, there is a description of plain and simple food that makes "a loaf with honey and cream" sound like the most delicious thing ever. And when Frodo and Sam make it to Ithilien and Sam finally gets to use his pots and cook a brace of conies, and in the movie they never get a chance to eat it!, I just weep, knowing how starving they are and will be.

Sure, Mordor is terrible and the ring is a heavy burden, but having no food to get you there? How can a hobbit hope to go on?

Here follows an account of The Great Feast of 2014, in which we were too full and tired to even bother with the last course and skipped straight to dessert. We accompanied the food with (if I remember correctly) a sampler of New Belgium ales, red wine, and sherry. We couldn't find any decent mead, but at least we tried.

First Breakfast - 8am

Blackberry tarts from Bree. As the recipe says,

There was hot soup, cold meats, a blackberry tart, new loaves, slabs of butter and half a ripe cheese: good plain food, as good as the Shire could show.

Though I probably didn't put enough sugar in these, and the blackberries never quite liquified like I thought they would, the tarts were perfect and I want one now.

Second Breakfast - 9am, start FOTR

 

Fried eggs, tomatoes, crispy bacon, and ham. There is no recipe for this because who needs a recipe for this? I know how to fry an egg. Also, I'm assuming you all know what LOTR, FOTR, TTT, and ROTK mean because I expect a minimum of intelligence from my readers.

Elevenses - 11am

Elven Lembas Bread. This was the hit of the day. My nephew literally could not stop talking about it, and not being able to say "lembas" did not stop him.

Luncheon - 1pm, start TTT

Mushroom Soup from the Inn at Bree. Barliman really knows his cooking and apparently has access to a blender or food processor.

Afternoon Tea - 3pm

Lavender & Lemon Muffins, served with Portsmouth tea. The lemon extract we found in Mom's cupboard was probably less than 20 years old and totally okay to use.

Dinner - 5pm, start ROTK

 

Roast Mutton for the Trolls, with Shire pudding. (Get it? Yorkshire pudding??) OMG delicious. I'd never made yorkshire pudding before, and I decided it was like pancakes cooked in meat drippings. Lovely.

 

Supper - 7pm 

 

Daddy Twofoot's Eggplant Parm. There are no pictures because we never got around to this, plus we were at least an hour behind schedule. And since the 7th meal is technically outside the cannon, being part of the movie and not part of the books, we didn't feel obligated to follow our delicious lamb with some cheesy vegetables. Instead we went on to....

Dessert

We made ten cup ranger cookies, mostly because I really liked the description, "for Rangers in the field who only have one measuring cup with them." At this point we were done with pictures, so instead here's my niece, who had fun getting in our faces and messing with our food.

A new/old supernova/star is born/dead

If this were a science blog, I would be all over the discovery of a Type Ia Supernova in a very nearby galaxy. I mean, I used to work on Supernovae Ia! Though the ones I studied were admittedly very far away... and though they were admittedly only simulated, i.e. not real at all... well, after I simulated them I treated them as real... but what does "real" even mean in this sense? How are data points from a "real" supernova different than data points from a simulated one? What is the ontology of simulation?

Where was I?

Oh yes, that's right: "Woohoo! This is a cool thing for science!" is something I would be saying if this were a science blog. I would talk about how close the supernova is, using analogies that would help you understand how something incredibly far away is practically next door on the scale of THE UNIVERSE. (It's so close the galaxy is a Messier object, M82, with a name, the "Cigar Galaxy.") But others are doing that. I'm more interested in how contemplating the scale of THE UNIVERSE can make us feel simultaneously very small and very important.

I mean, we, as human beings, are already an unimaginably small dot on the Earth which is incredibly tiny compared to our Sun, not to mention the vast emptiness of space that separates the Earth from the Sun, which, cosmologically speaking, is practically buzzing with debris and not empty at all... and of course, cosmologically speaking, the Sun doesn't even register as an infinitesimally small speck in a mediocre galaxy in the unfathomable hugeness of space. It takes light a mere 8 minutes to reach us from the Sun, but light from this new supernova has been traveling to us for 11.4 million years! And it is a nearby event! The star died 11.4 million years ago, and the supernova explosion marking its death happens on the scale of a month. And here we are to observe it, sitting on our planet in a nearby galaxy, focusing our prisms and mirrors on this awesome event, cozy with our blankets and hot chocolate (stay warm, USA) in the knowledge that our Sun won't die on us for at least another 5 billion years.

I might talk about how the news is making some of my colleagues as excited as kids in a candy shop. There is so much astrophysical data and in so many colors! (That is an Astronomy joke, by the way. Feel free to laugh.) And I would show some pretty pictures, if this were a science blog, for sure. Wait, I can still do that... hold on... there:

From Astronomy Picture of the Day; Image Credit & Copyright: Adam Block, Mt. Lemmon SkyCenter, U. Arizona

If this were a science blog, I could talk about how it's so bright, and getting brighter still, that anyone with access to clear skies and small telescopes can see this new point of light for themselves. But others are doing that too. And I'd rather imagine what it might be like, looking through an eyepiece up into the sky at a dying star in another galaxy... sure, the image itself might not be spectacular, but knowing what it is brings so much more.

I have a small telescope, and I've seen Jupiter and its moons. But without that knowledge, all you can see is a smallish dot with a few smaller dots around it sort of along a straight line, and if you're lucky, the biggest smallish dot has some dark lines across it. The experience is less meaningful if you don't know that you're looking at another planet, which is very big and very far away. I don't mean knowing the names of Jupiter and its moons, or how far away they are, or any details like that, is important... but looking at Jupiter, or this new supernova, without knowing its place in the pattern is like seeing a puzzle piece without any picture on it - basically, meaningless. And that is the magic of learning, and of science - turning a bunch of pieces of a puzzle into a beautiful picture, or even an ugly picture when you get down to it, but a picture nonetheless of something you understand. I would even say that understanding by itself is beautiful, and that understanding something ugly turns it into something beautiful - not beautiful in the sense of aesthetically pleasing, but in a larger meaning - whole and right and beautiful. Of course, I can say all of that because this isn't a science blog.

If it were, I would talk about how this particular type of supernova was responsible for the discovery that the expansion of the universe is accelerating, and how this messes with our understanding of cosmology in a fundamental way. Actually, I might write about that one day... but this supernova is so close, it's unlikely to answer those fundamental questions.

What I would really talk about, if this were a science blog, is how this particular type of supernova is responsible for the creation of all heavy elements, without which life as we know it would not be possible. You may have heard that "we are made of star stuff" because of the creation of all elements heavier than Helium (and trace Lithium) in the nuclear furnaces of stellar cores. (Or you might have heard that "if you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the Universe.") But all elements heavier than iron (and most of the iron) can only be created in the special conditions of a stellar death - the massive energy of a star collapsing in on itself and exploding in a supernova. Of course, I would check all of my facts before saying things like that, if this were a science blog.

I would focus on the creation of heavy elements because this supernova is the perfect metaphor for the un-metaphorizable, the awe and the awesome, the "Tao" or "Brahman" or "whatever, none of that is real" or whatever you want to call it. It is creation and destruction at once: the creation of the possibility for life, as the elements in its ejecta travel out to one day find their way into new stars of their own - or possibly into the planets around that star and eventually the life on those planets; but also, it is the destruction of the possibility for life as the death of a life-giving star itself. In order for there to be life, there has to be death, in the heavens as it is on Earth.

Amen.

Working While Sick

Sometimes when you're at work and trying to focus on the task at hand, your body has other plans for you. You might have a cold or a hangover and find it hard to concentrate, but since it's not a "real" sickness you stick it out as long as you can... you just drink water and hold off until you can go home and nap because you don't want to take sick time or because missing work due to a hangover is too shameful to imagine.

But for some of us (approximately half), our bodies sometimes sabotage us while at work in another way, not a cold or hangover or depression, that in addition to not feeling like a "real" sickness worth going home for, going home would feel like betraying decades of struggle for gender equality in the workplace.

Of course I'm talking about menstrual cramps.

What to do when you get bad cramps at work? I've come up with a few options:

1. Do drugs. (OTC painkiller)
2. Eat chocolate and pretend it also works as a painkiller.
3. Take a walk until it gets better.
4. Take a walk to find some drugs.
5. Take a walk to your house and stay there.
6. Suck it up and pretend you can still do meaningful work because women can do anything men do including write coherent emails while bleeding painfully from the inside.

Today, not having number 1, I tried number 2 and contemplated 3 through 5 until it passed, which means I successfully carried out number 6. I've done number 5 in the past but there is always the guilt.

I absolutely cannot stand when women are referred to as "the weaker sex." I mean sure, on average men have greater strength and muscle mass, but just because they can - on average - bench press more seems a pretty narrow criterion with which to define a whole gender as weaker. And then I get bad cramps and think, "well damn, this would be quite a disadvantage if I was being attacked by a mountain lion right now" or "if I was out hunting wildebeast" or whatever prehistoric men used their muscle mass for... it was probably for fighting other prehistoric men, but anyway.... my point is, it feels like Nature is trying to remind me that women were intended to be weaker whenever my uterus punches my insides.

Obviously I think it would be better if all sicknesses were treated equally. For anything that makes it impossible for someone to work productively - with the possible exception of the hangover because you only did that to yourself - it should be up to that person how to deal with it, whether they go home, nap on a workplace couch, cry in the bathroom, take a walk, or stick it out and pretend nothing is happening.

Personally, I would suggest having some dark chocolate, because it is possible it also works as a painkiller and may have other curative properties.

Disclaimer: As an academic I can pretty much do what I want, so I don't really know what the constraints are in a real workplace setting when you have a "not quite sickness." This is another reason why science wins.