…Or Are You Just Glad To See Me?

Yellowstone Has Bulged as Magma Pocket Swells” — headline, National Geographic, January 19

Grassroots Movement

One-third of Zimbabwe registered voters are dead” — headline, TheStar.com, January 21

Steyn On Decline

In today’s New York Times we learn that President Obama, to his credit, recently made clear to President Hu Jintao that if China would not do more to contain North Korea, the USA would have no choice but to increase its military presence in the region. China has, in response, made a few helpful gestures.

Our leverage, however, is limited at best, as Mark Steyn points out in a pungent new article that’s been making the rounds.

The New Criterion article, which is about the accelerating dissolution of the English-speaking nations, begins with a frank summary of the economic full-Nelson that China has applied to the USA:

Decline starts with the money. It always does. As Jonathan Swift put it:

A baited banker thus desponds,
From his own hand foresees his fall,
They have his soul, who have his bonds;
’Tis like the writing on the wall.

Today the people who have America’s bonds are not the people one would wish to have one’s soul. As Madhav Nalapat has suggested, Beijing believes a half-millennium Western interregnum is about to come to an end, and the world will return to Chinese dominance. I think they’re wrong on the latter, but right on the former. Within a decade, the United States will be spending more of the federal budget on its interest payments than on its military.

According to the cbo’s 2010 long-term budget outlook, by 2020 the U.S. government will be paying between 15 and 20 percent of its revenues in debt interest””whereas defense spending will be down to between 14 and 16 percent. America will be spending more on debt interest than China, Britain, France, Russia, Japan, Germany, Saudi Arabia, India, Italy, South Korea, Brazil, Canada, Australia, Spain, Turkey, and Israel spend on their militaries combined. The superpower will have advanced from a nation of aircraft carriers to a nation of debt carriers.

What does that mean? In 2009, the United States spent about $665 billion on its military, the Chinese about $99 billion. If Beijing continues to buy American debt at the rate it has in recent years, then within a half-decade or so U.S. interest payments on that debt will be covering the entire cost of the Chinese military. This year, the Pentagon issued an alarming report to Congress on Beijing’s massive military build-up, including new missiles, upgraded bombers, and an aircraft-carrier R&D program intended to challenge American dominance in the Pacific. What the report didn’t mention is who’s paying for it. Answer: Mr. and Mrs. America.

Within the next five years, the People’s Liberation Army, which is the largest employer on the planet, bigger even than the U.S. Department of Community-Organizer Grant Applications, will be entirely funded by U.S. taxpayers. When they take Taiwan, suburban families in Connecticut and small businesses in Idaho will have paid for it. The existential questions for America loom now, not decades hence. What we face is not merely the decline and fall of a powerful nation but the collapse of the highly specific cultural tradition that built the modern world. It starts with the money””it always does. But the money is only the symptom. We wouldn’t be this broke if we hadn’t squandered our inheritance in a more profound sense.

Mr. Steyn makes clear that this is far more than a matter of trade imbalances, or out-of-control budget deficits:

We are coming to the end of a two-century Anglosphere dominance, and of a world whose order and prosperity many people think of as part of a broad, general trend but which, in fact, derive from a very particular cultural inheritance and may well not survive it. To point out how English the world is is, of course, a frightfully un-English thing to do. No true Englishman would ever do such a ghastly and vulgar thing. You need some sinister rootless colonial oik like me to do it. But there’s a difference between genial self-effacement and contempt for one’s own inheritance.

Not so long ago, Geert Wilders, the Dutch parliamentarian and soi-disant Islamophobe, flew into London and promptly got shipped back to the Netherlands as a threat to public order. After the British Government had reconsidered its stupidity, he was permitted to return and give his speech at the House of Lords””and, as foreigners often do, he quoted Winston Churchill, under the touchingly naive assumption that this would endear him to the natives. Whereas, of course, to almost all members of Britain’s governing elite, quoting Churchill approvingly only confirms that you’re an extremist lunatic. I had the honor a couple of years back of visiting President Bush in the White House and seeing the bust of Churchill on display in the Oval Office. When Barack Obama moved in, he ordered Churchill’s bust be removed and returned to the British. Its present whereabouts are unclear. But, given what Sir Winston had to say about Islam in his book on the Sudanese campaign, the bust was almost certainly arrested at Heathrow and deported as a threat to public order.

Somewhere along the way a quintessentially British sense of self-deprecation curdled into a psychologically unhealthy self-loathing.

Mr. Steyn, examining the etiolating effects of the expanding State, quotes Hayek:

There is one aspect of the change in moral values brought about by the advance of collectivism which at the present time provides special food for thought. It is that the virtues which are held less and less in esteem and which consequently become rarer are precisely those on which the British people justly prided themselves and in which they were generally agreed to excel.

The virtues possessed by Anglo-Saxons in a higher degree than most other people, excepting only a few of the smaller nations, like the Swiss and the Dutch, were independence and self-reliance, individual initiative and local responsibility, the successful reliance on voluntary activity, noninterference with one’s neighbor and tolerance of the different and queer, respect for custom and tradition, and a healthy suspicion of power and authority.

Within little more than half a century, almost every item on the list had been abandoned, from “independence and self-reliance’ (some 40 percent of Britons receive state handouts) to “a healthy suspicion of power and authority’””the reflex response now to almost any passing inconvenience is to demand the government “do something.’ American exceptionalism would have to be awfully exceptional to suffer a similar expansion of government without a similar descent, in enough of the citizenry, into chronic dependency…

When William Beveridge laid out his blueprint for the modern British welfare state in 1942, his goal was the “abolition of want,’ to be accomplished by “cooperation between the State and the individual.’ In attempting to insulate the citizenry from the vicissitudes of fate, Sir William succeeded beyond his wildest dreams: Want has been all but abolished. Today, fewer and fewer Britons want to work, want to marry, want to raise children, want to lead a life of any purpose or dignity. Churchill called his book The History of the English-Speaking Peoples””not the English-Speaking Nations. The extraordinary role played by those nations in the creation and maintenance of the modern world derived from their human capital.

What happens when, as a matter of state policy, you debauch your human capital? The United Kingdom has the highest drug use in Europe, the highest incidence of sexually transmitted disease, the highest number of single mothers; marriage is all but defunct, except for toffs, upscale gays, and Muslims. For Americans, the quickest way to understand modern Britain is to look at what lbj’s Great Society did to the black family and imagine it applied to the general population. One-fifth of British children are raised in homes in which no adult works. Just under 900,000 people have been off sick for over a decade, claiming “sick benefits,’ week in, week out, for ten years and counting. “Indolence,’ as Machiavelli understood, is the greatest enemy of a free society, but rarely has any state embraced this oldest temptation as literally as Britain. There is almost nothing you can’t get the government to pay for.

Plucked at random from The Daily Mail: A man of twenty-one with learning disabilities has been granted taxpayers’ money to fly to Amsterdam and have sex with a prostitute. Why not? His social worker says sex is a “human right’ and that his client, being a virgin, is entitled to the support of the state in claiming said right. Fortunately, a £520 million program was set up by Her Majesty’s Government to “empower those with disabilities.’ “He’s planning to do more than just have his end away,’ explained the social worker.

“The girls in Amsterdam are far more protected than those on U.K. streets. Let him have some fun””I’d want to. Wouldn’t you prefer that we can control this, guide him, educate him, support him to understand the process and ultimately end up satisfying his needs in a secure, licensed place where his happiness and growth as a person is the most important thing? Refusing to offer him this service would be a violation of his human rights.’
And so a Dutch prostitute is able to boast that among her clients is the British Government.

What is to be done? As is usually the case with Mark Steyn’s writings on this theme, the article is long on gloomy description, and quite barren of prescription. But odds are that even if he had offered a prescription (which would have to be for strong and stinging medicine), nobody would bother to fill it; until we can acknowledge the reality and gravity of our predicament, and look frankly at ourselves as we try to divine its cause, rallying cries and exhortations will be useless. The West is in the grip of a dire psychological affliction — the cultural equivalent of the self-loathing that impels young women to cut and starve themselves, or to subordinate themselves to abusive spouses — and as with any debilitating psychological malady, the first step in curative transformation is necessarily that the patient begin to be able to to see things as they really are.

The English-speaking peoples — Britain itself, and most importantly its cultural heir and indispenable ally the United States — created the modern era. They have a great deal to be proud of: more so, arguably, than any nation or empire in the world’s long and bloody history, and they have an essential role to play if the prosperity and freedom they have brought to the world is to be sustained. If, however, their rot and decline continues unchecked, if their centuries of virility and confident purpose give way irreversibly to impotence and senescence, then a long and bitter darkness will surely descend upon us all.

Read the article here.

Hankins On Chalmers

I haven’t written much about philosophy of mind lately, which used to be a frequent topic around here. The reason, mostly, is that the subject is so intractable, and progress so difficult, that I just got tired of writing about it. But these ancient questions still fascinate me, and I still return to them now and then.

David Chalmers, who made quite a splash with his book 1997 The Conscious Mind, has a new one out, called The Character of Consciousness. Peter Hankins, the marvelous writer who manages the outstanding philosophy-of-mind blog Conscious Entities, has posted a review, which is well worth reading if you are interested in this addictively engaging and infinitely frustrating subject.

An excerpt from Peter’s review:

In Chalmers’ view, the epistemic gap, the fact that knowledge about the physics does not entail knowledge of the phenomenal, is a sign that that there is a real, ontological gap, too. Materialism is not enough: phenomenal experience shows that there’s more. He now gives us a fuller account of the arguments in favour of qualia, the items of phenomenal experience, being a real problem for materialism, and categorises the positions typically taken (other views are of course possible).

  • Type A Materialism denies the epistemic gap: all this stuff about phenomenal experience is so much nonsense.
  • Type B Materialism accepts the epistemic gap, but thinks it can be dealt with within a materialist framework.
  • Type C Materialism sees the epistemic gap as a grave problem, but holds that in the limit, when we understand things better, we’ll understand how it can be reconciled with materialism.

In the other camp we have non-materialist views.

  • Type D dualism puts phenomenal experience outside the physical world, but gives it the power to influence material things,
  • Type E Dualism, epiphenomenalism, also puts phenomenal experience outside the physical world, but denies that it can affect material things: it is a kind of passenger.

Finally we have the option that Chalmers appears to prefer:

  • Type F monism (not labelled as a materialism, you notice, though arguably it is). This is the view that consciousness is constituted by the intrinsic properties of physical entities: Chalmers suggests it might be called Russellian monism.

 

The point, as I understand it, is that we normally only deal with the external, “visible” aspects of physical things: perhaps phenomenal experience is what they are intrinsically like in themselves — inside, as it were. I like this idea, though I suspect I come at it from the opposite direction: to Chalmers, it seems to mean something like those experiences you’re having — well, they’re the kind of thing that constitutes reality whereas to me it’s more you know reality — well that’s what you’re actually experiencing. Chalmers’ way of looking at it has the advantage of leaving him positioned to investigate consciousness by proxy, whereas I must admit that my point of view tends to leave me with no way into the question of what intrinsic reality is and makes mysterian scepticism (which I don’t like any more than Chalmers) look regrettably plausible.

Type A has always struck me as obvious nonsense; Type B as wishful thinking. Type D suffers, I think, from two major weaknesses: the difficulties of the interaction problem, and the obvious extent to which the mind appears to be entirely supervenient upon the physical brain. Type E, epiphenomenalism, is a dead end, I think (see our discussion of Titus Rivas’s convincing argument to that effect here). That leaves C and F, and I’m not sure I see quite what the difference is between them. I’ve always thought that consciousness is somehow the way certain material systems “look” from the inside; that it is a reflexive feature of the material world that emerges in suitably configured arrangements of matter.

Anyway, the book is no doubt interesting, and the review certainly is. Read it here.

Piled So High

It appears that today we published our 2000th post. If I had any sense of decency or proportion that would surely suffice; needless to say, however, I’ll keep on shoveling.

One Million Jobs

According to “a review of U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics and Census Bureau data conducted exclusively for Reuters by researchers at the Center for Labor Market Studies at Northeastern University in Boston”, it appears that since the beginning of the current recession more than a million U.S. jobs have been taken by recent immigrants, an estimated 35% of whom are here illegally.

The story is here.

That’s Better

Well, I don’t know about you (and I can’t speak for the rest of my conservative friends in the Reichstag), but I’m certainly enjoying this new era of civility. May it last a thousand years!

Red Carpet, Brown Nose

Today President Obama welcomes Hu Jintao, the president of China. Mr. Hu will be feted with pomp and circumstance, including the highest honor that official American hospitality can provide: a state dinner at the White House.

In other words, today the recipient of the 2009 Nobel Peace Prize is entertaining, with full state honors, the head of a police state that currently holds the 2010 Peace Laureate in its gulag for daring to express his opinion.

Makes you proud, doesn’t it?

LBJ Orders Pants

Here.

Persona Non Grata

I have a feeling we’ll be hearing more about this.

This Just In

Here’s a scoop, as dispatched by our monocular Bay Area correspondent:

Thousands of Sports Fans Drunk After Football, Baseball Games

I understand this is the cover story for the forthcoming issue of DUH! magazine, but you heard it here first.

Go Figure

Today’s lead item: it appears that Candy Dynamics, of Indianapolis, IN, acting out of “an abundance of caution”, has decided to issue a voluntary recall of an acidulous confection called Toxic Waste Nuclear Sludge Chew Bars, which they import from Pakistan. Apparently the stuff isn’t good for you.

More here.

3D The Hard Way

I like it for watching “Nictitate at Nite”.

Here.

Sunday Salmagundi

It’s getting late, and having spent the day cleaning out a spare room, editing MIDI drum parts on Pro Tools, and watching the stupendous upset of Tom Brady and the Patriots by our hometown team, I have to dig into the old grab-bag for tonight’s post.

Here are a few diverting links:

First, a bug with bifocals.

Second, an app for the iPhone that you control with your mind.

Third, an essay by Philip K. Howard from a couple of months ago on the suffocating effect of too much law.

Finally, a rumination by Bill Vallicella: Is Death Evil?

Public Service Announcement

For those of you who haven’t heard, your astrological sign may not be what you thought it was. Here are the correct assignments, valid until further notice.

Capricorn: Jan. 20-Feb. 16
Aquarius: Feb. 16-March 11
Pisces: March 11-April 18
Aries: April 18-May 13
Taurus: May 13-June 21
Gemini: June 21-July 20
Cancer: July 20-Aug. 10
Leo: Aug. 10-Sept. 16
Virgo: Sept. 16-Oct. 30
Libra: Oct. 30-Nov. 23
Scorpio: Nov. 23-29
Ophiuchus: Nov. 29-Dec. 17
Sagittarius: Dec. 17-Jan. 20

Please adjust your personal and financial arrangements accordingly.

And Now For Something Completely Different

OK, time to change the subject. It’s been a terrible few days, and everybody’s frazzled and cranky. (Why, if I’m not careful, I might even lose my cool.) We’ve had quite enough politics around here to last us for at least a day or two, I think.

So, lets see here… (rummaging around on desk) … no, that wouldn’t interest anybody… no, I just wrote about this a little while back… no, going to save that one for later… no, nobody’s supposed to know about that one but me and the team in Krasnoyarsk… no, that one would get me kicked off my server for sure… no, I mustn’t reveal this one yet, the world isn’t ready… no, Giselle would never forgive me if I published these, especially right before the big game… hmmm….

Well, there’s this: did you know that Wikipedia has a whole entry just devoted to Common Misconceptions? Very entertaining, and you might even find you harbor a few yourself. (I didn’t, of course, but you might.)

Here.

Bad Moon Rising

I very much wanted to change the subject, to write about something else tonight. But it is becoming increasingly clear that the tension between Left and Right in this country is moving far beyond mere matters of policy — and as I wrote in a comment at another website today, the level of animosity now on view, as expressed in a million tweets and emails and blog posts, rivals any of the deep-seated antipathies that have ever torn nations apart in ethnic or religious civil wars. The tension is fundamental, axiomatic, and visceral; it is getting worse, not better; and it has taken on an increasingly Manichean, moral aspect. Try as I might, I see no path to reconciliation opening before us.

Looking forward from here, I see it becoming increasingly clear that the real problem is that in America as it is, the Left and the Right cannot get away from each other — though get away from each other they surely must, if they are ever again to be happy and at peace. Suddenly I’m truly beginning to despair for this great country; in the most vital sense of the word “nation”, the U.S. has just about ceased to be one. I wonder how much longer it can last.

Hope This Helps

The Arizona shootings have brought about a secondary crisis: massive overuse of the word “vitriol”. (The word appeared in nearly every letter published on the subject in today’s Times.) As a public service, then, and in a heartfelt spirit of bipartisanship, here are some substitutes that writers on the Left can use when describing the activity known to the rest of us as “dissenting from liberal orthodoxy”, or “expressing conservative views”:

Bitterness
Venom
Malediction
Bile
Gall
Sewage
Filth
Racism
Poison
Contumely
Execration
Invective
Malevolence
Contagion
Vilification
Odium
Spite
Pestilence
Spleen
Virulence
Oppugnancy
Feculence
Acrimony
Putrescence
Brimstone
Churlishness
Rage
Hate

This brief offering is just a start; feel free to pitch in, readers. We all must do our part.

Which Way To Turn?

Given all the bickering going on between Left and Right, it seems apt to mention an item in today’s Science Daily newsletter: a story about new results in the study of biological molecular chirality, something I’ve been curious about for a while.

A brief explanatory preface:

Molecules with identical chemical structure can come in mirror-image forms, the way a light-bulb can have left- or right-handed thread. Things that are identical except for being mirror images of each other are called enantiomorphs, and molecules that pair off in this way are called enantiomers. This property of left- or right-handedness is what is meant by “chirality” (from the Greek cheÁ­r, meaning “hand”, as also seen in chiropractor, and chiromancy).

Enantiomers have identical chemical properties, and as a result, when molecules that can take enantiomorphic forms are created in a chemical reaction, they occur in the resulting mixture in equal proportions. (This is referred to as a racemic mixture, or a racemate.)

In living things, however, there are important molecules that only appear as one or the other enantiomer, most notably proteins and sugars. It makes sense that this should be so — life is, after all, dependent upon replication, and upon interacting parts (and it won’t do if the screw doesn’t fit the socket) — but the fact that the chirality of these molecules is common to every living thing on the planet means that the choice was made right at, or even before, the time of life’s origin (or arrival) here on Earth. So the question is: why one enantiomer, and not the other? Was it a purely random choice that, once made, was fixed forever, or was there some compelling and comprehensible reason why things went the way they did?

Well, in today’s article, we learn that a group of French researchers may have something to say about it. Have a look here.

(By the way, if you want to read a truly fascinating book on the subject of mirror-symmetry generally, get yourself a copy of The New Ambidextrous Universe, by the late, great, Martin Gardner.)

Jared Lee Loughner

As mentioned in the post just below, the person in custody in the Tucson shootings is a young white male named Jared Lee Loughner. Although the Left has already begun spitting venom at conservatives in general and the Tea Party in particular (they are going to regret it, I think; I am reminded of when our Dear Leader Mike Bloomberg suggested that the Times Square bomber, who later turned out to be the Muslim zealot Faizal Shazad, was probably “someone with a political agenda that doesn’t like the health care bill or something”), it seems from a look at Mr. Loughner’s YouTube page that the man is simply insane, and by my guess a paranoid schizophrenic.

In his video clips, which are a series of text slides, Mr. Loughner seems obsessed with syllogisms, mind control, currency, literacy, grammar, and Government Officials. (If you are thinking of having a look, do so soon; there’s no guarantee the page will be up for much longer.) He is very clearly barking mad — way out there where the buses don’t run — but in that horrifying, almost-rational way that in my experience seems to be so common with schizophrenics.

Here’s an example, in two slides:

Murder Most Foul

There is horrible news breaking from Tucson, where Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, a Democrat and supporter of “immigration reform” has apparently been assassinated in a mass shooting. (As of 3:13 EST it is still not certain that she has died, though several news agencies are reporting that she was killed.)

Not only is this a despicable crime and a harrowing tragedy for the nation, but it is also certain to become a hugely polarizing political event in the next hours and days. It is still unclear who the shooter was, but already, commenters on various websites are spinning it for all it’s worth.

Update, 5 p.m. – It appears that Congresswoman Giffords has survived this attack, though she has been grievously wounded, and others have died, including a nine-year-old child. Meanwhile, NRO is reporting that the shooter’s name is a young white man named Jared Lee Loughner, and that he has a YouTube page, here (for now). He is obviously not sane.

Regaining Altitude

Well, whatever it was that hit me yesterday, I hope I never get it again. I left my Midtown office just after publishing yesterday’s post, shuffled the third of a mile to the F train at a pace roughly equal to that of an advancing glacier, made a supreme effort to get back up to the street from the platform in Brooklyn, up the block, up the stoop, and into my house, then shed my garments and toppled into bed. I spent the next twelve hours or so in a febrile twilight-zone, hacking and coughing painfully as my temperature inched upwards, but by dawn I seemed to have got past the worst of it, and now, fever broken, I am merely unable to sit or stand for more than a few minutes, due to a bone-deep exhaustion that I’m sure will pass before the weekend is over.

On the brighter side, at New Year’s I had resolved to lose some weight (I knew things were getting out of hand when I got on the scale at the drugstore and a card popped out saying “One at a time, please!!), and this little episode seems to have sheared away a remarkable six pounds.

My thanks to all of you who commented and wrote, and of course to my angel of mercy the lovely Nina, without whose selfless ministrations I must surely have passed beyond all mortal reach.

Terrain! Terrain!

I am not at all well today; a sudden onset of some stupefying chest-and-fever affliction has me slumped over my desk and wondering if I’ll make it home from the office. Back in harness tomorrow, I hope.

Race Maps

We hear a lot about the inherent goodness, copious blessings, and paramount importance of diversity, but the obvious fact of history is that diverse populations frequently disaggregate, very often violently, into more homogeneous assortments. Shocking though it may be, there actually seems to be some truth to the obsolete and offensive notion that people, on the whole, prefer to associate with other people who are like themselves. It’s true that “like themselves” can represent alignment along a variety of traits — shared artistic, academic, or recreational interests, for example — and my own long experience of easygoing diversity within New York City’s amiable community of professional musicians, which I must say often feels more like an extended family, is a good example of a cohesive trait-group formed by people of highly heterogeneous backgrounds. But for the great mass of people always and everywhere, the primary trait-axes along which populations have differentiated and agglomerated themselves have always been, and still are, ethnic and religious.

When this sort of thing comes up in polite Western circles, counterexamples (such as my own, above) are sure to be produced: reassuring anecdotes of contented diversity in modern life. And they are real enough. But even in maximally (and more or less comfortably) diverse settings such as the sophisticated cosmopolitan university, a glance at the groupings in the cafeteria, or at other habits of socialization outside the classroom, confirms that the natural tendency still asserts itself. (It asserts itself forcefully in university curricula, too, which often focus very sharply indeed on differentiating people by various markers of “identity”.) That most people are happiest in generally homogeneous communities, though, and so group themselves accordingly when they can, is nothing new; the only thing that has changed in recent times is that this universal, and practical, human preference has lately been declared, for highly abstract reasons, to be morally reprehensible.

Great cities like New York, which function well enough despite being highly diverse (with only occasional flareups of mass intergroup violence, and a generally tolerated background hum of the same at the individual level), are also commonly cited as counterexamples — and the wary uneasiness in the public square, and general diminution of trust, that are documented effects of high diversity are thought to be amply compensated for by eclectic culinary offerings, a varied artistic scene, and other manifestations of “vibrancy”. Perhaps they are: New York is certainly a stimulating place to live, if not a relaxing one. New York is also a very unusual place: this “Alpha++ world city“, arguably the cultural and financial capital of the world, attracts a great many high achievers of various sorts who can, and do, form stable trait-groups along axes other than the usual ethnic and religious lines.

Today I ran across an interesting item in the UK’s Daily Mail, which you may have seen before (apparently it’s been discussed a lot, but this is the first time I’ve seen it): a collection of “race maps” of some U.S. cities, created by cartographer Eric Fischer. Below is an image of the archetype of the modern, diverse city, my home for the past 32 years. In it every dot represents 25 people; red represents white people, blue is for black, orange Hispanic, green Asian, and grey stands for everybody else.

A couple of years ago, shortly after the Obama inauguration, I wrote that in my lifetime America had clearly undergone what I described as a great racial and cultural “annealing”, and I still think that in many ways it has. But I also think, two years on, that my metaphor somewhat naively overstated the case, as many others were quick to point out at the time. Annealing of metals harmonizes their internal structure, relieving and diffusing tensions at crystalline boundaries — making them less brittle, less prone to fracture under stress. But what we see in this map, even in the most diverse city on Earth, is only a tessellation. It is certainly nothing like an alloy, and it is still, I’m afraid, prone to fracture.

You can see more of these maps, in better detail than this resized version, in the Mail article, here.

Curiouser And Curiouser

You may have been puzzled, as was I, to see the story the other day of the murder of John P. Wheeler, lawyer and former military officer, whose mortal remains were discarded in a garbage dump in Wilmington, Delaware.

Now, various sources are alleging a link between the murder of Mr. Wheeler, an “inside” expert on chemical weapons, and the recent mass death of birds and fish in Arkansas in the proximity of the Pine Bluff Arsenal and the Little Rock AFB.

Have a look here.

Disclaimer: this is very speculative stuff, of course, and we take no position on its veracity. This sensational account does nothing to explain the fact that the animal deaths were limited to a single species; nor does it explain why, if the chemical agent involved was indeed phosgene gas recovered from Saddam Hussein’s arsenal, the discovery of such a stockpile was not announced at the time, given the intense political pressure the Bush administration faced to justify the invasion of Iraq on the basis of such weapons (though the report linked below suggests that it was considered advantageous to keep the stockpile concealed for deniable “black” deployment elsewhere).

In any event, having no compunctions about journalistic rigor, we are perfectly happy to assist the spread of alarming, poorly substantiated rumors.

Turn Out The Lights, The Party’s Over

On Boxing Day, the NFL announced that it was cancelling the Eagles-Vikings game. The reason? It looked like it was going to snow.

I couldn’t believe it. Tough men playing in brutal conditions is (or, I suppose I should say, was), an unshakable pillar of the football mystique. No matter how bad it gets, the game goes on. Look at the mighty Green Bay Packers, for example, playing all those games up there on the Frozen Tundra at Lambeau Field, wearing their short-sleeved jerseys with the temperature below zero. Think of all the games we’ve seen in swirling blizzards, where the groundskeepers could hardly keep the yard-lines and hash-marks visible. Think of all the games we’ve seen in monsoon-like downpours that turned the field into an acre of cleat-sucking mud. I even remember a Bears game I couldn’t see at all, because the field was completely shrouded in fog.

It was clear to me that this pigeonhearted decision, which should live in infamy, was yet another depressing, and in this case deeply symbolic, example of an America gone soft. Arrayed against us, all around the world, are implacable foes: lean and obdurate men, their eyes burning with unquenchable fire, stubborn and unyielding in their cause even in the face of certain death. Meanwhile, such pampered milksops have we become, such cringing, sniveling quake-buttocks, that we can’t even play football — and yes, we are talking about football here — in the snow.

Well, it seems I wasn’t the only one who felt this way. Here’s what Dennis Prager has to say about it.

Something Fishy In Arkansas; Fowl Play Suspected

In 2007 I wrote a post about Charles Fort, a dogged and eloquent eccentric who spent his life in the pursuit of what he called “damned facts” — eyewitness accounts of inexplicable phenomena that had been cast aside and swept into the incinerator by smug Victorian science. In four immensely engaging books — I can assure you that you’ve never read anything like them — he presented, in incomparable style, thousands and thousands of such accounts, culled from news sources all over the world, dating back, in some cases, hundreds of years.

The phenomena in question included UFO sightings (many from before the invention of powered flight), poltergeists, sudden or unexplained disappearances, spontaneous combustion, teleportation, bizarre artifacts, and much more. One area to which he gave much attention was the falling of things from the sky: strange organic materials, flat sheets of ice, and animals such as fishes and frogs, often of unknown species, and often, for no apparent reason whatsoever, only a single species.

Mr. Fort would, I think, have been keenly interested to learn of recent events in Arkansas, where something very strange is afoot. It seems that thousands of red-winged blackbirds (and as far as I can tell, only red-winged blackbirds) fell dead from the sky on New Year’s Eve in the area around the town of Beebe: victims, apparently, of some “massive trauma”. The cause is as yet unspecified; those who abhor such explanatory vacua, and must fill them, have suggested that “a loud noise” might have been to blame.

A loud noise? It’s a dandy explanation, of course, and ought to settle the question — but as I head for the door I find myself turning back again, troubled, Columbo-style, by a nagging little detail. You see, the thing is that I have been around a lot of very loud noises in my day, and have even caused quite a few myself — and it strikes me that on no occasion did any of them, not even the very loudest, cause thousands of birds, of a single species, to drop lifeless from the firmament. So I wonder.

But wait: there’s more. It appears that fish are dying too, in the Arkansas River, where 100,000 or so of them have inexplicably gone to their reward, such as it may be, en masse. Once again the slaughter appears to be confined to a single species: in this case Aplodinotus grunniens, the freshwater drum. Does this seem odd to you, particularly in light of recent actuarial data for Agelaius phoeniceus? Well, it does to me too.

I seem to recall that there was yet another curious manifestation down there in the “Natural State” the other day, perhaps involving earthworms — but not having the tenacity of a Charles Fort, I’ll leave it to readers to dig that one up on their own. Worms or no worms, though, it’s a queer business, and wants looking into.

Comic Relief

When my well runs dry, as it has in the wearying final weeks of 2010, I want nothing more than to withdraw from the world, switch off the computer, cancel the newspaper, siphon off a vial of Caledonia’s tawny restorative, and read old books in silence and solitude. There are a few writers who always hover near the top of the stack; among them are H.L. Mencken, S.J. Perelman, Mark Twain, and Winston Churchill. (For some appreciations of Churchill in these pages, see here and here.)

This week, feeling spent and deep in existential gloom, I decided to cheer myself a bit with a sampling from Mark Twain, America’s greatest humorist. I went to the bookshelf and took down Letters From the Earth, which Twain wrote in 1909, shortly before he died.

Here are some excerpts from Letter VII:

Noah and his family were saved — if that could be called an advantage. I throw in the ‘if’ for the reason that there has never been an intelligent person of the age of sixty who would consent to live his life over again. His or anyone else’s.

The Family were saved, yes, but they were not comfortable, for they were full of microbes. Full to the eyebrows; fat with them, obese with them, distended like balloons. It was a disagreeable condition, but it could not be helped, because enough microbes had to be saved to supply the future races of men with desolating diseases, and there were but eight persons on board to serve as hotels for them. The microbes were by far the most important part of the Ark’s cargo, and the part the Creator was most anxious about and most infatuated with. They had to have good nourishment and pleasant accommodations. There were typhoid germs, and cholera germs, and hydrophobia germs, and lockjaw germs, and consumption germs, and black-plague germs, and some hundreds of other aristocrats, specially precious creations, golden bearers of God’s love to man, blessed gifts of the infatuated Father to his children — all of which had to be sumptuously housed and richly entertained; these were located in the choicest places the interiors of the Family could furnish: in the lungs, in the heart, in the brain, in the kidneys, in the blood, in the guts. In the guts particularly. The great intestine was the favorite resort. There they gathered, by countless billions, and worked, and fed, and squirmed, and sang hymns of praise and thanksgiving; and at night when it was quiet you could hear the soft murmur of it. The large intestine was in effect their heaven. They stuffed it solid; they made it as rigid as a coil of gaspipe. They took pride in this.

… The discomforts furnished by the Ark were many and various. The family had to live right in the presence of the multitudinous animals, and breathe the distressing stench they make and be deafened day and night with the thunder-crash of noise their roarings and screechings produced; and in additions to these intolerable discomforts it was a peculiarly trying place for the ladies, for they could look in no direction without seeing some thousands of the creatures engaged in multiplying and replenishing. And then, there were the flies. They swarmed everywhere, and persecuted the Family all day long. They were the first animals up, in the morning, and the last ones down, at night. But they must not be killed, they must not be injured, they were sacred, their origin was divine, they were the special pets of the Creator, his darlings.

By and by the other creatures would be distributed here and there about the earth — scattered: the tigers to India, the lions and the elephants to the vacant desert and the secret places of the jungle, the birds to the boundless regions of empty space, the insects to one or another climate, according to nature and requirement; but the fly? He is of no nationality; all the climates are his home, all the globe is his province, all creatures that breathe are his prey, and unto them all he is a scourge and a hell.

To man he is a divine ambassador, a minister plenipotentiary, the Creator’s special representative. He infests him in his cradle; clings in bunches to his gummy eyelids; buzzes and bites and harries him, robbing him of his sleep and his weary mother of her strength in those long vigils which she devotes to protecting her child from this pest’s persecutions. The fly harries the sick man in his home, in the hospital, even on his deathbed at his last gasp. Pesters him at his meals; previously hunts up patients suffering from loathsome and deadly diseases; wades in their sores, gaums its legs with a million death-dealing germs; then comes to that healthy man’s table and wipes these things off on the butter and discharges a bowel-load of typhoid germs and excrement on his batter-cakes.

… I will tell you a pleasant tale which has in it a touch of pathos. A man got religion, and asked the priest what he must do to be worthy of his new estate. The priest said, “Imitate our Father in Heaven, learn to be like him.”

The man studied his Bible diligently and thoroughly and understandingly, and then with prayers for heavenly guidance instituted his imitations. He tricked his wife into falling downstairs, and she broke her back and became a paralytic for life; he betrayed his brother into the hands of a sharper, who robbed him of his all and landed him in the almshouse; he inoculated one son with hookworms, another with the sleeping sickness, another with gonorrhea; he furnished one daughter with scarlet fever and ushered her into her teens deaf, dumb, and blind for life; and after helping a rascal seduce the remaining one, he closed his doors against her and she died in a brothel cursing him.

Then he reported to the priest, who said that that was no way to imitate his Father in Heaven. The convert asked wherein he had failed, but the priest changed the subject and inquired what kind of weather he was having, up his way.

There now. Doesn’t that feel better?

There Is A Tide

The Outer Cape in winter may be chilly, sparsely populated, and a little bleak (all of which suits me just fine), but one of the pleasures of being here in the cold months is the shell-fishing. In winter, when our highly prized oysters are at their peak of flavor and plumpness, the Wellfleet oyster-beds are open to permit-holders every day of the week (it’s just Wednesday and Sunday in the summertime), and you pretty much have the place all to yourself.

I just got back from the Indian Neck flats, where in the pale January sun the air was mild and still, the bay calm and quiet save for the crying of the gulls, and the tide was low and bounteous. On the exposed harbor bottom lay happy, healthy Wellfleet oysters in multitudes beyond reckoning.

Here’s a snapshot (click the image to zoom in):

click for hi-res version

In forty minutes or so I had about four dozen in my pail. There’s a medicine for melancholy!

December 31st

So long, 2010.

Usually I’m cheery and optimistic on New Year’s Eve, but this time around as the old year wanes I find myself in the grip of a tenacious bout of melancholy. I have a feeling 2011 is going to be, as they say, an “interesting” time.

But never mind that! For tonight, let’s raise a glass. Best wishes to you all, dear readers!

Let It Snow

Today is balm for the weary spirit: the pre-Christmas frenzy is over, a powerful snowstorm raging outside has brought city life to a standstill, and after an exhausting spell of long hours at the office over the past couple of months, I have before me eight days of jealously hoarded time off.

The pace may be slow here for the rest of the year; the lovely Nina and I will be hibernating here and in Wellfleet, giving top priority to rest and quiet contemplation.

Merry Christmas

To you all. Thanks as always for reading and commenting.

As Above, So Below

With the publication of The Selfish Gene in 1976, Richard Dawkins raised a lively debate about which level of life’s organization is the right one for understanding natural selection. Previously the assumption had been that selection could only be understood to act upon discrete individuals, but Dawkins shook things up by suggesting that selection pressures also determine the reproductive fitness of genes themselves. His idea, initially radically heterodox, is now broadly accepted. Still on the outside looking in is the idea that evolutionary selection also operates at a hierarchical level above the individual organism also, but I think it is just a matter of time until the idea of group-level selection, as persuasively defended by David Sloan Wilson and others, finds general acceptance as well.

Simply put, life is fractal. At our everyday scale, we see each other as individual men and women. Zoom in, and we find that we are systems of interacting organs. Zoom in again, and we see that each organ is a society of cells. Zoom in again, and we see that each cell is, in turn, a system of interacting organelles.

But we can also zoom out beyond the level of the individual animal, and if we do we find that many of the properties of the organism and its subsystems appear here as well. Indeed, for some living things, it’s hard to say just what the “natural” level of organization really is: with ants, for example, the individual is just a tiny, stupid, dispensable machine, while the colony as a whole displays a flexible, emergent intelligence, and draws upon an impressive repertoire of behavior in the pursuit of its “interests”. One could say that the individual ant stands in relation to the colony as the individual neuron stands to the human brain. Is the natural “unit” of the family Formicidae, then, the ant or the colony? (And just what are the sorts of things that can have “interests”?)

Previously I’ve extended this metaphor — the idea of human societies as living organisms — to include the idea of immuno-suppression as a potentially lethal cultural pathology. Now Dennis Mangan, in a thought-provoking post, suggests that as living organisms, cultures may also be strengthened by the biological response known as hormesis.

Read it here.

Holiday Cheer: Hope At Last

There’s good news today from the frontiers of medical research, and just in time for Christmas.

Story here.

Trout Mask Requiem

The gifted writer Verlyn Klinkenborg offered a remembrance of Don Van Vliet on today’s New York Times editorial page. I liked it so much I’m reproducing it here (I don’t suppose he’ll mind).

Summer of 1969. Parents away. A 50-foot audio cable runs from the stereo through a window across the porch to the lawn, where it terminates in headphones with my head between them. I’m lying on my back in the Sacramento night. On the turntable is “Trout Mask Replica,’ just released, which I’ve listened to again and again. It is the magnum opus of the Magic Band led by Captain Beefheart, a k a Don Van Vliet, who died on Friday at age 69.

I had never heard anything like “Trout Mask Replica.’ I listened to it again when I heard that Van Vliet had died. It still feels like walking through a crooked house where every crooked room is a crooked art installation, every song a spirochete that nests in your brain. For years, I’ve heard in my head the syncopated hitch in the gait of this music, the meticulous noodlings of the electric guitars, the frantic drumming, and, above all, Captain Beefheart’s voice.

It rumbles and clatters like an avalanche of boulders. It squeals as if Beefheart had found some inner harmonic in the dog’s range. It makes Tom Waits sound like Julie Andrews. It veers between thoracic and nasal in a single note, every bit as surreal as the lyrics.

Captain Beefheart was a pure product of Southern California. Much of “Trout Mask Replica’ was written and rehearsed over three years in a cabin in Woodland Hills on the edge of the San Fernando Valley ”” a residence that should be as famous as “Big Pink’ in West Saugerties, N.Y., where The Band holed up. That was where Beefheart drove his band and was driven by them ”” Zoot Horn Rollo, Rockette Morton, The Mascara Snake, Antennae Jimmy Semens, and Drumbo ”” into making one of the seminal albums of all time.

There is more to Beefheart than “Trout Mask Replica,’ and far more to Don Van Vliet, who retired with his wife to Trinidad, Calif., where he painted and gradually succumbed to multiple sclerosis. He never made much money being Captain Beefheart. But he left an eerie and undying legacy.

Taking On Water, Listing To Port

Once again I’m passing the evening in my little cubicle, fettered to my oar. So for tonight, by way of sharing the gloom, we have two depressing items, sent our way by our indefatigable correspondent JK, about the effect on our military of America’s accelerating cultural untergang.

See here, and here.

“Thing Of The Past” Snarls UK Traffic, Causes Chaos

Here’s a nice juxtaposition of news items from across the Big Ditch. The first, published in The Independent back on March 20th, 2000, glumly informed Brits that:

Snowfalls are now just a thing of the past.

Zip forward a decade or so, and we have this:

Coldest December since records began as temperatures plummet to minus 10C bringing travel chaos across Britain.

Getting Petty About Larceny

My local news-radio station recently reported on a string of crimes here in Brooklyn in which cell-phones were being “robbed” by a man on a bicycle, his modus operandi being to ride up to distracted pedestrians and snatch the devices from their hands. This didn’t sit well with me; I’d have said it was the pedestrians who were being robbed, of their phones.

To clarify this important distinction, I give you the immortal Peter Cook.

Done Deal

Well, Congress has gone ahead and repealed Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. I’ve already written about this topic, taking the position that the overriding concern here, by far, should be the effect of whatever policy is adopted on the effectiveness of the military. (I don’t claim to know what that effect will be ”” allowing gays to serve openly might not have any lasting, negative effect at all, for all I know ”” and I understand the well-intentioned wish to end our ridiculous “DADT’ policy, and to let them in. But maximizing the cohesion and effectiveness of our military should never be made secondary to confused notions about ‘rights’ to serve, and other nonsense.)

Were I running the show, we’d have made sure to get a clear answer to this question before bringing the matter to a vote in Congress. What we have instead, however, is this (forgive the crude formatting):

(a) Comprehensive Review on the Implementation of a Repeal of 10 U.S.C. 654-

(1) IN GENERAL- On March 2, 2010, the Secretary of Defense issued a memorandum directing the Comprehensive Review on the Implementation of a Repeal of 10 U.S.C. 654 (section 654 of title 10, United States Code).

(2) OBJECTIVES AND SCOPE OF REVIEW- The Terms of Reference accompanying the Secretary’s memorandum established the following objectives and scope of the ordered review:

  • (A) Determine any impacts to military readiness, military effectiveness and unit cohesion, recruiting/retention, and family readiness that may result from repeal of the law and recommend any actions that should be taken in light of such impacts.
  • (B) Determine leadership, guidance, and training on standards of conduct and new policies.
  • (C) Determine appropriate changes to existing policies and regulations, including but not limited to issues regarding personnel management, leadership and training, facilities, investigations, and benefits.
  • (D) Recommend appropriate changes (if any) to the Uniform Code of Military Justice.
  • (E) Monitor and evaluate existing legislative proposals to repeal 10 U.S.C. 654 and proposals that may be introduced in the Congress during the period of the review.
  • (F) Assure appropriate ways to monitor the workforce climate and military effectiveness that support successful follow-through on implementation.
  • (G) Evaluate the issues raised in ongoing litigation involving 10 U.S.C. 654.

(b) Effective Date- The amendments made by subsection (f) shall take effect 60 days after the date on which the last of the following occurs:

(1) The Secretary of Defense has received the report required by the memorandum of the Secretary referred to in subsection (a).

(2) The President transmits to the congressional defense committees a written certification, signed by the President, the Secretary of Defense, and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, stating each of the following:

  • (A) That the President, the Secretary of Defense, and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff have considered the recommendations contained in the report and the report’s proposed plan of action.
  • (B) That the Department of Defense has prepared the necessary policies and regulations to exercise the discretion provided by the amendments made by subsection (f).
  • (C) That the implementation of necessary policies and regulations pursuant to the discretion provided by the amendments made by subsection (f) is consistent with the standards of military readiness, military effectiveness, unit cohesion, and recruiting and retention of the Armed Forces.

In this, we see that the priorities, and the sensible sequence of events, are exactly reversed. The DOD is now told, with the change of policy already a fait accompli, to “Determine any impacts to military readiness, military effectiveness and unit cohesion, recruiting/retention, and family readiness that may result from repeal of the law and recommend any actions that should be taken in light of such impacts.”

Shouldn’t we have determined those impacts before we passed this bill? I think it is safe to assume that even if, after a frank assessment, the determination is made that having homosexuals serving openly will in fact have, as some suggest, a disastrous effect on unit cohesion, morale, etc., “repealing the bill” is not going to be among the available “actions that should be taken in light of such impacts.”

In other words, the greatest evil, as always, is discrimination. To the liberal mind, only that is America’s real enemy, not the many mortal foes of our Republic against whose lethal designs a maximally effective military is our only bulwark.

Again: I want to make clear that I have no opinion at all about whether gays should be allowed to serve openly in the military. Ceteris paribus, it’s fine with me if they do. But our priorities are completely topsy-turvy here.

Time And A Word

You may not have heard about the latest offering from Google Labs, but it’s impressive, and addictive too. It’s a simple user interface that lets you graph the varying rate at which words and phrases have appeared in books over time. Enter your word or phrase, and see a graph. Bada-bing!

Read about it here, and take it for a spin at ngrams.googlelabs.com.

Don Van Vliet, 1941 – 2010

Here’s some very sad news, just in from our California correspondent: the unique, the incomparable Captain Beefheart has succumbed to multiple sclerosis at the age of 69.

Don Van Vliet was sui generis, and though he never rose to the dizzy pinnacle of fame, he was one of the most influential, most visionary, most jaggedly creative musicians of his era. I was lucky enough to see him perform on a few occasions, but I never had a chance to meet him or, as I so fondly hoped might happen someday, to work with him in the studio; a lifelong painter, he had retired to his easel in the California desert by the time I cut my teeth as a recording engineer.

His otherworldy 1969 album Trout Mask Replica altered my musical consciousness forever. I was not alone.

His New York Times obituary is here, and you can read about him at Wikipedia, here.

And here’s some Ice Cream for Crow.

(And for you computer programmers: new significance to 3735928559.)

Study Confirms: Wheels Need Greasing

Well, here’s one scientific result whose robustness isn’t likely to decline with age: it appears that a certain level of corruption in law-enforcement actually represents a sort of societal “sweet spot”.

Story here.

Down In The Valley

Victor Davis Hanson, a native of California’s Central Valley, recently spent a few days exploring the area by bicycle and automobile to see how it had been affected by decades of political, economic, and demographic transformation. He summarizes his gloomy findings in a substantial essay at the National Review website.

His article begins:

The last three weeks I have traveled about, taking the pulse of the more forgotten areas of central California. I wanted to witness, even if superficially, what is happening to a state that has the highest sales and income taxes, the most lavish entitlements, the near-worst public schools (based on federal test scores), and the largest number of illegal aliens in the nation, along with an overregulated private sector, a stagnant and shrinking manufacturing base, and an elite environmental ethos that restricts commerce and productivity without curbing consumption.

During this unscientific experiment, three times a week I rode a bike on a 20-mile trip over various rural roads in southwestern Fresno County. I also drove my car over to the coast to work, on various routes through towns like San Joaquin, Mendota, and Firebaugh. And near my home I have been driving, shopping, and touring by intent the rather segregated and impoverished areas of Caruthers, Fowler, Laton, Orange Cove, Parlier, and Selma. My own farmhouse is now in an area of abject poverty and almost no ethnic diversity; the closest elementary school (my alma mater, two miles away) is 94 percent Hispanic and 1 percent white, and well below federal testing norms in math and English.

Here are some general observations about what I saw (other than that the rural roads of California are fast turning into rubble, poorly maintained and reverting to what I remember seeing long ago in the rural South). First, remember that these areas are the ground zero, so to speak, of 20 years of illegal immigration. There has been a general depression in farming ”” to such an extent that the 20- to-100-acre tree and vine farmer, the erstwhile backbone of the old rural California, for all practical purposes has ceased to exist.

On the western side of the Central Valley, the effects of arbitrary cutoffs in federal irrigation water have idled tens of thousands of acres of prime agricultural land, leaving thousands unemployed. Manufacturing plants in the towns in these areas ”” which used to make harvesters, hydraulic lifts, trailers, food-processing equipment ”” have largely shut down; their production has been shipped off overseas or south of the border. Agriculture itself ”” from almonds to raisins ”” has increasingly become corporatized and mechanized, cutting by half the number of farm workers needed. So unemployment runs somewhere between 15 and 20 percent.

Many of the rural trailer-house compounds I saw appear to the naked eye no different from what I have seen in the Third World. There is a Caribbean look to the junked cars, electric wires crisscrossing between various outbuildings, plastic tarps substituting for replacement shingles, lean-tos cobbled together as auxiliary housing, pit bulls unleashed, and geese, goats, and chickens roaming around the yards. The public hears about all sorts of tough California regulations that stymie business ”” rigid zoning laws, strict building codes, constant inspections ”” but apparently none of that applies out here.

The signs are not auspicious for this formerly thriving agricultural and industrial powerhouse. Read the whole thing here.

Let’s Get It Started

Once again I am sitting at my office at 10:30 p.m., with no time for writing.

So, for tonight:

I imagine that those of you who prowl the reactionary blogosphere are familiar with the mysterious, magniloquent monarchist “Mencius Moldbug”, who blogs at Unqualified Reservations. I was surprised to find, the other day, a video of Mr. Moldbug debating the economist Robin Hanson. The topic is whether “futarchy” — the idea that government policy might best be made by what are called “decision markets” — is in fact, as Moldbug asserts, retarded.

Watch it here.

Science In Decline?

In the December 13th edition of The New Yorker is a feature article by Jonah Lehrer titled The Truth Wears Off, about what’s known as the “Decline Effect” in experimental research.

If you have a subscription to the New Yorker, you can read the article here. The magazine’s website does not allow selecting and pasting of text, however, and I can’t find it anywhere else online, so not having the patience tonight for much transcribing, I’ll just sum up, rather than copying extensive quotes as I normally would.

The idea — and it is a troubling one — is that a great many experimental results just don’t seem to last. The author introduces us to psychologist Jonathan Schooler, who twenty years ago published a paper called Verbal overshadowing of visual memories: some things are better left unsaid.

At the time, it was widely believed that the act of describing our memories improved them. But. in a series of clever experiments, Schooler demonstrated that subjects shown a face and asked to describe it were much less likely to recognize the face when shown it later than those who had simply looked at it. Schooler called the phenomenon “verbal overshadowing”.

The study turned him into an academic star. Since its publication, in 1990, it has been cited more than four hundred times. Before long, Schooler had extended the model to a variety of other tasks, such as remembering the taste of a wine, identifying the best strawberry jam, and solving difficult creatine puzzles. In each instance, asking people to put their perceptions into words led to dramatic decreases in performance.

The problem was that it was getting harder and harder, as time went on, to demonstrate the effect, and harder for others to replicate it. It was just as, if in some baffling sense, the “novelty” was wearing off, or as if the world was developing a “tolerance” to being investigated this way. Schooler started calling it “cosmic habituation”.

And it turns out that the effect is widespread. The article describes, for example, a marked decline over time in the effectiveness of once-powerful antidepressant drugs. It also talks about the pioneering ESP experiments of J.B. Rhine, who found that his subject Adam Linzmayer’s impressive ability to predict cards fell off over time to no better than chance.

We also read about an observational study of sexual selection in barn swallows. A 1991 project by the Danish researcher Anders MÁ¸ller found that swallows with symmetrical tail-feathers had a far better chance of mating than their less-symmetrical fellows. This concept — that symmetry is a proxy for genetic health — soon became a widely accepted view, and studies strongly confirmed the effect repeatedly in other species, from fruit flies to humans. After a while, though, the effect, at first extremely robust, became harder and harder to detect.

What’s going on here? One might imagine that the results of psychological studies, once they make their way into the public awareness, begin to affect the system that’s being measured. But barn swallows?

Various points have been raised to try to account for the Decline Effect. The first to come to mind is as described by Mr. Lehrer:

The most likely explanation for the decline is an obvious one: regression to the mean. As the experiment is repeated, that is, an early statistical fluke gets canceled out. The extrasensory powers [seen by Schooler in an experiment to test for precognition, which then disappeared in later trials] didn’t decline — they were simply an illusion that vanished over time.

But this is not statistically satisfying; many of these initial results are simply too strong to have a significant likelihood of being anomalies. Other possible causes put forward refer to common biases, such as confirmation bias and publication bias. Lehrer points out that statistician Theodore Sterling, for example, noticed in 1957 that 97% of all psychological papers with statistically significant data confirmed the expected hypothesis. And it is clear that scientists often “shoehorn” their data, ever so slightly, to fit their hypotheses: after all, scientists are human, and you don’t rise to academic fame by proposing hypotheses only to disconfirm them. As more, and more disinterested, researchers repeat the experiments, the shoehorning effect falls away.

Mr. Lehrer gives us the example of acupuncture tests done in the East and the West. Between 1966 and 1995, of 47 studies done in the Far East, avery one of them found significant therapeutic benefit, while in the West, only 56% of 94 trials did.

We read about Stanford epidemiologist John Ioannidis, who reviewed 432 studies on genetic difference in disease risk between the sexes, and found that only one was consistently replicable. Dr. Ioannadis, convinced that much of medical fashion was based on completely untrustworthy results, published a 2005 paper in PLoS Medicine called Why Most Published Research Findings Are False. (The abstract is here, and you can read an article about Dr. Ioannadis here.) Most research, indeed, is never even subjected to attempts at replication.

What are we to make of this? Nobody is really sure; I’m certainly not. I will say this, though: although this sort of thing is catnip to postmodernists and various New Age sorts (who yearn, respectively, to undermine the notion of objective truth or to refute the idea that cold-hearted, left-brain-y Science is a useful approach to it), this is most certainly not a death-knell for Western rationality, or the scientific method. Look around you: airplanes still stay aloft; gasoline still combusts in the usual way in the engine of your car; helium is still less dense than air; our space probes still achieve their trajectories with pinpoint accuracy; the transmission of a digital signal still excites the screen of your computer in a precisely predictable pattern as you read this post. Mr. Lehrer’s title seems to argue against the existence in nature of objective, or at least stable, truths; not so fast, say I.

But clearly there is something odd going on. One thing that stands out to me is that the results that seem the most compromised by the Decline Effect are almost exclusively to do with studies of living systems. What might that mean?

All Is Calm, Then All Is Bright

Here’s some holiday cheer, sent our way by the indefatigable JK.

Great Flood

Here’s an item that’s been going around just now — sent to me independently by two readers shortly after I had noticed it myself in the science newsletters.

Prior to the warmest part of the current interglacial period, large areas of what is now the western Persian Gulf were above sea level — constituting a large, fertile area, with extensive riparian wetlands that might be seen as a greatly expanded version of today’s Shatt-al-Arab. It now seems according to work by researcher Jeffrey Rose,that this region might have been home to a significant human community, destroyed long ago as the sea level rose.

We read:

Historical sea level data show that, prior to the flood, the Gulf basin would have been above water beginning about 75,000 years ago. And it would have been an ideal refuge from the harsh deserts surrounding it, with fresh water supplied by the Tigris, Euphrates, Karun, and Wadi Baton Rivers, as well as by underground springs. When conditions were at their driest in the surrounding hinterlands, the Gulf Oasis would have been at its largest in terms of exposed land area. At its peak, the exposed basin would have been about the size of Great Britain, Rose says.

The original paper, in the journal Current Anthropology, is subscription-only, but you can read more of the story here and here.

Meanwhile, speaking of anthropology, the feud between physical anthropology (the study of the natural history of the hominid group) and “cultural” anthropology, which has always been at least as much a social/political endeavor as a scientific one, and far more so lately, has been intensifying lately. Many are saying that cultural anthropology, especially as it is represented in academia today, has no standing to call itself a “science” at all. (My late mother, a physical anthropologist, would surely have agreed.)

Learn more here.

Conservatives, Liberals, And Gaze

Once again it’s almost eleven P.M., I’m still at work, and once again I have no time to write. (This is getting old fast, as am I.) I do have another interesting item for you, though.

This time it’s about a little experiment, one that has picked out a curious difference between liberals and conservatives. It could be spun two ways: either to suggest that A) liberals are empathetic, connected souls who are naturally involved with what their fellow man is thinking and feeling, and that conservatives are selfish and aloof; or B) that liberals are sheep, and that conservatives think, and take responsibility, for themselves. (I like B.)

Or the whole thing could be just a lot of hooey.

Anyway, it’s the best I could do, given that I’m stuck here working this late on a Friday. Read the story here.

Invictus

I worked far too late again tonight to do any writing — it’s after midnight, and I’ve only just got home from the office. But that doesn’t mean I have nothing for you, readers: have a look at the humbling, and exalting, life-story I read on the way home.

Here And Gone

I haven’t had much to say about politics for a few days, and don’t feel the need tonight to add to the chorus commenting on the tax deal, and on how adroitly the President managed to offend both the Right and his own liberal base at his petulant news conference yesterday. All I’ll say is that I’m sure it was a painful decision for him to make, and I’m glad he made it. We’ll see what happens next.

No, this evening the discovery of an old Zippo lighter in a box exhumed from the basement has got me thinking about how strange it is that so many of the ubiquitous technologies of my youth are gone, and gone forever. Propeller-driven airliners. Zip-tops that pulled right off the can (and cans that had no zip-tops at all). Cigarette lighters in cars. 45-rpm singles, with those funny little adaptors for the hole in the middle. (Did those things have a name?) Cassette tapes, eight-track cartridges, and every other form of analog recording. Rotary (dial) phones. Rabbit ears. Punch cards. Mimeographs. Console TVs that looked like furniture. Huge mainframe computers. Telex. Slide rules, and slide projectors. Home movies. Polaroid cameras, and photographic film generally. Police cars with just one light on top.

What’s interesting is how much of this has to do with one advancement only, namely the processing of digitizable information.

What’s also interesting is how many things haven’t changed. We’re still driving around in cars powered by gasoline, and we’re still smashing them into each other. We still get colds, and we still die from cancer. We still throw Frisbees back and forth. We still have clocks with hands, and we still measure things in feet and inches, and miles and pints and pounds. We still have wooden pencils, and they still have little rubber erasers on them. We haven’t set foot on the Moon since I was a teenager. Doctors still use stethoscopes made of rubber tubing, and measure your blood pressure with a column of mercury. Aspirin is still the best thing for a headache. We still play cards, and Scrabble, and Monopoly, and chess. We’re still hitting baseballs with wooden bats, and catching them with leather gloves.

Maybe best of all, we still have books.

We still don’t really know what we are. We still get old and feeble and die, and it still scares the bejesus out of us.