To my dismay, even after a good night’s sleep and a fresh perusal of the paper, after reading both of Greg Laden’s thorough articles, Mooney’s latest summary, Orac’s claim that it’s nothing but tailoring your message to your audience, and Nisbet’s roundup of responses, I’m still hopelessly confused. What the heck is this paper telling me to do?
Abbie makes an excellent point on it the ongoing discussion of the Nisbet/Mooney paper: just how often do scientists get an opportunity to discuss their work to the public, anyway?
I have a few simple points to make.
Larry Moran criticizes a dramatic Youtube video that purports to show how evolution works. He asks if we think this helps or hurts the cause of evolution education. Speaking as an evo-devo guy (forgive me, Larry), I’d also say it hurts. Without understanding the mechanisms of morphological change underlying the simulation, it’s useless. It doesn’t explain anything about the roots of the variation it’s demonstrating or the principles of the propagation of genetic change through a population — funny faces shift generation after generation, with no explanation given. It asserts change without showing how. That is not science.
This is also where I have problems with the Nisbet/Mooney thesis. I presume this kind of simplified, cartoony presentation is what they think we need more of, and that scientists ought to just swallow their pride arrogance and go along with the “framing”…but there’s a point where simplification and flash become the antithesis of good science. I don’t want people to believe in evolution, I want them to understand it.
Would the cartoon help them believe? Maybe.
Does it help them understand? No.
If you want to grasp the goals of scientists (and, tellingly, the goals of atheists), you have to understand that distinction between believing and understanding.
Jonathan Wells apparently felt the sting of my rebuttal of his assertions about Hox gene structure, because he has now repeated his erroneous interpretations at Dembski’s creationist site. His strategy is to once again erect a straw man version of biologist’s claims about genetic structure, show that biologists have refuted his dummy, and claim victory. The only real question here is whether he actually believes his historical revisions of what we’ve known about Hox genes, in which case he is merely ignorant, or whether he is knowingly painting a false picture, in which case he is a malicious fraud.
Matthew Nisbet and Chris Mooney have a short policy paper in Science that criticizes scientists for how they communicate to the public. Mooney says that “many scientists don’t really know what they’re up against when suddenly thrust into the media spotlight and interactions with politicians” — I agree completely. We are not trained to be glib and glossy, and we simply do not come across as well as we could. We’re also not really that interested, generally speaking, in the kind of presentation that plays well in 3 minutes on a news broadcast. It’s more than a cosmetological failure, though; as Nisbet says, “scientists, without misrepresenting scientific information, must learn to shape or ‘frame’ contentious issues in a way that make them personally relevant to diverse segments of the public, while taking advantage of the media platforms that reach these audiences.” I can go along with that, too.
On The Infidel Guy, Abby of ERV goes up against a ranting crackpot, Leonard Horowitz, who thinks AIDS is the product of a secret conspiracy. She handles herself very well. It’s painful to listen to—Horowitz is a master of the bellowing Gumby style of discourse, and he believes in some very looney things. He’s also smart enough, though, that he knows some of his stuff is going to go over as immensely kooky to an informed audience, and he gets evasive at several points.
Some highlights occur when he’s called “Mr Horowitz”, and he goes on an indignant tirade about his credentials. Another is when he ducks and dodges on the issue of evolution, and tries to claim that the “brand new science of genetics and electrogenetics” (electrogenetics?) is going to require major changes of our understanding of evolution. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get into his really fun stuff:
Among the world’s foremost authorities on the subject of bioterrorism, vaccination risks, and public health, Dr. Horowitz’s expert diagnosis here dovetails perfectly with Bible prophecies. Pay special attention to his disclosures regarding the infamous “Mark of the Beast.” Dr. Horowitz reveals sacred Bible codes that give expanded meaning to the infamous “666” prophecy (Rev: 13:18) while implicating widely trusted vaccinations, medical biochips, politicians, and institutions that have advanced some of the most horrific population-controlling ploys ever conceived. Anthrax, smallpox, and vaccinations are all part of the same deadly swindle.
Kudos to Abby for being able to deal with such a fraud and kook, and being far smarter than Horowitz, but Reggie Finley needs to get better guests than a quack like that.
This evening, I am watching an episode of that marvelous and profane Western, Deadwood, as I type this; it is a most excellently compensatory distraction, allowing me to sublimate my urge to express myself in uncompromisingly vulgar terms on Pharyngula. This is an essential coping mechanism.
I have been reading Jonathan Wells again.
If you’re familiar with Wells and with Deadwood, you know what I mean. You’ll just have to imagine that I am Al Swearingen, the brutal bar-owner who uses obscenities as if they were lyric poetry, while Wells is E.B. Farnum, the unctuous rodent who earns the contempt of every man who meets him. That imagination will have to hold you, because I’m going to restrain myself a bit; I’m afraid Wells would earn every earthy sobriquet I could imagine, but I’ll confine myself to the facts. They’re enough. The man completely misrepresents the results of a paper and a whole discipline, and does it baldly on the web, as if he doesn’t care that his dishonesty and ignorance leave a greasy, reeking trail behind him.
Let’s start with Wells’ own words.
I feel a bit peculiar watching these “bloggingheads” episodes — it’s like sitting in on two people’s private conversation, and by the nature of the medium, you can’t even join in. And then the recent Althouse spectacle made me cringe — it was just too Jerry Springer, and I half-expected a tall bald bouncer to show up and make sure the trailer-trash harridan didn’t actually claw anyone’s eyes out.
The recent science episode with John Horgan and George Johnson makes me feel a little better about it, though; it’s more of a chatty and casual intellectual conversation. It’s still a bit limiting that no one else can join in, but I can appreciate that a thousand people chattering on a page would be much worse.
When I heard them, though, I knew their remarks about string theory would set off an informed but indignant response somewhere. What do you know, I was right!
I’ve been seeing this xkcd comic everywhere today, and it might be heresy to do this, but I have to disagree with part of it. It just didn’t ring true.
The mammalian tree is rooted deeply and branched early!
That’s the message of a new paper in Nature that compiled sequence data from 4,510 mammalian species (out of 4,554) to assembly that lovely diagram above. Challenging the ‘conventional wisdom’ that mammalian diversity is the product of an opportunistic radiation of species after the dinosaurs were wiped out at the end of the Cretaceous 65 million years ago, the authors instead identified two broad periods of evolutionary expansion among the mammals: an early event 100-85 million years ago when the extant orders first appeared, and a radiation of modern families in the late Eocene/Miocene. A key point is that there is no change in rates of taxon formation across the Cretaceous/Tertiary (K/T) boundary—mammalian diversity was rich before the dinosaurs disappeared.
