A few years ago I was climbing a mountain in the Collegiate Range of Colorado with my good friend Patrick. Although the fourteeners in the area are good climbs, we wanted to trek something a little less trodden, and so chose a random peak tucked back off the state highway. The summit was probably at around 11,000 feet, and the snow was knee-deep on average, deeper in some spots. It was a beautiful day. I had never used an ice axe before, necessary here because of the steep slope, so Pat ran me through the techniques for aided climbing and self-arrest. Up we went in the cold, clear Colorado morning. Moving up a steep draw we hit a somewhat vertical rocky outcropping, and Pat attacked it first. It was probably less than a dozen feet high, and I watched him ascend and aggressively dig into the rock at the top with his axe as he pulled himself over the lip. I followed his lead, but being somewhat less physically inclined and less certain of my technique, I limped rather than powered my way over the lip. Without any momentum, I failed to clear the edge and began slipping backwards over it. I sprawled out to stop my slide, and Patrick, further up the mountain, descended towards me to help.
At this point I should note that a slip over the edge probably wouldn’t have been fatal, and the extent of any injury would have depended on what I hit on the way down, or if I starting sliding upon hitting the snow. Regardless of reality, that cliff seemed a lot higher and the fall a lot nastier as I lay sprawled on the rock with one foot hanging over the edge. As I waited for Pat, I deliberately turned my head to take in the view. Breathtaking. The sapphire sky was nearly cloudless and the mountains surrounding us were snow-covered and gleaming in the sun, with space enough between peaks to consider each on its own, this openness enhancing their enormity. The fear of falling enhanced everything: colors seemed bolder, edges and boundaries dramatically defined, and the whole scene seemed to expand and wrap around my mind the way things sometimes do when I’ve had way too much coffee. I breathed deep, exhilarated by the poignancy of it all. By that time Patrick was holding fast to a small pine tree and lowering his ice axe by the strap for me to grab, after which he hauled my sorry self away from the edge.
I miss experiences like that – not being in harm’s way, but rather the state of mind that comes from the efforts that sometimes lead us there. I have experienced similar moments while sitting firmly on solid ground and in no direct danger. For example, looking towards the distant Rockies from the rim above Salt Creek Canyon in Utah fills me with a profound peace and joy that is similarly satisfying – yet different – as the exhilaration I felt on that cliff. What is important is the struggle that brings one to a place, a wild place removed from the support of civilization. I think the solitude that these situations evoke is an important factor in all of this – an internal solitude that can be felt even in the company of others, and that purifies and isolates the essential elements of whatever one is experiencing. More intense struggles, after all, necessarily evoke more personalized reflection, as one drifts further from the bounds of common experience and therefore from common interpretations of experience. Perhaps in a similar way, scientists sometimes test extreme models of a given system to isolate and identify its properties.
Late one September my friend Julie and I climbed Pike’s Peak, a 14,000-foot mountain in Colorado’s Front Range. Along the twelve-mile hike to the summit we passed through a variety of ecosystems, including glorious stands of aspen with leaves arrayed in brilliant reds and yellows, quaking in the mild breeze, the sun shining behind them, the air brisk and pregnant with their soft and powdery perfume. The hike is fairly strenuous and took us about seven hours to complete. At the summit, we were greeted by the usual throngs of tourists who either drove up the road on the back side of the mountain or took the cog railroad, milling about a summit house complete with donut shop and souvenirs. People rightly flock to the top of this mountain for the beautiful view, and I’m glad so many appreciate it. Indeed, Katherine Lee Bates wrote America the Beautiful from that very spot!
But I saw something different than those who drove or rode to the top. I remember times past when I’ve pulled into a scenic overlook along the highway and appreciated a beautiful landscape. But that, like driving up the mountain, affords a different kind of appreciation. After ascending Pike’s Peak, I looked back and envisioned the entire trail we had just traversed: I could smell the aspen, hear the quaking leaves, feel the trail under my feet, remember Julie’s conversation, and most of all I could feel an intimacy with the mountain. Twelve miles is a good hike, especially up a slope that covers a 7,000-foot altitude gain from the trailhead. The last couple miles are especially steep and difficult in the thin air. I, trudging a few steps at a time, pausing for breath, feeling my legs and lungs burn, contemplated the exhaustion and weakness that this mountain inflicted upon me. I was humbled by it, conscious of being atop something very large that was indifferent to my well-being. This wasn’t a nice view from a car, detached, cheaply gained. This was a big damn mountain, ponderous and ancient, creaking and groaning over a fault-line, with a thin film of life clinging to its rocky mass… this was earth piled so high that the thin air and harsh environment stunted life and then choked it off, the lonely summit home only to the howling wind and to marmots scrambling among the lichen-encrusted rocks. This is what we had dared to invade with our footsteps, groping our way up its bulk. It was awesome, standing on top of this giant thing we had climbed, and feeling it. To contemplate the whole of it, to feel that awe, first required experiencing it with our feet and hands, seeing it, smelling it, tasting it, hearing it… all twelve miles and 7,000 feet of it.
For a while I didn’t really notice the car-borne people around me. Neither did I see the same scene they saw, for our frames of reference were completely different. I couldn’t relate to them, just as I couldn’t relate my thoughts at that moment to my thoughts in the past at those scenic highway overlooks. What I was experiencing was more than an appreciative gaze above the fruited plain: I had pushed myself against the mountain and it had pushed back, exposing me, and now I rejoiced at having achieved the summit. The scene I saw included a landscape that had constituted a personal trial, and that therefore had a personal dimension complimenting its innate beauty.
I miss those moments of rapture. I live in a big city now, and I am struggling to adjust. I am not a stranger to intellectual struggle, athletic struggle, even a degree of artistic struggle. These are part of the big picture, and thankfully I find them here in my urban home. But they do not satisfy the need for those profound moments that I find in the powerful and indifferent embrace of wild places. It’s all relative, I suppose: I merely dip my toe into the sea of the wild, and derive great benefit in doing so. Yet I have friends who wade much farther from shore, and know of others still who dive headlong into the deep, sometimes never resurfacing. Would my own experiences be wild enough to fulfill them? Is a hike in a local park fulfilling for those who grew up in the city?
I wonder if there is an urban equivalent of what I crave, but I have a hard time believing that there is. It’s not just the struggle, it’s the ritual act of going out there to encounter it. There is something unique about removing oneself from the support of civilization, and something primal and irreducible about the struggles and experiences in the wild that reveals primal and irreducible truths about ourselves. These experiences remind me that I’m alive and that life is precious and precarious, and that’s what I miss.
Friday, November 30, 2007
OMG! WTF!
Gallup: Republicans Report Much Better Mental Health Than Others
(Relationship persists even when controlling for other variables.)
Ok. I don't have time to cut this apart right now, but if you read this and can't find the glaring issue in this survey that goes untouched in the analysis, then you were absent the day they were handing out common sense, and/or you have a job waiting for you at Gallup.
I'll post an adendum when I have time.
(Relationship persists even when controlling for other variables.)
Ok. I don't have time to cut this apart right now, but if you read this and can't find the glaring issue in this survey that goes untouched in the analysis, then you were absent the day they were handing out common sense, and/or you have a job waiting for you at Gallup.
I'll post an adendum when I have time.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Here's Your Pledge and My Signing Statement.
According to the Washington Post, earlier this month the Virginia Board of Elections approved a VA Republican Party plan to require all GOP primary voters to sign a pledge stating they intend to support the party's Presidential nominee in the fall, no matter who he is. No pledge, no vote.
Here in Virginia, we don't provide a party affiliation when we register to vote. Consequently, we get to choose which primary we participate in, if any. The sta- er, Commonwealth GOP is paranoid about independents and (GASP!) liberals casting ballots in the primary, so they have decided to clear up any confusion in the mind of voters. If you were a little unclear about whether the GOP is a big tent party open to a range of opinions, this ought to settle the question. May only he who votes in lockstep enter here!
Of course, there are a lot of silly things to point out about this pledge business. First, it is entirely unenforceable; the GOP can't tell who you vote for in the fall. Second, by letting independents know that they aren't welcome to voice a preference unless they would be comfortable with any nominee, the GOP is just ensuring that their nominee will appeal to fewer voters in the general election. Third, it just isn't great PR when someone drives all the way down to the polling station to participate in party politics and gets turned away over some silly pledge. Fourth, it is more of this, "Everybody is out to get us!" paranoia that I keep hearing from the right: "Golly! There's a war on Christmans, gays are trying to cheapen my marriage, athiest want to teach my kids we came from monkeys, and now the liberals want to tamper with our honest elections!?!? Thank God the party is looking out for us!"
Fifth, and most importantly, it illustrates the fact that the people who end up working for political parties (on either side) are the sort that think everyone on my team is better than anyone on the other team. Total nonsense. The dissatisfaction among Republicans with President Bush ought to be evidence enough that one Republican isn't just as good as another. If they were, why bother with a primary? They should just be fiscally conservative and draw from a hat. Nonetheless, I'd like to see these hacks eat their pledges if Ron Paul is nominated.
Anyway, the party is also pushing to put party affiliation on VA voter registration forms so they don't have to mess around with these messy loyalty pledges. I'm against that. Political parties are private organizations, not government entities. But people forget this because parties get so much official recognition from the government. I might be alone in this, but when I worked in the House of Representatives I thought it was weird that Congress provided separate Republican and Deomcratic Cloakrooms right on the House floor. That's prime real estate! If it's for private use, the party should have to pay for it. Go rent a room at the Radisson if you want to have a caucus!
Not to be over-dramatic, but whenever I see the government remember that it isn't its job to carry water for political parties, as I did when I registered to vote here in the sweet Commonwealth of Virginia, I think that maybe there might be some hope for this country yet.
But I digress back to one last point on the loyalty pledge. The leader of the national Republican Party, our dear President (a man of conscience, I might add), has had little trouble putting his signature to hundreds of laws which he has had little intention of either enforcing or abiding by. Perhaps would-be VA primary voters, who don't intend to decide who to vote for next fall until they actually know who is running, may sooth their consciences by taking a page from the the President's playbook. When the GOP puts the pledge in front of you, just add a signing statement to let them know the pledge doesn't apply to you. That way we can all feel Presidential on voting day!
Here in Virginia, we don't provide a party affiliation when we register to vote. Consequently, we get to choose which primary we participate in, if any. The sta- er, Commonwealth GOP is paranoid about independents and (GASP!) liberals casting ballots in the primary, so they have decided to clear up any confusion in the mind of voters. If you were a little unclear about whether the GOP is a big tent party open to a range of opinions, this ought to settle the question. May only he who votes in lockstep enter here!
Of course, there are a lot of silly things to point out about this pledge business. First, it is entirely unenforceable; the GOP can't tell who you vote for in the fall. Second, by letting independents know that they aren't welcome to voice a preference unless they would be comfortable with any nominee, the GOP is just ensuring that their nominee will appeal to fewer voters in the general election. Third, it just isn't great PR when someone drives all the way down to the polling station to participate in party politics and gets turned away over some silly pledge. Fourth, it is more of this, "Everybody is out to get us!" paranoia that I keep hearing from the right: "Golly! There's a war on Christmans, gays are trying to cheapen my marriage, athiest want to teach my kids we came from monkeys, and now the liberals want to tamper with our honest elections!?!? Thank God the party is looking out for us!"
Fifth, and most importantly, it illustrates the fact that the people who end up working for political parties (on either side) are the sort that think everyone on my team is better than anyone on the other team. Total nonsense. The dissatisfaction among Republicans with President Bush ought to be evidence enough that one Republican isn't just as good as another. If they were, why bother with a primary? They should just be fiscally conservative and draw from a hat. Nonetheless, I'd like to see these hacks eat their pledges if Ron Paul is nominated.
Anyway, the party is also pushing to put party affiliation on VA voter registration forms so they don't have to mess around with these messy loyalty pledges. I'm against that. Political parties are private organizations, not government entities. But people forget this because parties get so much official recognition from the government. I might be alone in this, but when I worked in the House of Representatives I thought it was weird that Congress provided separate Republican and Deomcratic Cloakrooms right on the House floor. That's prime real estate! If it's for private use, the party should have to pay for it. Go rent a room at the Radisson if you want to have a caucus!
Not to be over-dramatic, but whenever I see the government remember that it isn't its job to carry water for political parties, as I did when I registered to vote here in the sweet Commonwealth of Virginia, I think that maybe there might be some hope for this country yet.
But I digress back to one last point on the loyalty pledge. The leader of the national Republican Party, our dear President (a man of conscience, I might add), has had little trouble putting his signature to hundreds of laws which he has had little intention of either enforcing or abiding by. Perhaps would-be VA primary voters, who don't intend to decide who to vote for next fall until they actually know who is running, may sooth their consciences by taking a page from the the President's playbook. When the GOP puts the pledge in front of you, just add a signing statement to let them know the pledge doesn't apply to you. That way we can all feel Presidential on voting day!
Monday, November 26, 2007
Topics in Public Faith
Such a pithy title deserves a dissertation, but alas, one is not forthcoming today. Or, if it does, then Project 5, which is due tomorrow, will be in rough shape.
Anyway, looking at my entries, I've noticed that I've been a bit hard on the old-tyme religion as of late, and I feel like it is high time I announced some premises/positions for future exploration in detail... later. My co-collaborators are welcome to jump in wherever they feel compelled to agree or disagree.
1. Inquiries that begin with the conclusion are doomed. Examples: Undertaking a scientific study of the world after first concluding that whatever you will find must conform to a literal interpretation of some holy text (not just looking at you Christians).
2. Neither evolution nor the big bang theory make any claims regarding the existence of supernatural deities or the creation of the universe. Those questions are beyond the scope of science. You can be a scientist who believes these things and devoutly follow any number of mainstream religions.
3. This is not a Christian nation. It is a nation of laws in which people are free to hold the beliefs that they choose without fear of coercion or harassment. Religious people set it up this way because they were sick of being coerced and harassed.
4. Faith is GREAT, for individuals. If you wish to take a position based on faith, it is your right. However, the moment you attempt to make decisions about other people's rights and property, you had better have evidence to convince them that what you propose is right. Example: Because of his religious beliefs, the owner of Chik'fil'a (sp?) closes all of his restaurants on Sundays. Good for him! They belong to him, he can do what he wants with them. However, if he were to lobby the government to force all restaurants to close on Sundays, he had better be able to make an objective case for the policy change that even folks who don't share his faith could find reasonable. "God says so," ceases to cut it.
5. Though people may have souls, the nation certainly does not. Using the state to advance a religious agenda at home or abroad saves no one. You can't get all of America into heaven by having the government force righteousness upon everyone, and the ones doing the forcing probably won't make it either. Instead, people need to focus on themselves and their families to make sure they are righteous in the eyes of their God.
6. The government is a tool we use to get along with one another, and secularism is a great approach for deciding just how it should work. We're a nation of a lot of people who believe a lot of different things. Holding debates on public policy within the domain of material facts which all parties can ascertain and share with others is the best way to come to conclusions that satisfy the most people's needs. When policy debate bears the burden of religious dogma, compromise, the original goal, becomes heresy enforced by damnation, and consequently, unpalatable to all sides concerned. What gets done?
7. Secular doesn't mean Hollywood. Secular doesn't mean relativism, either. Just because you hear these things lumped together in straw-man arguments (as I heard in this Sunday's homily), it doesn't mean they are all the same thing. It is possible to come to conclusions about right and wrong without relying on any particular group's religious views (see Philosophy in general). The alternative isn't resorting to hedonism.
That's good for now. I could go further, but I have a J.D. to get.
Anyway, looking at my entries, I've noticed that I've been a bit hard on the old-tyme religion as of late, and I feel like it is high time I announced some premises/positions for future exploration in detail... later. My co-collaborators are welcome to jump in wherever they feel compelled to agree or disagree.
1. Inquiries that begin with the conclusion are doomed. Examples: Undertaking a scientific study of the world after first concluding that whatever you will find must conform to a literal interpretation of some holy text (not just looking at you Christians).
2. Neither evolution nor the big bang theory make any claims regarding the existence of supernatural deities or the creation of the universe. Those questions are beyond the scope of science. You can be a scientist who believes these things and devoutly follow any number of mainstream religions.
3. This is not a Christian nation. It is a nation of laws in which people are free to hold the beliefs that they choose without fear of coercion or harassment. Religious people set it up this way because they were sick of being coerced and harassed.
4. Faith is GREAT, for individuals. If you wish to take a position based on faith, it is your right. However, the moment you attempt to make decisions about other people's rights and property, you had better have evidence to convince them that what you propose is right. Example: Because of his religious beliefs, the owner of Chik'fil'a (sp?) closes all of his restaurants on Sundays. Good for him! They belong to him, he can do what he wants with them. However, if he were to lobby the government to force all restaurants to close on Sundays, he had better be able to make an objective case for the policy change that even folks who don't share his faith could find reasonable. "God says so," ceases to cut it.
5. Though people may have souls, the nation certainly does not. Using the state to advance a religious agenda at home or abroad saves no one. You can't get all of America into heaven by having the government force righteousness upon everyone, and the ones doing the forcing probably won't make it either. Instead, people need to focus on themselves and their families to make sure they are righteous in the eyes of their God.
6. The government is a tool we use to get along with one another, and secularism is a great approach for deciding just how it should work. We're a nation of a lot of people who believe a lot of different things. Holding debates on public policy within the domain of material facts which all parties can ascertain and share with others is the best way to come to conclusions that satisfy the most people's needs. When policy debate bears the burden of religious dogma, compromise, the original goal, becomes heresy enforced by damnation, and consequently, unpalatable to all sides concerned. What gets done?
7. Secular doesn't mean Hollywood. Secular doesn't mean relativism, either. Just because you hear these things lumped together in straw-man arguments (as I heard in this Sunday's homily), it doesn't mean they are all the same thing. It is possible to come to conclusions about right and wrong without relying on any particular group's religious views (see Philosophy in general). The alternative isn't resorting to hedonism.
That's good for now. I could go further, but I have a J.D. to get.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Pseudonyms are for Suckers
This is my first original posting on a blog site. As such, in it I will wet my proverbial feet (I don’t have actual feet) by posting some feelings about the internet in general, and will follow up in the weeks to come with postings of more substance.
First: any personal information submitted on an internet site is bogus. I bet most of you didn’t know that Mark is 43 years old and heavy-set, wears a perpetual smirk, an intense rust-colored beard, and a Merlin robe (with rhinestones), and carries around a plastic pumpkin pail in which he collects unusual rocks. Browsing this site you’d think him a savvy, youngish student of law. I, on the other hand, haven’t even given you my real name, so imagine what I’m like. If it’s any consolation, the internet is weird for me, too. This dribble I’m posting could be read by anyone, including but not limited to inquisitive Homeland Security agents, militant grad students, communists, or Mark’s mom.
More substantive postings will follow. I just wanted to first establish my love-hate relationship with the internet: glorious medium for sharing ideas on the one hand, disarming privacy-devouring succubus on the other. I will initially struggle to write postings meaningful to an audience that theoretically encapsulates all of the English-reading internet-connected people of planet earth. I will then think about that for a moment, start drinking, and post whatever saucy Greek-laced nonsense comes to mind. Because that's how I roll. None of it will be personal, but all of it might just be glorious. So...
Allons! I go for the millionth time to encounter the world of cyberspace, and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated dribble of the internet! Allons!!
First: any personal information submitted on an internet site is bogus. I bet most of you didn’t know that Mark is 43 years old and heavy-set, wears a perpetual smirk, an intense rust-colored beard, and a Merlin robe (with rhinestones), and carries around a plastic pumpkin pail in which he collects unusual rocks. Browsing this site you’d think him a savvy, youngish student of law. I, on the other hand, haven’t even given you my real name, so imagine what I’m like. If it’s any consolation, the internet is weird for me, too. This dribble I’m posting could be read by anyone, including but not limited to inquisitive Homeland Security agents, militant grad students, communists, or Mark’s mom.
More substantive postings will follow. I just wanted to first establish my love-hate relationship with the internet: glorious medium for sharing ideas on the one hand, disarming privacy-devouring succubus on the other. I will initially struggle to write postings meaningful to an audience that theoretically encapsulates all of the English-reading internet-connected people of planet earth. I will then think about that for a moment, start drinking, and post whatever saucy Greek-laced nonsense comes to mind. Because that's how I roll. None of it will be personal, but all of it might just be glorious. So...
Allons! I go for the millionth time to encounter the world of cyberspace, and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated dribble of the internet! Allons!!
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
New Contributors
If you are a diligent reader of this blog, either you have noticed that there are two new contributors, or you have noticed that you are now a new contributor. Yes, Megas Janis and Asself have decided to join the fun at Martian Cat Problem, and we (by that, I mean I) are (am) excited to have them.
However, this does raise two issues:
First, I can only assume that my new accomplices have elected to write under psuedonyms in order to remain annoymous. Either that, or in the case of Asself, he wishes to sound more dignified. Either way, I can't help but feel a little jealous. It makes me wonder whether I should also adopt a pseudonym, if only to fit in with the in-crowd.
Second, what good is a pseudonym if the domain includes my full name anyway. Maybe we should move, since this isn't soley my gig any longer. Either that or I'll just take responsibility for the content of Megas Janis' drunken, greek-laced rants. Of course, moving shouldn't be taken lightly, since we might end up confusing our most loyal readers. Of course, I could always call Mom and give her the new address.
Anyway, if you would like to weigh in on the psuedonym/domain name issue, just, you know, comment or something. Yeah.
However, this does raise two issues:
First, I can only assume that my new accomplices have elected to write under psuedonyms in order to remain annoymous. Either that, or in the case of Asself, he wishes to sound more dignified. Either way, I can't help but feel a little jealous. It makes me wonder whether I should also adopt a pseudonym, if only to fit in with the in-crowd.
Second, what good is a pseudonym if the domain includes my full name anyway. Maybe we should move, since this isn't soley my gig any longer. Either that or I'll just take responsibility for the content of Megas Janis' drunken, greek-laced rants. Of course, moving shouldn't be taken lightly, since we might end up confusing our most loyal readers. Of course, I could always call Mom and give her the new address.
Anyway, if you would like to weigh in on the psuedonym/domain name issue, just, you know, comment or something. Yeah.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Intelligent Design Proponents Have Cajones
A quick follow-up to my post on the NOVA Judgment Day special on Evolution and Intelligent Design...
According to New Scientist, the Discovery Institute, an Intelligent Design think tank and publisher of the book Of Pandas and People which was a prominent feature of the Dover trial, has alleged that the teaching materials that accompany the NOVA special "encourage unconstitutional teaching practices."
At issue are teaching materials that state:
We need to ask whether these statements either promote or criticize a particular religious view. This depends on how you read the statements. Are these statements about evolution or about religion? Here is an example of two ways someone could paraphrase the statements in question.
1. "Evolution does not make any claim about the validity of religion." (about evolution)
2. "Religions that are inconsistent with evolution are false." (about religion)
If you think the Q&A boils down to statement 1, then you would think it is constitutional. If you think statement 2 is a fair assessment of the Q&A, then you should think that these statements are unconstitutional.
Obviously, I'm in the statement 1 camp. Evolution doesn't rule out God, and I think that is the point that these statements are trying to get across. However, I can see how the statement 2 folks have an argument. If you believed in a religion that didn't support evolution, you might conclude that the Q&A was speaking directly to your religion rather than religion in general.
Even if statement 1 was intended by the authors, the effect of promoting or suppressing a particular religious position is probably enough to make it unconstitutional. Though, I have to believe there is some sort of reasonableness standard that applies here.
But how do you decide whether this is a reasonable conclusion for someone to make? Imagine if the Q&A had been about "eating pork" or "engaging in premarital sex." There are some religions which strongly abhor these practices. Is it a religious statement to say, "The common view that (eating pork/engaging in premarital sex) is anti-religious is simply false"?
In thinking about this, I keep drifting back to the validity of the statements. The Q&A is unquestionably true. It could be false only if no one believed in both evolution and some religion. Since there are probably more than a hundred million Americans who hold both views, the statement certainly isn't false.
A religious statement, on the other hand, would be much harder to validate. I don't think we could say definitively whether statement 2 is true or false. However, statement 1 is verifiable like the Q&A. But does any of this matter?
At any rate, in raising this issue, the Discovery Institute has made it clear that they think there are religious implications to evolution. For an organization that worked so hard to sanitize ID so that they could pass it off as science rather than religion, this is a gutsy position.
According to New Scientist, the Discovery Institute, an Intelligent Design think tank and publisher of the book Of Pandas and People which was a prominent feature of the Dover trial, has alleged that the teaching materials that accompany the NOVA special "encourage unconstitutional teaching practices."
At issue are teaching materials that state:
Q: Can you accept evolution and still believe in religion?This is an interesting issue. Unfortunately, I haven't gotten this far in Constitutional Law yet, but I'll take a stab.
A: Yes. The common view that evolution is inherently anit-religious is simply false?
We need to ask whether these statements either promote or criticize a particular religious view. This depends on how you read the statements. Are these statements about evolution or about religion? Here is an example of two ways someone could paraphrase the statements in question.
1. "Evolution does not make any claim about the validity of religion." (about evolution)
2. "Religions that are inconsistent with evolution are false." (about religion)
If you think the Q&A boils down to statement 1, then you would think it is constitutional. If you think statement 2 is a fair assessment of the Q&A, then you should think that these statements are unconstitutional.
Obviously, I'm in the statement 1 camp. Evolution doesn't rule out God, and I think that is the point that these statements are trying to get across. However, I can see how the statement 2 folks have an argument. If you believed in a religion that didn't support evolution, you might conclude that the Q&A was speaking directly to your religion rather than religion in general.
Even if statement 1 was intended by the authors, the effect of promoting or suppressing a particular religious position is probably enough to make it unconstitutional. Though, I have to believe there is some sort of reasonableness standard that applies here.
But how do you decide whether this is a reasonable conclusion for someone to make? Imagine if the Q&A had been about "eating pork" or "engaging in premarital sex." There are some religions which strongly abhor these practices. Is it a religious statement to say, "The common view that (eating pork/engaging in premarital sex) is anti-religious is simply false"?
In thinking about this, I keep drifting back to the validity of the statements. The Q&A is unquestionably true. It could be false only if no one believed in both evolution and some religion. Since there are probably more than a hundred million Americans who hold both views, the statement certainly isn't false.
A religious statement, on the other hand, would be much harder to validate. I don't think we could say definitively whether statement 2 is true or false. However, statement 1 is verifiable like the Q&A. But does any of this matter?
At any rate, in raising this issue, the Discovery Institute has made it clear that they think there are religious implications to evolution. For an organization that worked so hard to sanitize ID so that they could pass it off as science rather than religion, this is a gutsy position.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
cdesign proponentsist
The title of this post is a transitional form - it is the missing link between creationism and intelligent design.
This week the PBS program NOVA aired an excellent account of the controversy resulting from the Dover, PA school board's efforts to insert Intelligent Design into the school's science curriculum. Two years ago this week the controversy culminated in a Federal District Court case brought by some Dover parents to enjoin the introduction of Intelligent Design along-side evolution. (Thanks to BABlog for letting me know it would be on the air, and I encourage everyone to watch the program either on the tube or at the PBS website.)
Intelligent Design (ID) is the belief that certain features of life as we observe them today are so complex that they could not come about through natural processes like evolution. Rather, this 'irreducible complexity' is a clear sign that these features and the creatures who possess them were designed and created whole cloth by some 'intelligent agent'. Savvy proponents of ID are careful not to equate 'intelligent agent' with a particular religious deity, but True Christians(tm) tend to view ID as an acceptable belief system because of the perceived compatibility with a literal interpretation of Genesis. True Scientists(tm), such as the science teachers in Dover, view it as a philosophical proposition that neither makes any testable predictions nor guides further inquiry. Consequently, it doesn't belong in the science classroom. If anywhere, it belongs in a Philosophy or Theology class. I first encountered it in Philo 101 where it was referred to as the Teleological Argument - not a theory, an argument.
Back to Dover: The parents' claim was that the School Board violated the establishment clause of the First Amendment which states, "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion..." The requirements of this amendment trickle down to the states and all of their subdivisions, including public school boards. To show a violation of the establishment clause, the parents needed to show that the actions of School Board were either motivated by a desire to promote a religious view or had the effect of promoting a religious view.
Their case took the form of two separate inquiries which the show cleverly presents in parallel. The first inquiry delved into the meaning of science and the theory of evolution to demonstrate to the court how ID fundamentally fails to stand up as a genuine scientific alternative to evolution. The second inquiry was an exploration of the motivations behind proponents of ID and those on the Dover School Board who wished to bring it into the science classroom. One inquiry was scientific and the other was legal, but both used similar methods to arrive at knowledge that could be presented convincingly to the court.
Inquiry 1: Evolution v. Intelligent Design
The problem with ID is that it is merely a critique of evolution. Proponents of ID point to gaps in the evolutionary understanding of life, declare that these gaps can never be explained by science, then conclude by saying that the only other alternative is that this 'intelligent agent' did it.
A difficulty for these ID proponents is that these "gaps" that can never be explained are routinely explained by new discoveries. For example, ID proponents and creationist often say, if one type of animal descends from another type, why don't we have "transitional forms," fossils of creatures somewhere between the two known animals? If you get your science from Kirk Cameron (Mike Seaver from Growing Pains) you will believe that "Science has never found a genuine transitional form..."
Somehow he overlooks Archaeopteryx, pictured above, which is considered the first known bird. It was feathered, but it had teeth and is likely a relative of the velociraptor of Jurassic Park fame. The program walks the viewer through several of these, including Tiktaalik which was discovered during the Dover trial.
Tiktaalik is a transitional species between fish and amphibians (one of the first 4 legged land creatures). Based on the fossil record, scientists knew that the first land creatures lived about 370 million years ago. So, they decided to look for rocks of that age to search for transitional fossils of the first land critters. They found some exposed rocks of that age in Northern Canada, and after three years of looking (Topeka!) they found fossils of Tiktaalik. This critter has scales like a fish, a flat head with eyes on top like an amphibian, and appendages that have fin-like webbing and the beginnings of shoulder, elbow, and wrist joints.
In short, we have a theory (evolution) that gives rise to a testable prediction (fish gave rise to amphibians ~370 mya) and a test (guys went out to rocks that old and they find evidence that the theory was correct). This happens all the time!
Suppose you are a proponent of ID. What used to be a "gap" that could never be explained by science gets explained by science. What do you do? You should just pack up and call it a day, but instead you either ignore it or pick another gap and claim that gap #2 can never be explained by science.
Inquiry 2: Intelligent Design = Creationism
Beginning with the Scopes "Monkey Trial" in 1925, evolution and creationism had been hot topics in the courts until the Supreme Court found that Creation Science "embodies [the] particular religious tenant" that we were created by a divine creator. Edwards v. Aguillard, 482 U.S. 578 (1987). Consequently, the promotion of "Creation Science" was thereafter prohibited in public school classrooms.
However, the Dover School Board wasn't attempting to teach "Creation Science." They wanted to present Intelligent Design to their students as an alternative to evolution. To do so, they proposed a companion book called Of Pandas and People. According to the School Board this was neither a Creation text nor even a religious text. Instead, they argued that this is a legitimate scientific viewpoint that happens to resonate with them because of its compatibility with their own independent religious views.
Now, this is where lawyers become Archaeologists. Pandas came out in 1989 after several years of development. The Parents subpoenaed all the old drafts of the book from the publisher. This amounted to about 7000 pages. However, they had a theory to guide their search. They compared the pre-Edwards drafts of Pandas with the post-Edwards drafts. This is what they found:
Pre-Edwards: "Creation means that various forms of life began abruptly through the agency of an intelligent Creator with their distinctive features already intact - fish with fins and scales, birds with feathers, beaks, and wings, etc.Two words, same definition. They even found instances in the drafts where the authors were careless in their efforts to cleanse the text. For example, in one case they inserted 'design proponents' without taking out all of 'creationist' leaving "cdesign proponentsist."
Posts-Edwards: "Intelligent design means that various forms of life began abruptly through an intelligent agency, with their distinctive features already intact..." [emphasis added]
In short, we have a theory (ID is merely creationism repackaged) that gives rise to a testable prediction (creationists relabeled their theory after the Supreme Court ruling) and a test (diligent lawyers look at texts from that period and find that they were right). Now that is how you win a court case!
And they did. Judge John E. Jones, III, ruled that "it is unconstitutional to teach ID as an alternative to evolution in a public school classroom," the school was ordered to pay the parents' legal fees, the city voted out the entire school board, and Pat Robertson told them not to turn to God if a disaster strikes Dover. All is right with the world!
Anyway, this post is no spoiler. You should still watch the program. It does a great job of chronicling the turmoil and division in the town during the controversy, with many interviews with people from both sides. It was an amazing event that was not without costs.
If you would like to learn more, I recommend that you read this excerpt from the trial transcript. It is the testimony and cross examination of Kevin Padian, a paleontologist from U.C. Berkeley and expert witness for the parents. He does an amazing job of laying out the depth and breadth of evolutionary theory and contrasting it with ID.
The program mentions how the reporters who sat through the trial wondered why they didn't learn this stuff in school. The reason: evolution has been so controversial, even after 1987, that text book publishers have chosen to gloss over it so their sales won't be threatened. In the words of the Judge: "In an era when we're trying to cure cancer, where we're trying to prevent pandemics, where we're trying to keep Science and Math education on the cutting edge in the United States, to introduce and teach bad science to 9th grade students makes very little sense to me. Garbage in, garbage out. It doesn't benefit any of us."
Monday, November 5, 2007
Who's Watching You at the Table?
[My, how time flies when I'm consumed by my studies! Here's a quick post on a topic near to my heart (poker) to help get me back into the swing of things. However, I recently attended a thought provoking (er, and disturbing) speech by the founder of the pro-life group Operation Rescue, so a post on that topic is in the works. But first, let there be poker!]
My mother (Hi Mom!) will be pleased to know that I haven't been playing much poker lately due to time constraints and such. However, three weeks ago I did take a jaunt out to Atlantic City with my close, personal friend Megas Janis, and there I managed to log some table time.
It got me thinking about the differences between online and live poker, and why I prefer the latter. The most obvious difference, of course, is the fact that you can't see your opponents when you play online. For people who put a lot of stock in detecting 'tells' which betray the strength of their opponents' hands, this is a pretty big issue. However, for me tells aren't a big part of my game - I don't spend a lot of time looking for them, and I think I'm good about keeping mine concealed (unless Marty would like to inform me otherwise).
Thus, it has always puzzled me why I seem to do better live. If the difference isn't in the tells, then where is it? Well, let's just say, if I handn't figured out the answer, then this would be a very short post.
In the live game, I can tell who is paying attention to the hands I play and how I play them. It turns out, this is kind of a big deal. See, the practice of establishing an expectation in the minds of your opponents and then strategically violating that expectation in the most profitable way possible is a critical component of a winning poker game. You create the expectation through your play of past hands, but you can't know whether you've succeeded unless you know whether your opponent was paying attention.
Online an opponent could be focusing intently on every move you make; he could be playing 8 tables at once; or he could be drunk, half-asleep, and watching football while he plays. You would never know.
But in a casino, I can see who is watching the table and who is watching TV. I can even engage people in conversations about the action to see what they have noticed. Heck, often, players will come out an tell you how they have assessed you. For example, in AC one guy said to the table, "[Mark] is just trying to sucker us into a big pot." At the WSOP, another guy announced, "You sure like hands like 9-7 offsuit, don't you?" These guys are doing me a favor! Not only are they telling me what they think, their educating the whole table. Once I know what everyone thinks of me, it is easy to act accordingly.
As a result of this revelation, I think I will focus more on playing in a manner that will make me the center of attention at a table - drive the action a little more. If I can make people notice, I will know what they have noticed - plus, its lots of fun.
Now, I just need to find the time to actually play poker.
BONUS for Mom: This Wall Street Journal Law Blog post is about two distinguished Harvard Law professors and their personal and professional interests in poker. Here's a great quote from Prof. Charles Nesson:
My mother (Hi Mom!) will be pleased to know that I haven't been playing much poker lately due to time constraints and such. However, three weeks ago I did take a jaunt out to Atlantic City with my close, personal friend Megas Janis, and there I managed to log some table time.
It got me thinking about the differences between online and live poker, and why I prefer the latter. The most obvious difference, of course, is the fact that you can't see your opponents when you play online. For people who put a lot of stock in detecting 'tells' which betray the strength of their opponents' hands, this is a pretty big issue. However, for me tells aren't a big part of my game - I don't spend a lot of time looking for them, and I think I'm good about keeping mine concealed (unless Marty would like to inform me otherwise).
Thus, it has always puzzled me why I seem to do better live. If the difference isn't in the tells, then where is it? Well, let's just say, if I handn't figured out the answer, then this would be a very short post.
In the live game, I can tell who is paying attention to the hands I play and how I play them. It turns out, this is kind of a big deal. See, the practice of establishing an expectation in the minds of your opponents and then strategically violating that expectation in the most profitable way possible is a critical component of a winning poker game. You create the expectation through your play of past hands, but you can't know whether you've succeeded unless you know whether your opponent was paying attention.
Online an opponent could be focusing intently on every move you make; he could be playing 8 tables at once; or he could be drunk, half-asleep, and watching football while he plays. You would never know.
But in a casino, I can see who is watching the table and who is watching TV. I can even engage people in conversations about the action to see what they have noticed. Heck, often, players will come out an tell you how they have assessed you. For example, in AC one guy said to the table, "[Mark] is just trying to sucker us into a big pot." At the WSOP, another guy announced, "You sure like hands like 9-7 offsuit, don't you?" These guys are doing me a favor! Not only are they telling me what they think, their educating the whole table. Once I know what everyone thinks of me, it is easy to act accordingly.
As a result of this revelation, I think I will focus more on playing in a manner that will make me the center of attention at a table - drive the action a little more. If I can make people notice, I will know what they have noticed - plus, its lots of fun.
Now, I just need to find the time to actually play poker.
BONUS for Mom: This Wall Street Journal Law Blog post is about two distinguished Harvard Law professors and their personal and professional interests in poker. Here's a great quote from Prof. Charles Nesson:
It's really the poker way of thinking that is the most deeply intriguing thing to me. The essence of poker is this business of seeing from the other person's point of view... If [law students] want to do something useful in their outside time, they should play poker.
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