Family holiday time this week (from the 9th to the 16th of January) up in sunny/windy/rainy Merimbula, a coastal town in New South Wales, less than 100km from the Victorian border. It took us about eight hours to drive here from Melbourne – a couple more and we could have reached Canberra, and a few more after that and we’d be in Sydney. But capital cities are far too busy and noisy for my holiday tastes, so quiet coastal town it is.
The Merimbula back beach. Note the overcast skies - it had been raining a few hours previous.
I have a confession though: I really hate beaches. Sand is annoying and gets in your shoes and clothes, swimming is overrated, and sunburn and my skin go together like a cliché and a bad writer. So, to protest my being forced to spend time around them, I’ll just be reading some of the numerous books I’ve acquired, both recently and a while ago. The priority at the moment is Stephen C. Meyer’s Signature in the Cell, which was sent to me in March last year by Paul Nelson.
Analysing Signature has actually been rather easier than I initially thought it would be. Not to spoil the eventual review, but the book reads like an autobiography crossed with a popular science book crossed with an undergraduate philosophy essay. I don’t say this to be inflammatory (although doubtlessly it will be perceived as such – hello Evolution News & Views, if you’re reading), it’s legitimately what I thought whilst reading it again, in the unfamiliar, yet architectural, kitchen of our rented holiday house. Meyer lays out his entire argument within the first twenty pages (something that was supposed to be saved for only two chapters much, much further in) and then spends the rest of the book regaling the reader with personal anecdotes, unsound analogies and plenty of rhetoric.
Signature in the Cell on the right, my trusty notebook on the left.
But enough about Signature. I’m not sure if I’ll get the review done this week, because there’s just so much questionable material in there – plus, I have at least four other books of interest to sink my teeth into. Oh, and potentially some beach walking too, if my family really wants to be mean to me.
Various echinoderms, cnidarians and algae clinging to rocks at the Merimbula Bar Beach. Biology!
So, I’ll be posting regularly after I get back. Internet access is weirdly sporadic up here, and it’s been pretty difficult to even get this simple post up. Hopefully I’ll also have some exciting things to announce after I get back, too, with any luck.
Now, you must excuse me, I have to see a man about a barbecue…
Personally, the concept of donating money to people whose online content you enjoy and benefit from has always seemed noble and sophisticated. My ideal model for a donation system is as follows. Someone does something amazing, with no intention of receiving any money for it, and then money magically appears in their possession, unannounced and unexpected. They profess infinite gratitude, the people who donated reassure them that they’re worth the (individually) small expense, and everyone gets on with their busy lives – the recipient now able to pay for whatever costs were encountered whilst producing the content in question.
However, ideals are usually figments of overoptimistic minds, and big problems with the above scenario are that: money doesn’t magically appear, sent through some sort of financial ether at a mere thought on the part of the appreciative party; and amazing, donation-worthy content is hard to come by.
I’ve always been apprehensive about asking for donations. Actually, I should rephrase that: I’ve always been apprehensive about appearing to think that I’m worth donating money to. Adding a big, shiny “DONATE” button to this blog has never felt right – it’s like I’m commanding my readers to donate something large out of obligation.1 And yes, I do have a link in the right sidebar to my Book Depository wishlist, but that’s always been easier for me to justify: many of the topics I both write about and learn in order to eventually write about on here are the focus of numerous books, some of them good, some of them terrible, all of them somewhat necessary for my self-motivated, informal education. I know I’m going to buy them all eventually, so having them bought for me does technically save me money in the long run.
But books are expensive – or at least expensive relative to the average amount of money the average appreciative person would want to spend on a young, inexperienced blogger with little to offer intellectually both those who agree and disagree with his contentions – and who wants to pay AUS$35 for a 10 year-old discredited book on probability, information theory and intelligent design? Most people probably think that’s like flushing money down a pseudoscientific toilet. Books with intellectual merit usually – and sadly – cost even more.
I still don’t like asking for monetary donations though. “Why would anyone want to give me money?” I think constantly.
Unfortunately this blog isn’t free to run, and I’m a university student who has only recently begun to realise how much financial trouble he will be in in a few years if he doesn’t start making every last dollar count. But if large monetary donations are out of the question, as are donations-in-book-form, what’s left?
Micro-donations seem to fit the bill. They don’t ease my awkwardness completely, as the process still involves people giving me money for (what I perceive as) no good reason, but at least the amount is small, so I don’t feel like I’m asking for much. Actually, I’m not really asking at all – in my ideal donation model the content producer is wonderfully surprised by the donations. For that to happen, I need to have absolutely no expectations at all that people will donate.
The micro-donation service I’ve decided to use is called Flattr. You can find out more here, but in essence, you (the donor) add a self-determined amount of money to an account and every month money is split between the people and content you chose to “flattr” by clicking on specific buttons on their site, like the one below.
There are obvious benefits and drawbacks to this. The benefits are that you can give small rewards to things you think deserve them – blog posts that made you think, videos that made you laugh, etc. – and you’ll never spend, in total, over the amount you set yourself every month. The big drawback is that it seems like a bit of a waste of time and effort to set up an account with Flattr if you’re only going to be donating to one or two things: not everyone uses Flattr as their donation system and you can’t donate to them unless they do. The number of people using the system is growing all the time, but it’ll be a while before it becomes the dominant system (if it ever does at all).
I’ll let you decide if you want to join up or not. Remember, I’m not expecting any donations. This is merely facilitation on my part – and it was hard enough to talk myself into doing even that.
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Sure, I’ve had one up in the past, but it wasn’t there for long. ↩
The Carnival of Evolution for January is up at The EEB & Flow, a group blog about ecology and evolutionary biology. Some of the topics covered in this month’s posts are:
The Cambrian “explosion”! Was it as rapid as is claimed by some?
Dinosaurs!
Human evolution!
Bat echolocation divergence!
A potential new history of HIV’s relationship with human populations!
The next CoE, for February, will be hosted by… someone, I’m sure. Make sure you submit your evolution-themed blog posts here anyway, if you are wont to write them.
In this episode of The Pseudo Scientists, the official podcast of the Young Australian Skeptics, Elliot, James, Jason and yours truly discuss misogynistic atheists on Reddit, anti-vaccinationist Meryl Dorey’s appearance at the Woodford Folk Festival, and the Pope’s Christmas address; and Richard and Alastair interview Brian Dunning, from the well-known podcast Skeptoid, about his experiences in Australia, and the future and direction of the skeptical movement (recorded at TAM Australia in November 2010).
There are so many great webcomics out there that every time I mention another I feel as though I should have already brought your attention to it. Scenes From A Multiverse is no exception. It’s clever, funny, and due to its sci-fi nature, often touches on areas in science and related topics.
Of course, this means that intelligent design was bound to come up sooner or later.
In this episode of The Pseudo Scientists, the official podcast of the Young Australian Skeptics, Jason, James and Richard discuss Year 11 and 12 high school science education, the Australian government’s efforts to boost vaccination rates, and anti-vaccination activist Meryl Dorey’s invitation to speak at the Woodford Folk Festival; and I talk to atheist/rationalist singer-songwriter Shelley Segal, whose debut LP, “An Atheist Album”, was released in November this year. We touch on the themes in her album, how she writes music, whether or not she would consider writing an album based around more traditionally skeptical topics, like psychics or alternative medicine, and she performs a live version of her song “Apocalyptic Love Song”, dedicated to Christopher Hitchens.
From the 6th to the 14th of July, 2012, the Discovery Institute’s Center for Science and Culture is hosting a seminar on intelligent design for college and university students, entitled “Intelligent Design in the Natural Sciences”:
The CSC Seminar on Intelligent Design in the Natural Sciences [emphasis in original] will prepare students to make research contributions advancing the growing science of intelligent design (ID). The seminar will explore cutting-edge ID work in fields such as molecular biology, biochemistry, embryology, developmental biology, paleontology, computational biology, ID-theoretic mathematics, cosmology, physics, and the history and philosophy of science. The seminar will include presentations on the application of intelligent design to laboratory research as well as frank treatment of the academic realities that ID researchers confront in graduate school and beyond, and strategies for dealing with them. Although the primary focus of the seminar is science, there also will be discussion of the worldview implications of the debate over intelligent design. Participants will benefit from classroom instruction and interaction with prominent ID researchers and scholars. Past seminars have included such speakers as Michael Behe, Stephen Meyer, William Dembski, Jonathan Wells, Paul Nelson, Jay Richards, Douglas Axe, Ann Gauger, Richard Sternberg, Robert Marks, Scott Minnich, and Bruce Gordon. The seminar is open to students who intend to pursue graduate studies in the natural sciences or the philosophy of science. Applicants must be college juniors or seniors or already in graduate school.
The more jaded and cynical of my readers may immediately dismiss this as an ID brainwashing program for students, a pseudoscientific form of the evangelical Christian summer camp seen in the 2006 documentary Jesus Camp. But I’m in the business of giving people the benefit of the doubt, especially when not giving people the benefit of the doubt can lead them to winning rhetorical points1.
Who does the Center for Science and Culture think would be good candidates for this seminar? What values should they have?
Do you have a commitment to truth and to following the evidence where it leads? Do you have the desire, the vision and the determination necessary to breathe new purpose into the scientific enterprise and influence its self-understanding in ways that will benefit both science and humanity?
Well, er, hello, that sounds a lot like me – if I don’t say so myself. Would I be welcome at this seminar, even though I’m part of the evil Darwinist conspiracy to drown intelligent design in the bathtub of philosophical materialism (or something)?
I’m being serious about this – I’d actually like to go. Not to “bring it down from the inside” or to disrupt the lessons and lectures, but to actually learn what the foremost ID proponents are going to be teaching the next generation of ID-sympathetic students. Presumably they’ll be going all out, teaching them the best arguments for ID in exquisite detail: what better place to learn about what the ID movement really considers to be its core strengths?
I’m open-minded. I don’t have an ideological bias against ID, since I consider its core idea to be not necessarily supernatural – I simply have not been convinced by all their reasoning that I’ve heard and read so far. My going to this seminar would be a great way for them to try and reach out to me, in the most effective way possible - face-to-face contact. Their ultimate challenge: convince the open-minded skeptic.
These are the admission requirements:
You must be currently enrolled in a college or university as a junior, senior, or graduate student. Required application materials include (1) a resume/cv, (2) a copy of your academic transcript, (3) a short statement of your interest in intelligent design and its perceived relationship to your career plans and field of study, and (4) either a letter of recommendation from a professor who knows your work and is friendly toward ID, or a phone interview with the seminar director.
Unfortunately none of my professors at university are sympathetic to ID, but other than that I’m fine. I have university holidays around that period too. They’ll even pay most of the costs of the trip!
Students selected for these seminars will be provided with course materials, lodging and most meals. Travel assistance will also be provided up to a specified amount.
At least one fellow of the Discovery Institute reads this blog – could any of you clarify whether or not I’d be welcome at this event? It might be a good opportunity for everyone involved, you never know…
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Attentive readers with good memories will remember that I blogged about the 2010 CSC student seminar nearly two years ago. My attitude towards them has changed a little since then. You might be able to tell. ↩
Merry Christmas, everyone. I hope you spend it with friends, family and/or cyborgs you programmed to be optimal social partners. Whatever makes you happy.
In my opinion, the greatest Christmas song ever written is Tim Minchin’s “White Wine In The Sun”. Chances are you’ve heard of it, but if not: prepare to develop a whole new level of respect for the guy.
Tim Minchin! Australian native! Funny man! Piano player! This song of his, written for the Jonathan Ross Show on UK channel ITV, has been making the rounds, as it was cut from the December 23rd show due to fears it would cause outrage from sensitive Christians. Well, there’s nothing like the Internet to amplify banned or censored content against the wishes of those who would suppress it, so Tim uploaded the cut clip to YouTube. It is – naturally – embedded below, for your convenience.
Also, it’s really funny apart from being scandalous, which is mainly why I’m sharing it with you all.
This is part of what Tim wrote both below the video on YouTube and in a blog post:
On Tuesday night last week, we taped the show. I met Tom [Cruise] (he’s nice and quite laid-back off camera, and not very short) and the divine Downton ladies (swoon) and the lovely Inbetweeners chaps (yay) and I did my song and everyone laughed and Tom said it was great and when it was done I ran off set onto the back of a waiting motorbike, got from South Bank to the Hammersmith Apollo in 13 minutes, walked into the building, straight on to stage to sing White Wine in the Sun with Professor Brian Cox. Rock n roll.
Subsequently, Suzi and her team edited the show and everybody was happy. Suzi felt it had a nice balance of big-ticket celeb action, local talent, and a nice bit of that cheeky, iconoclastic spirit for which Jonathan is known and widely loved.
And then someone got nervous and sent the tape to ITV’s director of television, Peter Fincham.
And Peter Fincham demanded that I be cut from the show.
He did this because he’s scared of the ranty, shit-stirring, right-wing press, and of the small minority of Brits who believe they have a right to go through life protected from anything that challenges them in any way.
Hopefully the song gets more exposure this way than it ever would have if it were never cut from the show at all.
As mentioned, I have a couple of pro-ID books that need to be read and reviewed these holidays: Signature in the Cell: DNA and the Evidence for Intelligent Design by Stephen C. Meyer, and Intelligent Design Uncensored by William Dembski and Jonathan Witt. While I’ve done preliminary readings of both books, in order to grasp their overall structure and scope, I recently started reading the latter in a greater level of detail.
What I’ve found has not been pretty.
Yes, Intelligent Design Uncensored is not a very healthy book to read, if you get angry at slick rhetoric in place of rigorous argumentation, blatant strawman arguments, and an easily digestible style of writing that doesn’t at all match with the supposed gravity of the topic at hand. Unfortunately, those are some of the things that push my buttons, so I’m not a happy little “Darwinist”. No sir.
In fact, it has been so infuriating so far that I’m seriously considering not doing a proper review of it: it may not be worth my time nor my effort. Meyer’s Signature is a much more worthy target – it’s held up by the ID community as some shiny tome of pure knowledge, blessed to humanity from the heavens, whilst Dembski and Witt’s book is a barely-mentioned teaching tool for prospective members.
Homologous Legs is the blog of Jack Scanlan, an Australian biology student who has a serious problem with creationists, intelligent design proponents and anyone else who misrepresents evolutionary biology or science in general.
He uses this blog to post news about the intelligent design/evolution "war", science communication in biology and chemistry, and mostly coherent thoughts from his scattered, music-loving brain.
