Compulsory religion

I'll not dispute that religion is one of the central aspects of our modern society; that much is sadly a given. But what I want to discuss today is the question of whether children should be subjected to compulsory religious studies in school. This is the case here in England to the best of my knowledge - up to the age of 14 a child has no option but to study religion alongside science, English, maths, and history. Then, even if they don't choose it as an option at GCSE level, they still have to take one compulsory (non-assessed) class a week alongside their choices.

What is the value of this?

I can understand and agree with almost every argument in favour of the subject - excepting the evangelical "convert the heathens" viewpoint of course - but still fail to see why it should be a) religious studies in particular, and b) why it should be compulsory. I can see the value in studying other cultures (naturally including religions), and yes that could be seen to be a good thing to have as compulsory. But please, let's have "cultural studies" or something; I can't help but feel that an emphasis on religion is doing nothing to shake the grip which superstitious nonsense has upon society.

The other aspect people might want to involve as a positive in favour of religious studies is the fact that it allows children to think about "the important questions in life" - the classic being of course is there a God? But religious education doesn't allow this in my experience. It either takes a purely cultural/historical viewpoint, teaching what it is that various faiths believe, or it takes belief in God (usually Judeo-Christian) for granted. Then it basically turns into big questions like "what does God mean to me", and examining the nature of omnipotence etc.

While the latter form of enquiry can lead to worthwhile places, it is rarely given the chance because of the religious bias. In order to free up the endeavour for these "big important questions", one must remove as much bias as possible. The neutral standpoint in this abstract area is epitomised by philosophy. This love of wisdom is the most pure form of inquiry - no question is off-limits, and the more abstract or the more challenging the better. Should philosophy replace religious education as compulsory in schools then? I believe so, but there is one subject that I think should trump it.

Critical thinking. I took a short pilot course in critical thinking in college - it was worth half an A-level as far as qualifications were concerned, but it was worth far more in terms of the skills it provided. If it is well-taught, it can give the students the ability to think clearly and perceptively about virtually anything. Brian Dunning of Skeptoid fame has just released a free 40-minute introductory video for the subject, and I would like nothing more than for this to be played in schools all over the world at least once. It's called Here Be Dragons.

In closing, I'd very much like to see all compulsory aspects to religious education removed from the curriculum. I have nothing against educating our children in cultural and philosophical concepts, or even against making a certain degree of that education compulsory; but why must it center around nonsense? Why can it not be centered around an open, enquiring mind - no matter what conclusions that mind reaches?

Blink 7: The Moon Effect

A classic anecdote, particularly among such people as police and paramedics, is that (for example) the real nutters come out when there's a full moon. They don't usually go so far as to say that with every full moon comes a night with nothing but nutters, but do seem to suggest that there is a significant trend. If you want a good selection of anecdotes on this score, head over to the Yahoo! Answers page, "Full moon - does it bother you?" (be prepared for some industrial-strength ignorance).

The full moon has also been popularly associated with all sorts of things, like rises in suicide rates, crime rates, accident & emergency admission rates, alcoholism, natural disasters and many many more. Here's the important factoid for you to remember: there is no evidence to support these hypotheses. And yes, studies have been done.

What this is is a classic example of confirmation bias - one only notices the events which confirm the hypothesis that one has (consciously or otherwise) adopted. I won't spend a lot of time debunking all of this - it's a "Blink" post after all - so I'll just point you at a very useful SkepDic entry: "Full moon and lunar effects". There's a substantial reading list at the foot of that article if you want to look further into this subject.

Anarchy!

I've decided I need to blog more about political matters, if for no other reason than to keep my interest in that area alive. I mean, it was half of my undergraduate degree - I don't want to have wasted all that time. There's plenty of scope for it from a sceptical viewpoint, too: commentary on current legislation, criticism (or indeed praise) of particular politicians or parties for the quality of critical thinking they display; for this particular entry, I want to dispel a myth that has grown in the public consciousness. As you may have guessed from the title, my topic today is anarchism.

I don't think I need to go into an awful lot of detail as to the nature of the myth I'm attempting to dispel - it's a fairly familiar one after all. It is the view that anarchy is synonymous with chaos and disorder, and most usually associates it with civil disobedience and a refusal to recognise any form of authority whatsoever. There are many reasons for this portrayal, not least among them being the agenda of the ruling and elite classes. Obviously anarchism is a clear threat to their privileged position.

The other main reason behind the public misunderstanding of anarchism is its glamourisation in pop culture, such as the punk rock movement exemplified by the Sex Pistols. This really solidified the perception of anarchism as an extremist, disruptive and anti-progressive view; it also added touches of anti-intellectualism. All of this, ironically enough, has served only to marginalise and anathematise the idea, which was very much the purpose of the elitist agenda.

So how should it be perceived? Well if you know me at all by now, you'll know where I'm going to start: the word itself. The Greek word "Arkhos" means chief or ruler, and of course the "an-" prefix denotes a negative. It is simply the view of a society with no leader, no chieftain - no head (hence the term "acephalous"). This is not to say that there is no organisation or law in such a society - nor indeed that it would be primitivist and anti-progressive. In academic circles, the term "anarchism" is usually taken to refer to an anti-statist position, and "anarchist" to one who wishes to see the apparatus of state-governed society dissolved.

All very well, you might say - but what do they seek to put in its place? This is where the most surprises lie for those whose grasp of anarchy is simply an acceptance of the popular, chaotic image: they don't expect the anarchist to propose anything beyond the destruction of the state machinery. As a matter of fact, there are a great number of differing views within anarchism over exactly what form society should take.

Much of this disagreement stems from the level of authority of which the anarchist wishes to rid society - if it is simply centralised national government, then there are many options for organising people on a local level. If, however, they wish to enshrine the individual as the sole source of authority of every kind, then the result is inevitably the kind of chaos generally associated with the word. Clearly the more productive views are toward the former end of the spectrum, and there are many reasons why the latter would not work - or even be true anarchism.

There is much to be said in favour of an anarchist society; greater liberty being the most obvious and enticing. It is quite easy to conceive of a world in which people are able to function as a cohesive society governed not by elevated officials but by general consent. There is no reason why such a society would be amoral, as the popular depiction would have us believe - any more than would be true of an atheistic society. Indeed, there is an understandable trend toward atheism in anarchist thought.

The biggest problem for anarchism as a political ideal, however, is that it really is an ideal. It relies far too heavily upon goodwill and co-operation if it is to function at all well, and it is clear to anyone with even the most basic understanding of human nature that it simply would not work - the strong and unprincipled would rise to the top and exploit their natural position of power. I once wrote an essay on anarchism, and the quote I used to summarise at the end was this, from Andrew Vincent's Modern Political Ideologies:

Apart from some of the more rigid and strange absurdities of individualist anarchists, the communist, collectivist and mutualist anarchists express a millennial vision of what we would really like to be in our better moments, but which we know is relatively hopeless.

Just bear this in mind when you next hear the term "anarchist". In the true sense of the word, an anarchist is not a terrorist or someone bent on sowing chaos, but rather an idealist with a Utopian vision for society that will never be realised.

Did you know...?

I love trivia; those little "did you know?" boxes always draw my attention in an article, book or website. Maybe it's because the facts in them are often so quirky and interesting - and sometimes amusing as well. There are some of which one must be careful, however - for residing in these normally-trustworthy, friendly little boxes lurks something awful. Something twisted.

Lies!

That's right, dear reader: what you read under the heading of "Did you know?" may not be as sacred as we would like - particularly on the intertubes. I came across a list of "useless facts" recently, and while some I know to be true, and others I can believe, there were some in there that set off my scepticism alarm. These are the sort of things that are never questioned simply because they are trivia - who in the name of Hel cares? Well, I do. I just don't like the idea of ignorance being spread through trivia quizzes etc., masquerading as fact. Maybe that's just me. Here's a couple of examples for you.

Mel Blanc (the voice of Bugs Bunny) was allergic to carrots.

This is exactly the sort of "Did you know" I normally enjoy - completely pointless and yet amusing due to the irony. The irony is a little too perfect, though - and a quick search on the Mighty Wiki page for Mel Blanc reveals the story behind this pseudo-fact:

One oft-repeated story is that he was allergic to carrots and had to spit them out to minimize any allergic reaction; but his autobiography makes no such claim; in fact, in a 1984 interview with Tim Lawson, Blanc emphatically denied being allergic to carrots.

Well, without actually following this through into the actual transcripts of the interview, I would have to say that that about wraps it up for me as far as that little urban legend is concerned. Shall we move onto one which is a little less clear-cut and more, well, strange?

Studies show that if a cat falls off the seventh floor of a building it has about thirty percent less chance of surviving than a cat that falls off the twentieth floor. It supposedly takes about eight floors for the cat to realize what is occurring, relax and correct itself.

Firstly, I'm not even a little bit fooled by that catchphrase of credulity "studies show"... Did they really start dropping cats out of windows of varying height? I feel quite confident in saying probably not. Secondly, I've seen cats fall before - from slightly lower altitudes; they right themselves within a split second - and it's an instinctive reaction, not something that they have to take the time to relax and mentally work their way through. I think if your cat takes eight floors of descent to "realise what's occurring", it becomes a natural selection issue anyway.

Ah, "Did you know?" boxes. If you're not careful, they can make even the more sceptically-inclined drop their guard for a moment, because we read those boxes expecting to see something a little on the edge of credibility. If it sounds unbelievable, then do everyone a favour and read up on it before spreading it around to your family and friends.

Snopes is Dead Handy in this regard, as is the Mighty Wiki.

Blink 6: Beaten to it.

I was planning a nice short entry in my "In the Blink of a Sceptical I" series to start me back after being MIA in Essayland - this one about the preposterous claim that vaccines cause autism. They don't. The "rise" in autism is a statistical anomaly caused by broadening definitions, greater vigilance and improving detection methods.

However, while reading through my week's worth of RSS updates, I found that I had been beaten to it on this score. Rebbecca Watson of Skepchick.org - a woman with whom, it seems, I am more deeply enamoured every time she blogs - explains it all on her parody Crap-Based Medicine blog:

Do Vaccines Cause Autism?

She has such a way with words.

Substantial post to follow sometime in the next few days.

The anti-progressive sceptic

It is a sad and oft-times tediously annoying fact that the word "sceptic" has many differing connotations. I've mentioned this before, but it's something I continue to come back to mentally so I thought I'd subject you all to it as well. Phil Plait, the Bad Astronomer, recently defined "skeptic" simply as "someone who insists on seeing the evidence" - I'm probably paraphrasing but that was the jist of it.

And here's the etymology. The Greek word "skepsis" has an ambiguous meaning also - which has somehow either found its way through to the present day, or is simply coincidentally re-asserting itself now. It could mean "doubt" or "inquiry"; I would say that Phil's definition falls under the latter of those, and sadly the general definition in the public mentality falls under the former.

This is certainly not helped by those who term themselves sceptics in relation to a particular controversy, such as climate change sceptics, moon landing sceptics, or AI sceptics. Unsurprisingly for those who know me, it's the latter on whom I wish to focus today - though much of what I say can be generalised. Use your discretion in this regard.

I don't know if John Searle has ever been explicitly termed an AI-sceptic, but he certainly is one. I'm currently writing an essay on his arguments against the Turing Test, and while they're very intelligent, eloquent and influential, one can't help but get the impression that he is simply against the idea of an intelligent machine or computer program from a very ideological perspective.

It has been suggested that Searle's objections to the possibility of machine intelligence will one day simply be made obsolete by the progress made in the scientific and technological fields; that he and his supporters will have to give up their position when faced with the overwhelming evidence to the contrary. Eventually, proponents of AI claim, there will be a program which is capable of passing the unrestricted Turing Test. I find this a hard assertion to disagree with, as it's a little like denying that there could be intelligent life somewhere in the galaxy - it makes no sense to rule it out simply on the grounds of what we can observe today.

However, I don't think that any evidence will persuade "Searleans" away from their anti-AI prejudice, and Searle's Chinese Room Argument gives them the perfect excuse. It is based on a program that is capable of passing the unrestricted Turing Test, and as such, means that even if a machine did everything it could to fool you into thinking it was a human, the "AI-sceptics" are still able to deny that it thinks for itself, or understands in any way what it's saying and doing. The only reply one can give to this is to say that there is exactly the same amount of empirical evidence for the program's understanding as there is for a human's understanding.

This is the fundamental difference between sceptical doubt and sceptical inquiry - the former can lead to dogmatism and an arrogant refusal to face evidence and adapt one's ideas to suit. The latter is true open-mindedness, in the most beneficial sense. But I'll admit bias in that regard.

Fictional Sceptics #1: Lisa Simpson

She may be perpetually eight years old, but Lisa is the voice of reason in Matt Groening's The Simpsons.

Off the top of my head, I can think of a few examples of Lisa's scepticism in action - the most obvious of which is the episode The Springfield Files (starring the voices of The X-Files stars David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, as well as Leonard Nimoy). I'll share with you the wonderful opening line delivered by Mr Nimoy:

"Hello, I'm Leonard Nimoy. The following tale of alien encounters is true. And by true, I mean false. It's all lies - but they're entertaining lies; and in the end, isn't that the real truth? The answer, is no.

That really sets the scene for the whole episode. The basic storyline is that Homer gets tanked up at Moe's Tavern and has to walk home - through the woods. He gets spooked by various things along the way, and finally comes across a glowing, willowy figure who approaches him and tells him not to be afraid.

Everyone is sceptical of his story at first, especially Lisa who quotes odds from "Junior Skeptic Magazine" of alien life visiting Earth. Finally however, they manage to capture shaky, hazy video footage of the "alien" which, despite the poor quality, snares the attention of the entire town. Meanwhile, little Lisa insists "There must be a more logical explanation."

And indeed there is. As all the town stare aghast at the glowing figure (and threaten to break its legs), Lisa steps forward with a flashlight and cuts through the glow to reveal a certain Montgomery Burns. He's high on painkillers and had a vocal chord scraping; the glow comes from a lifetime of working in the nuclear power plant. Occam's Razor in action.

This is only one example of many, of course; mysteries abound in The Simpsons, and with few (if any) exceptions, Lisa is the voice of logic and reason. A true skepchick.

Vatican't

Today, the news rang out that the Vatican officially recognises the possibility of extraterrestrial life. I caught this news from the BBC, wongaBlog and Unscrewing the Inscrutable. As I search for the topic in my RSS feed, I find that Way of the Woo and Pharyngula now also carry commentary on the matter.

Now, one of the arguments you sometimes hear from the frothing lips of creationists is that dinosaurs never existed (fossils are there to test our faith), because it's nowhere mentioned in the Bible. Where, pray tell, does it mention extraterrestrial life? Nowhere that I've heard about. You'd think, if the Bible were the word of God, he might have mentioned somewhere that we weren't his only creation - his only world-building project.

I'd like to present you with an analogy which occurred to me, in thinking about the Vatican's latest madness. It's a desperate act taken to appear relevant to an increasingly outward-looking society; it's an aging dad trying to convince his kids he's still cool. "Look," he cries, as he gets to his feet to the dismay of his offspring. "I've still got it - the old moves are still sharp!" He proceeds to strut some abysmal approximation halfway between the rock & roll two-step of his youth and the moves he's seen his kids watch on MTV. Accordingly, his children react in the only way they can:

"Please, dad, you're embarrassing everyone."

Blink 5: I ain't no damn dirty ape!

Oh, but you are.

It's another favourite misconception of the anti-evolution crowd that so-called "Darwinism" (a term I strongly object to) claims that we are descended from monkeys. Ironically, their denial of this is accurate but misguided.

We are not descended from monkeys - we share a common ancestor.

The real confusion comes with the terminology, when the uninformed start using the terms "primate", "ape", and "monkey" interchangeably - and also get mixed up over which categories apply to humans.

Humans are not monkeys; we are, however, apes - and indeed primates. So if you were to say "humans are descended from apes", it's a tautology really - like saying John Smith is descended from Smiths. It's necessarily true simply by virtue of his belonging to that family. The same goes for "humans are descended from primates" - except that, in this case, so are monkeys. If the above image (click to enlarge) doesn't explain the difference as clearly as you'd like*, do please check out the very useful Wikipedia entries for monkeys, apes and primates for explicit definitions of each group.

Rebecca Watson put it in beautifully simple terms (SGU #146) with an analogy:

"Basically, we're all a bunch of cousins, grandpa's dead."

Can't top that myself.

* I do actually have an issue with the image - group #6 is captioned "apes and humans", whereas I would have made it "apes (including humans)", because the former implies separation where none exists.