Monday, June 28, 2010

C3001-103 Thanksgiving: Flowers

      I see an enormous variety of plant life on my short walk near the Coke Ovens behind my house.  I see an elaborate and profound sense of order that one would hardly expect to find in a field of pure randomness.  I see a consistency from plant to plant: everywhere the species-specific sameness of morphology and habitat; and all of that in the same precise sliver of time and season; and all of that, too, with an extreme profusion where I would have expected to find only paucity and want.  I see a commonality in the plan to produce seeds, with multiplied and endless examples of sameness, as well as extended and astonishing examples of variety.  I smell the aroma of Canada Thistles and I am surprised at just how kind and thoughtful it was that God had scented something so common with such an exquisite fragrance.
      They may tell you that all of those wonders came from random mutations and natural selection.  I smile at their naïveté and I find it strange that they have never actually looked at the miracles surrounding themselves.
      I find it far easier to thank God for planting his flower garden in the field behind my house, and I content myself to look at it with praise and wonder and thanksgiving.

Friday, June 18, 2010

B5014-3 Moron Science: Life from a Wildcard

   “An obscure compound known as pyrophosphite could have been a source of energy that allowed the first life on Earth to form, scientists now say.
   “From the tiniest bacteria to the complex human body, all living beings require an energy-transporting molecule called ATP to survive. Often likened to a ‘rechargeable battery,’ ATP stores chemical energy in a form that can be used by organic matter.
   " 'You need enzymes to make ATP, and you need ATP to make enzymes,' said researcher Terence Kee of the University of Leeds in England. 'The question is: Where did energy come from before either of these two things existed? We think that the answer may lie in simple molecules, such as pyrophosphate, which is chemically very similar to ATP, but has the potential to transfer energy without enzymes.'" (Macintosh, 12 June 2010, LiveScience.com)

a.    Stated in Other Words:  Let’s recast Zoë Macintosh’s initial sentence, “An obscure compound known as pyrophosphite could have been a source of energy that allowed the first life on Earth to form...,” into a generalized popular science formula, thus:

[wildcard] + [subjunctive operator] + [necessary condition] >[(filter) result]

In this instance:     a)    “Pyrophosphite” is the [wildcard];
                            b)    “could have been” is the [subjunctive operator];
                            c)    “source of energy” is the [necessary condition];
                            d)    “first life on Earth” is the [result].

b.    The Unstated Assumption: When considering explanations in modern science, all explanations of substances, processes, or methods must pass through the [filter] of  purely physical explanations - please do not drag God or supernatural beings or the Bible into these “explanations.”  Necessarily, all explanations gravitate toward this physical basis, and explanations of any other sort are rejected out of hand as “unscientific.”

In this instance:     e)    “purely physical explanations” is the [filter];

Notice however, that on the sole basis of physical explanation, the statement, 1) “The moon is made of vanquished dreams,” is considered “unscientific; whereas, the statement, 2) “The moon is made of green cheese,” is considered scientific (albeit somewhat fanciful and open to further investigation).  Unfortunately, the scientific “filter” often leads to absurd and/or unsatisfactory results, as the second example appears to indicate.

c.    The inherent Shakiness of the Subjunctive: The far greater problem with using the subjunctive in science is the ease with which a person can render the argument totally moot: one only has to affirm the contrary in order to put the “scientist” in a rather unenviable spot.  Consider this: Zoë Macintosh’s sentence, “An obscure compound known as pyrophosphite could have been a source of energy that allowed the first life on Earth to form...,” can be instantly contradicted by saying, “An obscure compound known as pyrophosphite could not have been a source of energy that allowed the first life on Earth to form...”  Then Ms. Macintosh would be forced to present...evidence...for her assertion, which is, of course, a rather heartless thing to demand of that poor, struggling science writer.  For, you see, the subjunctive is always used when, 1) There is no presentable evidence worthy of the name, or, 2) There is no possibility of falsifying the assertion being made, or, 3) When it’s impossible to know when we “have arrived at our destination of truth.”  In short, the subjunctive is used to spout nonsense - “scientific” or otherwise - in the guise of a reasoned argument, and it is another way for a scientist to say, “I don’t know.”

d.    Deus-Ex-Machina and Other Quandaries:  The question all scientists must answer about first life on earth is one of genesis without the deus ex machina: how is it possible to account for life as we know it without resorting to creation-by-God (or whatever other deity/magic/process you might want else to consider)?  Somehow, many modern scientists regularly shun God-as-creator as an inadequate explanation; instead they settle for highly improbable explanations as more “scientific.”  Go figure.  But that’s what happens when they swim in the pond of knowledge wearing the leaden jacket of the physical world.
   Even if one pretends that pyrophosphite is the magic bullet that allowed energy-transportation in the primordial soup, how does life itself arise from that?  Energy transportation by means of ATP is a process of life.  But it is not life itself.  Do you see the difference?  How does this one tiny sliver of process integrate with the countless other slivers of process to create the life of an organism?  What is missing here is the matrix of the organism itself.  ATP energy transportation, as assisted by pyrophosphites or other [wildcard] substances, does not occur with any meaningful use outside of the organism.  Instead, one relatively useless organic compound is changed into another relatively useless organic compound.  The primordial soup just gets a little thicker, friends.
   There is a principle involved here: the discovery of a single rivet does not an Eiffel Tower make.  And you can try as hard as you may, but you can’t get that ATP energy transportation process to stand up and salute the flag by itself.

e.    Improbable Beliefs Riding on Horseback While Walking on Stilts, and Other Nonsensical Things:  We are dealing here with the extrapolation of principles from known processes to probable origins based upon those processes or upon fugues of vivid imagination.  And, of course, both are always silly endeavors.  For example, observing people crossing the street at a busy intersection does not say anything about the origin of life from some primordial soup eons ago.  Each one of us understands that intuitively.  It is always a mistake to pretend that it is possible to look at something we think we know (say, energy transportation via ATP), and then make suppositions about something we actually do not know (say, the origins of first life).
   The two things are not only different in kind; they are different in teleology.  Notice the difference in kind: one is a process (energy transportation via ATP) and the other is a genesis of origin (life from simple chemistry alone).  Then notice the difference in teleology: ATP as a means of transporting energy for life processes, and the origin of life itself for [wildcard] reasons (which may be unstated, or random, or deus-ex-machina, or as fanciful as gilded unicorns crossing the Rainbow Bridge to prance in the Field of Dreams on the other side).  Pick one and run with it.  However, it is always acceptable to say, “It beats the hell out of me,” when dealing with questions about the origin of life by purely physical means. 
   Just don’t say, “An obscure compound known as pyrophosphite could have been a source of energy that allowed the first life on Earth to form...”

Monday, June 14, 2010

B5014-2 Moron Science: Internet Science Writers

Some random comments about people who write popular science articles for the internet:

Sophomoric: They are, if one may generalize, a people who tend to have a sophomoric and starry-eyed understanding of science and what science can do in the lives of people.  One gets the impression when reading one of their articles that one is speaking with a 12-year-old nerdy sort of boy explaining the intricacies of atomic particle accelerators.  A single, pertinent question will often stop their narrative cold - as if they hadn’t thought it through.

Uncritical:  The writing often comes across as a Mechanics Illustrated, Gee Whiz, Who’d a Thunk It sort of writing, lacking in elegance and grace, and without the requisite skepticism that would prompt other writers to look more critically at the subject matter. At times, popular science writers fulfill the role of cheerleaders; other times, they function as ordinary mystics. Always, they come across as unthinking, uncritical, and undiscerning writers - clownish, really, if I may say so.

Shibbolethic: Certain words seemed to appear with monotonous regularity in their writing, especially words such as, “peer review.”  The writers often give the impression, that by using such words, they have “nailed” those who might raise objections to their silly writings. Of course, nothing is further from the truth. “Peer review” simply means that like-minded people have looked at a document.  Period.  Peer review does not mean that knowledgeable people have expressed independent opinions about an article.  Rather, it means that like-minded people have looked at a document and nodded their heads in unison. Peer review’s nearest analogue would be something more akin to American Legion members holding both, 1) pro-military views, and 2) saluting the American flag on Memorial Day. In both cases, it would answer the simple question, “So, what else would you expect?”
            To state that a particular piece of scientific work “has been peer-reviewed” is not to make an argument for the efficacy or merits of an actual scientific work.  “Peer review,” to be sure, is not a magical incantation, although it is often used as such.  Rather, it is a description of misplaced enthusiasm for a particular scientific project. Most tellingly, it is an assertion of one’s complicity in current scientific beliefs.  In itself, it is harmless and simply reflects the boot- polishing mindset of the modern, popular science writer.  “Peer review” is an abbreviation for the longer, more complex argument that seems to say, “We just know better, so don’t argue with us.” Its effect is to tell us to close our mouths and not to question what is being said.  “Peer review” is a science writer’s way of telling others to shut up because, hey, this is...Science.

Useless: Ultimately, the modern science writers’ articles are useless.  And that is because they hardly ever express scientific facts and principles.  Instead they present wild fantasies that cannot be verified. There is always some Big Bang that travels through an evanescent Wormhole and gets lost in a Black Hole in some outlying Nebula so remote in history as to be incomprehensible. We are expected to sit there and nod our heads up and down slowly as though we understand what is being said and as though we agree with the nonsense being spouted.  The popular science writer’s audience is filled from sea to shining sea with naïf dolts who possess an extensive science jargon and - this is the important part - an empty empirical platter.

Magical Thinking: There is a catechism among science writers which seems to teach that even the smallest instance of water on the planet is proof in itself that life once existed there. How happy they are to report that a piece of ice the size of a man’s fist was found on some remote planet that has no hospitable atmosphere and gravity strong enough to sink a man to his armpits in the barren soil.  And, of course, they postulate that an abundant zoology exists there without any evidence other than that dirty chunk of ice the size of a man’s fist.
            There is such an insistence upon supposing that life exists among the billions and billions planetary systems beyond our own. Logic and reason alone suggest as much. And to doubt that postulate itself is to doubt the very foundations of science.  But all they can show us for evidence is that dirty chunk of ice the size of a man’s fist. Then, they pretend that we are really weird because we don’t believe their asseverations. Show me life (as we know it) on that planet with a 900̊F surface temperature and an atmosphere mostly composed of ammonia gas - and I’ll eat my hat.

Subjunctive Mood: Have you ever noticed how often modern science writers use such words as “could,” or “might,” or “may,” or “possibly,” or “maybe,” or “probably” whenever they write about planets hundreds of light-years away from our own. Granted, they do not flaunt the subjunctive mood when they talk about their big-as-life neighbor next door. That’s because anyone can knock on his door and take a good look at him.  But when they consider something that is so far away that nothing can be verified, then they lapse into thinking that is wondrously sprinkled with coudas, wouldas, and shouldas: “Life could have arisen from that expanse of sand and rock so far away because we have found a chunk of dirty ice the size of a man’s fist nestled in the penumbra near the pole, and that probably means that there is life on that planet.” Indeed. But how could we ever disprove such ineluctable logic?
            The subjunctive mood seems to work best when its object can’t be examined close up. The part of the universe that is so remote and so far away - both in terms of distance and time - is often found to be dotted with subjunctive descriptors as numerous as the pimples on a teenage boy’s face. Happily, all of those remote and distant planets and objects are beyond practical observation and examination. Science, which normally cries out for empirical examination and experimentation, simply cannot be performed on something so remote and so far away. The so-called Big Bang Theory is the most pertinent example I can imagine that is wholly beyond the possibility of examination and experimentation.  It is, to be sure, a theory that falls completely outside the realm of science.  And yet, it is treated as a serious scientific theory and is taught regularly in the science classroom.  Have these people got any idea what science really is?