Plugging skepticism, badly
I'm studying video this term, and the module project is to produce a 3-5 minute film by early January. Today was proposals day, and I pitched a documentary-ish thing based around skepticism. I started out by introducing the concept of skepticism as an organised movement, followed by skeptics and the kinds of things we're interested in, and I'm not sure I did a very good job.
For starters, one of the teachers was pretty hostile. She immediately asked if I'd heard the modern view that science just 'proves' whatever it wants to prove1, and later called skeptics 'annoying'. Another was clearly unconvinced but didn't argue, while the third listens to Little Atoms but sometimes finds it a bit 'fundamentalist'. I think my maybe-a-little-contemptuous response of 'fundamentalist?!' stopped him arguing further, but I'm not sure he was any more won over than the others.
I'm not really bothered what the teachers think of me, though - I'm more concerned that I came across a bit too strident to my classmates. I'm unused to speaking about skepticism to non-skeptics, and I worry I didn't pay enough attention to we-attack-ideas-not-people. I spent ages trying to define modern skepticism2, when I should perhaps have concentrated more on the general impression. I used the example of a recent lecturer who claimed racism is caused by stress over parental genitalia3. I called it a highly dubious realm-of-science claim, about an issue that actually matters, and said she needed to offer some evidence to back it up. This might have seemed a bit know-it-all. Plus, arguing with the teachers in front of everyone is probably self-indulgent. Given that organised skepticism genuinely isn't unfriendly, I'm annoyed that I may have promoted it badly. Sigh.
That said, I'm somewhat sleep-deprived after the past week and it's possible my judgement is off, but I've felt slightly abashed all evening. Grmph. Still - they approved my idea!
Tim Minchin
I saw Tim Minchin yesterday. I tried to tweet about his show afterwards and couldn't find the right word - 7hrs sleep over 48 will do that to you - but someone else came up with the perfect expression: he was phenomenal. Here's his most well-known piece, Storm:
Proper superstar, that guy. The rest of his act is piano-based, and he closed with his Christmas song, which had me, and half the audience, in tears. He totally deserved the standing ovation.
TAM: London announced
For the last few years I have gazed with envy, resentment and not a little drooiling at the annual bout of skeptical awesomeocity that goes down each summer in Las Vegas. The Amazing Meeting (henceforth known as TAM: Vegas, just because it then sounds like CSI and is therefore made of win) brings together many of the world's most interesting skeptical thinkers for a few days of lectures, comedy, magic, skeptical-guard-down chitchat, and general madness.
Sadly, I can never go: getting to and staying in Vegas is unfortunately way beyond my budget. For years there been rumours and fleeting mentions of a European version, but nothing's ever come of it. Until today.
New JREF President Phil Plait this afternoon announced TAM: London, to be held on October 3-4. May I say: w00t. And furthermore may I say: w00t^2. Just try and stop me being there.
In short, skeptics are soppy
I have a tentative, late-Saturday-night hypothesis that people who describe themselves as skeptics are also likely to be hopeless romantics. For example, lots of skeptics are very fond of Love Actually, while cynics - the nemesis of any real skeptic - take great pains to point out they WEREN'T AFFECTED by that film's sentimental1 nature. One of the Mythbusters guys watches 'Medium' purely for its touching portrayal of a marriage. The S2 and S4 Doctor Who finales brought half the skeptical community to tears. Skeptical bloggers seem, to me, to declare their love for a partner far more often than the average political blogger.
I have no statistics, or even any links. It's more an impression than, you know, anything empirical. I am a rubbish scientist. This isn't going to stop me from extrapolating, though: maybe it's related to appreciation of wonder, or maybe skeptics have thought more about the interplay of reason and emotion. Maybe it's just a general sensitivity.
Or maybe I'm just talking rubbish. Potential problems:
- Confirmation bias - I'm only noticing those who are.
- I don't know enough skeptics...
- ...and those I follow online are part of a group that regularly inter-link, so could be similar people.
- It could be that many people are hopeless romantics, but skeptics are more likely to admit it.
- ...many, many more.
But I'm sticking with it anyway. I'll write a paper one day.
- I have another theory that explains critics' overuse of this word. You have to ask: who would want to go into a profession that spends all its time tearing down other people's creative endeavours? Answer: people with no empathy - let's say, mildly sociopathic. So when these people see displays of emotion, their lack of empathy means they think 'that's not real', so they scream 'sentimental' like it's a bad thing. When in fact they're usually talking about feelings (other) people actually have in the real world. This theory is unassailable kthxbai. [↩]
An Evening with James Randi & Friends
James Randi is undoubtedly the most famous skeptic in the world. From his debunking of Uri Geller to the JREF forums / website, he's been on my radar since I was a kid. He's rarely in the UK, so when I heard he was visiting I eagerly snapped up tickets for his only public talk, at the NSS's Conway Hall last Saturday. He was flanked by five big names in skepticism, and the sell-out evening didn't disappoint.
Richard Wiseman handled compere duties with aplomb, mixing magic and jokes, and seemed totally comfortable in front of an audience. Chris French then introduced the evening and gave some background on Randi, after which Simon Singh talked about his own fairly recent discovery of the skeptical movement. Unfortunately I have a problem with Simon Singh, as I was explaining to Abi on Saturday morning.
Some years back he wrote an article criticising a scientifically-dubious Katie Melua lyric. I cannot support him on this, as one day Katie will be mine and I clearly don't want to jeopardise our relationship. Simon actually brought this up - the article, not the inevitable marriage - during his talk, and it turns out that Katie had phoned him a couple of days later and arranged a recording of a scientifically-accurate version of the song. Excellent - I can now like Simon Singh, and clearly Katie is even cooler than I thought. Sigh.
Ben Goldacre was as cool as you'd hope, if unfortunately beset by technical problems. His entertaining talk was also a neat demonstration of how sharp and knowledgeable the audience were - he mentioned the historical practice of alternative medicine practitioners creating fake qualifications, adding it was something that continued to this day. A murmur showed we knew exactly who he meant, and he was able to continue without mentioning her name, which pleased everyone
Then came the full-of-energy Susan Blackmore, who I'd most recently heard reducing a catholic commentator to incoherent ranting on the Jeremy Vine show, and she didn't disappoint in person. She gave a presentation on her work on parapsychology, and her journey from believer to skeptic. She gave this up in the 90's, but seemed to indicate she might be getting back into it, which would be a nice development.
After a break it was time for the main event: Randi himself. He's weirdly familiar - I've seen / heard him countless times in the past few years, and seeing him in person is oddly surreal. He spoke for an hour on general skepticism, and showed a few clips of his most impressive moments on the Johnny Carson show: psychic surgery, and taking out Peter Popoff. I hope it's not too patronising to say that for for a 79-year-old he was remarkably spritely! Very much on top of things, completely comprehensible and as acerbic as ever. I hope I'm in such shape at that age. He was, as ever, a touch negative regarding the whole fight against woo - other speakers had the same sentiment, but didn't seem so bothered - but that's forgiveable, given how long he's been around!
This was first event of its type to be held in London, and seemed to go well enough that more will be arranged. Hopefully next time the speakers will be able to get into some decent skeptical meat. I enjoyed the evening, but it was designed to be fairly light and introductory, with even Randi giving a pretty unfocussed speech, and I'd love to listen to a proper dissection of a topic. Definitely worth going, though, and I got to see some of my intellectual idols up close.
An Evening with James Randi and Friends
An Evening With James Randi and Friends is "an evening of discussion about science, pseudoscience, scepticism and the paranormal" on 19th April in London. Guests are:
Just a few of my intellectual idols, then. Tickets £11 / £5.50 concessions. I'll be there. Via bagrec.
Simon Mayo’s skeptical interview
Simon Mayo sat in for Chris Evans on Radio 2's drivetime show last week. I remember being amazed to discover I liked Chris Evans' show - the guy has a great way with words, and is seriously sharp - but he is a little credulous on occasion, particularly during the daily interviews with offbeat guests. It's not designed to be in-depth serious journalism, but nevertheless reaches millions of people and can add to the general impression of reiki, say, not being made-up bollocks. Last Thursday's guest was the editor of Dictionary of the Unexplained. I haven't heard Simon Mayo much, but I expected he'd continue the usual interviewing style. I don't have a transcript, but he began with something very much like:
So this dictionary is full of the paranormal. Tell me why I should believe a word of it.
He rocked! The editor came out with the usual gumph on keeping an open mind and having consulted 'experts'. SM ignored this and followed up with a question on the most frightening monster in the dictionary. She told of the chupacabara, a reported 'demonic entity' which sucks the blood from goats in Puetro Rico, but has also been sighted in the USA. He asked whether there was any actual evidence of its existence, and she replied that there'd been many sightings. He wasn't impressed, and moved onto the conspiracy theories and hoaxes - did she have a particular favourite hoax? She replied with the Moon Hoax, saying that newspapers in the mid 1800s reported sightings of flying men and bipedal beavers on the moon...
and people actually believed it!
Yeah. That's bonkers. Anyway, back to the goat-sucking monsters.
At the end of the interview SM asked what she was working on next. She said it was a book on 'lost crafts'. Good grief, I thought, this woman really is in deep. What's this - the bermuda triangle? The government hiding evidence of UFO crashes?
Like plucking a chicken, or thatching a roof. That kind of thing.
Ok. My bad.
She didn't come over as all that mental, in hindsight, and certainly a far cry from some true believers I've heard. But Simon Mayo didn't let her off lightly; I was very impressed. Great to hear some decent skepticism on the radio.
Charlie Brooker on Brain Gym
Is someone out there having Charlie Brooker's babies? If not, we should get right on that. Here he is after watching Newsnight's report on the Brain Gym, which is...I'll let him explain:
Brain Gym, y'see, is an "educational kinesiology" programme designed to improve kiddywink performance. It's essentially a series of simple exercises lumbered with names that make you want to steer a barbed wire bus into its creator's face. One manoeuvre, in which you massage the muscles round the jaw, is called the "energy yawn". Another involves activating your "brain buttons" by forming a "C" shape with one hand and pressing it either side of the collarbone while simultaneously touching your stomach with the other hand.
Throughout the report I was grinding my teeth and shaking my head - a movement I call a "dismay churn". Not because of the sickening cutesy-poo language, nor because I'm opposed to the nation's kids being forced to exercise (make them box at gunpoint if you want) but because I care about the difference between fantasy and reality, both of which are great in isolation, but, like chalk and cheese or church and state, are best kept separate.
Confuse fantasy with reality and you might find yourself doing crazy things, like trying to wave hello to Ian Beale each time you see him on the telly, or buying homeopathic remedies - both of which are equally boneheaded pursuits. (Incidentally, if anyone disagrees with this assessment and wants to write in defending homeopathy, please address your letters to myself c/o the Kingdom of Narnia.)
Brain Gym is a government-endorsed program. Doesn't it break your heart?
How to avoid getting attached to ideas
A recent Skeptics' Guide had a great tip on not getting emotionally attached to conclusions. This is definitely a failing of mine. Ask me whether organic food is worth buying and you'll get a fairly vitriolic, non-measured response. This is mainly because I don't like seeing people bilked, but I'm way more attached to the organic-food-sucks conclusion than I should be. I doubt I'd change my responses appropriately if the consensus opinion started to shift. This is particularly bad when you consider I don't actively follow the latest research, and that 'organic' has many different meanings. So I need to stop doing that.
Steve Novella's tip? Get emotionally attached to the process, not the conclusion. Fetishize the scientific method. Demand that appropriate evidence is analysed properly, and then accept whatever conclusion pops out. This also helps with spotting pseudoscience, and some kinds of logical fallacies, which start with the conclusion and search for evidence to back it up.
Sounds reasonable. I'll give it a go.
Uri Geller’s ‘Phenomenon’ prediction
The US tv network NBC recently broadcast a show called 'Phenomenon'1, a reality show which purported to look for the country's best mentalist. The judges were: ardent skeptic and magician Criss Angel, and Uri Geller. It was hotly discussed on the skeptical blogs due to its deliberate vagueness on whether the contestants were magicians or had real psychic powers - Geller obviously claims to be looking for the real thing, while Angel was quite the opposite.
By all accounts the latter dominated the show from the second episode onwards, when a contestant claimed to be able to talk to the dead. Geller was convinced. Shock. So, on live TV Angel produced an envelope and offered $1million cash to either if they could tell him the contents. Of course neither could, and the contestant reacted in the usual way - he was offended, angry and confrontational. This was funny (and possibly a little staged).
In the final episode Angel revealed the contents of the envelope, and some have claimed that Geller correctly predicted the contents:
Did you find that a little more impressive than expected? Yeah, me too. But watch it again - it's a great example of how memory lies.
It's initially impressive - he definitely seemed to mention the numbers nine and one. What are the odds of that? Well, despite the text, Geller doesn't just mention '1' and '19'. If you take just the numbers, in order it's '1', '20', '19', '40', '1'. Here's what you have to do to get to '911':
- Arbitrarily choose the 19 as an important number.
- It's backwards whichever way, so reverse it, for no reason.
- You need another 1, so choose just one of the two mentions of '1'. Maybe he mentioned it twice because it's important, or something. Put it afterwards, even though none directly follow it.
- Stop, for no reason.
There's no logic there, nothing replicable; nobody looking just at those numbers would come up with an obvious meaning of '911'. There are a huge number of possible numeric combinations if you allow the above machinations - '911' is clearly working backwards from the result, which isn't allowed. It's a hell of a stretch to get from these numbers to '911', but classic numerology. There are only ten digits - there's always some way to manipulate numbers to get the desired result.
Angel happened to have written a number in the envelope. But if he hadn't there's still plenty that could have been used to retrospectively claim Geller was right. He mentions december, months generally, days, births and spoon-bending, none of which is relevant. He doesn't doesn't articulate himself very well, but if you catch his final sentence he appears to be making some kind of point about his 40 years of success, and this seems to be his main aim - there's no hint that he's trying to make a prediction. And seriously, you're telling me that Geller, master showman, really knew the answer and chose to reveal it in a bunch of garble?
Plenty of YouTube commenters use a telling phrase when they call it 'interesting'. That's a desperate word. Even the most enthusiastic don't think there's any positive, smoking-gun evidence here, but it's still apparently suggestive of something, although nobody can say what. And that's the point. When working backwards, it's always possible to infer odd goings-on. A few years ago The Bible Code claimed that incredibly specific predictions could be found in the Bible by laying out all the letters, picking one to start with and moving up, down, left, right and diagonally, looking for phrases. This produced astonishing results, like the 'assassination of Yitzhak Rabin was in close proximity to letters spelling out his name'. But it worked backwards from a desired result. When heavily criticised the author said '[w]hen my critics find a message about the assassination of a prime minister encrypted in Moby-Dick, I'll believe them.'. So they did, producing predictions of the Kennedy, Martin Luther King and Yithak Rabin assassinations, as well as the death of Diana, Princess of Wales. Argument destroyed.
Geller did not say anything specific - everything is interpreted after the fact. He didn't make any claim about the contents of the envelope, nor did he make any claim about his intention to predict, or how his prediction would work. This doesn't make it 'interesting', this makes it 'ambiguous'. There's nothing to latch onto without making unjustified claims - Geller said something that, after rather a lot of manipulation, could be interpreted positively; why, when the most obvious solution would just be to say the answer? There's no answer to this, so you have to make something up. In this case, I guess it's that he was picking up the correct answer subconsciously. It's a red flag when this kind of extra supposition is necessary. Based on this extremely fuzzy evidence, which is more likely: psychic powers exist, or it's a mixture of chance and backwards thinking?
There's also the possibility that Geller, being an extremely capable con-man, was deliberately trying to load his comments with ambiguous phrasing in the hope of getting a random hit. I personally doubt this, as I think he'd have done a better job, but it's always possible - the guy's spoon-bending was debunked 30 years ago, yet he's still raking in the money from the same old shtick. Maybe he's more canny than I suspect. If he'd scored a miss nobody would have cared, and he could have easily dismissed it as due to Angel's attitude, but a hit of any kind (no matter how ridiculous) is going to go down well amongst his fan base.
It's clearly the work of various logical fallacies, but even if you were to grant all these at the very best you've only got a hypothesis - it's not evidence for anything. By his own admission Geller's been doing this for 40 years, so he must know how it "works" - why doesn't he take James Randi's $1 million challenge and give the money to charity? Why doesn't he get himself a Nobel prize, and change the world overnight? Strange, that.
I've read the skeptical literature on this kind of thing. I know about Geller's con-artistry and his techniques. I know about numerological chances, cold reading, and the intricacy and allusion-filled-nature of language. Yet still I found it impressive on first viewing. I want to believe that psychic powers are real and my natural instinct is to latch onto something that suggests it, but I have to engage my brain if I want to avoid being tripped up. I'm a bit of a rubbish skeptic in this respect, as it takes me a while to get into the right frame of mind. Fun, though.
The show solved one mystery, albeit not a very pressing one: we now know what happened to Tim Vincent.
- etc. [↩]
