Category Archives: science

What You May have Missed — Science Edition

Here’s a science-y edition of our occasional collections of links to articles you may have missed. They’re mostly not deep science, so they shouldn’t tax the brains of you arty types! In no particular order …

It can’t be so people can make pathetic jokes about their intelligence, so just why is it that so many women go blonde? Ah, of course, it’s all to make Miley Cyrus look so much sexier! 😉

An English major turned science writer is amongst those defending the teaching of algebra in school. It’s part of our cultural heritage.

Does your cat pester for food? If so it might need a psychologist. It would be beastly to deny the creature such a pleasure.

Oooo-eeerrr missus! Insect sting fetishes?! I don’t think so, thanks.

So is (human) virgin birth a reality? Despite lots of looking it seems the answer is still probably not. Some interesting stories though.

Here are two aspects, both from Scientific American, of some recent work on consciouslness. First of all the question of whether self-awareness requires a complex brain. And secondly, scientists are suggesting that octopi are conscious, by which they seem to mean they’re able to think.

And finally one for the medievalists out there … A guy called Rob Colautti has created an evolutionary history of dragons. Definitely gets my vote for cool link of the week!

On Atheism and Science

Yesterday I came across two blog posts about atheism, both of which deal with science in different ways. And they got me thinking — or at least starting to think — about the relationship between religion (or lack of it) and science.

Before I go into my thoughts let’s have a look at what, for me, were some of the salient points from the two articles, both of which are worth reading in their entirety.

The first is a post is Atheism Evolves by Maggie Mayhem (yes, the sex positive activist and sex educator):

[I]t’s ridiculous to believe that all life on earth exists to serve humans. I am appalled when I hear this by both the religious and the irreligious.
[…]
The bible does not teach me how my hand works. It doesn’t teach me about how the human hand came to be. It doesn’t teach me why a human hand is physically advantageous for certain tasks nor does it tell me anything about how a human hand was selected for over time.
[…]
Many preachers have been great philosophers, social revolutionaries, and leaders. However … activism and education does not have to include a literal belief in the supernatural to be effective and empowering.
[…]
There is no one to save us from ourselves but ourselves … No one has the divine right to exploit their fellow humans.
[…]
However, atheism and skepticism are movements that have been primarily driven by people with immense privilege because it has taken that much privilege not to be destroyed by others for saying something so counter to what we’ve been taught for as long as we’ve been humans.
[…]
A silly belief does not displace my own. Laws, exclusionary practices, and violent retaliation does displace people.
[…]
Tokenism only serves the privileged, it does not broaden the viewpoints and perspectives. It does not help us better understand ourselves and our world when white men get to decide which marginalized people get to speak. Nothing is accomplished with tokenism.
[…]
Ideas are not physical spaces: you cannot run out of room. One of the greatest things about them is the way they intermingle and breed and create unimaginable combinations.

(Emphasis in the original)

Before we go on, just think for a moment about those comments on privilege and on ideas.

… … …

Powerful aren’t they?!

OK, so now for the second article, Why Science Can’t Replace Religion by Keith Kloor on the scientific Discover Blogs.

[O]ur brains and bodies contain an awful lot of spiritual wiring … you can’t simply dismiss the psychological and cultural importance of religion. For much of our history, religion has deeply influenced all aspects of life, from how we cope with death and random disaster to what moral codes we abide by. That science should (or could) eliminate all this with a rationalist cleansing of civilization, as a vocal group of orthodox atheists have suggested, is highly improbable.
[…]
[S]ome people, no matter their background, are prone to experience a more spiritual, as opposed to rational, connection to the universe … certain needs unique to the human condition cannot be satisfied by science alone. Scientists who prefer a strictly rationalist lens have a hard time accepting this.
[…]
Absolutism is one of the uglier traits of religion that still pervades too many corners of the Earth today, breeding intolerance and normalizing abhorrent actions. But a response that indicts all religion as a stain on humanity is equally absolutist.

More rather powerful arguments, which strident atheists like Richard Dawkins and PZ Myers would do well to heed.

And it was reading this second article hot on the heels of the first which got me thinking. Actually thinking about this muddled interface between science and religion and the way the two so often seem to be unable to coexist.

What I realised was that there seem to be two strands to all religious belief, and these do seem to be to encompass all religions, not just Christianity. The two strands of belief are:
(a) how and why the world (universe) came into being, and
(b) the importance and imposition of a moral code.
Some believers seem to me to need to embrace one or other strand; some, although I surmise down at the deepest level a minority, clearly need both.

And it is in these two strands that the conflict with science arises because in fact these two strands have different roots, viz.
(a) has a root in science (of some form), whereas
(b) has its root in thought and intellect (philosophy, if you prefer).

Now I need religion for neither strand: science does indeed satisfy (to the extent satisfaction is possible by any means) the first and I have the intellect to be able to handle the latter myself.

The problem is that many people conflate and muddle the two strands and hence become completely, though unknowingly, confused. For science — whatever it’s underlying belief: creationist or evolutionist — cannot ipso facto produce morals; it is merely explanatory. And equally philosophy alone cannot produce technical explanations; observation and experiment (ie. science) are also required.

Consequently it is not unreasonable that some scientists need a spiritual dimension/belief to give them a moral/cultural grounding. Equally it is reasonable that (some) theologians and philosophers need science to help them make sense of the universe.

Lucky is the man who can derive both strands from a single belief system, whether that is a religion or science. OK, I happen to believe that the religious viewpoint is erroneous, but then I am lucky enough to be able to derive both strands without religion. Not everyone is so lucky, and perhaps we should be more sympathetic to that. Is it moral of us to deny a “crippled man” a crutch, whether physical or mental?

Now I’m conscious that this is likely not a fully enough developed train of thought, being as it was scribbled down in five minutes at 11pm last night. But the fact that there are these two, seemingly unrecognised, strands does (at least for me) explain some of the confusion about how some scientists can need religion (spirituality if you prefer) and how the religious/spiritual may need science.

Anyone want to expand on this?

A Rich Seam

The “Feedback” column in the latest edition of New Scientist (dated 4 August) mines a rich seam of amusements.

First there is an item reporting some mathematical work in pointless topology, which is what most of us thought about higher mathematics anyway.

There is an item reporting a conference call for papers as specifying All papers and presentations must be incomprehensible English, as would be expected at a technical conference.

And there’s a product description for a solar light which is ideal for areas where conversational electrical supply is not available.

This is followed by an amusing reference to the Large Hadron Kaleidoscope.

Finally I have to give you this piece in full as a masterpiece of lateral thinking:

Talk about units in Feedback reminds Tony Emerson of a story from “the 1950s or 60s” about “a scientist working in one of the atomic establishments”. This person got fed up with directives to use different systems of units — those based on the centimetre, gram and second; those semi-officially based on the metre, kilogram and second; and the very official units of the International Standards Organization. So they reported pressures in stones per acre.

The stone is a traditional English measure of the weight of people or grain — 14 pounds or 6.35 kg — and an acre, a unit of area, is 4047 square metres. As Tony says, stones per acre would be “the original agricultural unit” of crop yield. Its application to atomic research doesn’t bear thinking about.

Inspired!

Wasps

I know many people don’t like wasps. People are afraid of them because they buzz irritatingly and because we have learnt they sting — rather painfully. And yes they can be annoying little buzzers. Generally if you ignore them, they’ll ignore you; but if you annoy them they’ll order reinforcements (and yes they do — using pheromones!).

But I happen to think wasps are wonderful creatures, unless you are one of the unfortunate very few who are allergic to them (when they are actually rather dangerous).

In fact all the social insects (bees, wasps, ants, termites) are amazing for the way their colonies are run and organised. But I am especially fond of wasps, because without wasps we would not have life as we know it.

That sounds like an overstatement. And until the other day I might have agreed.


Vespula germanica, worker

First of all, what I already knew, is that wasps are incredibly useful predators. Without them we would be knee deep in creepy-crawlies. Our common European wasp species, Vespula vulgaris and V. germanica, predate caterpillars, and indeed other insect forms, which they feed to their grubs. Most of the other social wasps do this; and many of the solitary wasps parasitise caterpillars. In fact almost every pest insect species has at least one wasp species that preys upon it or parasitises it, making wasps critically important in natural control of pest numbers.

If you’re an insect, wasps are formidable predators with paralysing stings and razor sharp jaws. I’ve seen a common wasp catch a large bumblebee, sting/paralyse it, snip off it’s head, wings and legs and fly off with the body (which it could only just carry) — all in about 60 seconds.

Wasps will also take carrion to feed to their larvae. If you have wasps around, try leaving out small piece of red meat (raw or cooked) and if you’re lucky you can watch the wasps chopping off small chunks and taking them away. (By the way the adult wasps feed on nectar and sweet fruit which is why they become more of a nuisance in the Autumn when they look for more quick calories to keep them going.)

Wasps are also incredibly good at destroying dead wood. They use tiny slivers of wood, often chewed into paper, with which to build their nests. We have a handful of old pine logs in our garden and in a just 3 years or so the wasps have largely destroyed many of them. On a warm summer day you can watch a continual traffic of worker wasps cutting off slivers of wood and carrying them off.

All that I already knew. So now for what I didn’t know. Indeed what until recently no-one knew!

As if all the above wasn’t enough it turns out that yeasts, and especially Saccharomyces cerevisiae — that’s the common yeast we use for brewing beer, fermenting wine and proving bread — likely overwinter in the guts of hibernating queen wasps, ready to spread on the surface of fruit (especially grapes) the following summer. Yes, until very recently no one knew this, despite S. cerevisiae being scientifically very important as a “lab animal” as well as commercially (and socially!) valuable.

In a recently published piece of research (you can find fuller reports here and here) scientists worked out that many species and strains of yeasts were overwintering inside queen wasps, being transmitted in the Spring to their new larvae, which then as adults reinfected fruits. Wash; rinse; repeat.

Other mechanisms for yeast overwintering are proposed, so this may not be the only way. But it looks as if it may well be a very important way. And it is a route which was totally unknown until recently. (In fact the natural history of yeasts is generally poorly understood, despite their importance.) As always more research, and more questions, beckon.

This is why I love science. We are still making amazing discoveries like this. The more we look, the curiouser and curiouser the natural world is.

Moral: If you have wasps around, LEAVE THEM ALONE; they’re amazing little creatures which provide us some good service.

Why I am a Chemist

There was an interesting article by Ashutosh Jogalekar on Scientific American Blogs yesterday called Why I am a chemist.

Ash makes many good points, but especially that chemistry underlies all the biology and physics and engineering that we see about us. Without chemistry (the design, synthesis and understanding of materials) we would have none of that: nothing from the early smelting of iron and bronze, through the Romans’ skills with glass, right through to modern concrete and carbon fibre.

Yes, chemistry encompasses everything from the synthesis of smelly bubbling green liquids, through the power of detergents, to a deep understanding of molecular structure via spectroscopy (which is what I did) and quantum mechanics.

All of this is chemistry. And it all underpins our world, both artificial and natural. Without chemistry we wouldn’t have modern anti-cancer drugs, or modern anaesthetics; we wouldn’t understand the biochemistry underlying photosynthesis; we wouldn’t have air-bags in cars or rockets that can take us to the Moon and beyond.

That is why I trained as a chemist. I wanted to understand how these things worked. (Although I probably couldn’t have put it is so many words at the time.)

And I am still sad that I had to give it all up because the mid-1970s recession meant there were no sensible jobs for chemists. That’s what happens in a recession, we lose the skills we’ve invested in, because no-one can afford to invest for the future. I can understand why, and it is a fine line to walk, but it is short-sighted especially when the education system is so unattractive as a job option that those who are displaced are lost to the discipline and not even attracted to teach and enthuse a future generation.

Would I do things differently if I had my time over again? Probably yes, if I knew then what I know now. I would certainly have worked harder (not difficult) to stay in research. And I might have looked more favourably on teaching. I certainly would have liked to continue as a working scientist rather than “selling out” (as my father saw it) to commerce. Science is much more fun that selling things.

Could I go back to it? No, not now, after nearly 40 years out of the field — much as I might like to. But at least I have retained a broad interest in science, and not just chemistry, so with luck I can still enthuse a few others along their path.

And it is still the simple things in science that enthral me. How metals are smelted. Why snowflakes have six-fold symmetry. How compounds are light sensitive. How detergents work.

Sleeping with Your Partner

Just a quick follow up to my post of the other day about the keys to a robust relationship and especially the one about sharing a bed.

Quite serendipitously the same day I happened across a reference to an article in The Wall Street Journal reporting on research which shows that there really are benefits to sharing a bed. For instance:

While the science is in the early stages, one hypothesis suggests that by promoting feelings of safety and security, shared sleep in healthy relationships may lower levels of cortisol, a stress hormone. Sharing a bed may also reduce cytokines, involved in inflammation, and boost oxytocin, the so-called love hormone that is known to ease anxiety and is produced in the same part of the brain responsible for the sleep-wake cycle. So even though sharing a bed may make people move more, “the psychological benefits we get having closeness at night trump the objective costs of sleeping with a partner”.

It’s nice to have some scientific support for my thoughts.

Links What You May Have Missed

A pretty mixed bag of the curious and interesting which you may have missed in this instalment. Let’s start with the historical …

Archaeologists reckon they’ve located the exact site, and part of the structure of, the Curtain theatre in London’s Shoreditch area, which was used by Shakespeare prior to The Globe.

Meanwhile on the south coast some other archaeologists have discovered wall paintings of a dozen or so medieval ships in a Winchelsea cellar. That has to be worth a visit!

Elsewhere historians are puzzling over the possibility that the ancients were also visited by UFOs and flying saucers.

From ancient history to natural history … You always wanted to know about turtle sex, didn’t you? Well here’s a disquisition on the terrifying sex organs of male turtles. We’re promised girlie turtle anatomy to follow.

While on the subject of sex (well you just knew there’d be more, didn’t you!) back in 2006 an American Roman Catholic nun and theologian wrote a sensible book about sex and relationships. But now the Vatican has decided it doesn’t like the content and has banned it. What price Galileo?

Now, what will the medics come up with next? Oh, I know, fungi. After investigating the bacteria and viruses which reside in our guts they’ve now started to investigate similarly located fungi.

Scientists have also been investigating whether whether human farts are germ-laden, or merely malodorous. Turns out they are germ-laden, but only if you’re naked.

So now for something a little more appealing. Emily is getting married. (Well people will do it, y’know!) But what’s this? The latest wedding accessory appears to be … a birdcage! Her only question is “why?“!!

And finally while on the subject of nubiles, didn’t you always want to know what was inside Kylie’s knickers? Well now you can thanks to a surprisingly interesting collection of X-ray images of of everyday objects as art.

Toodle pip!

Pieces of Pigeon

If you’re overly squeamish, or don’t like bits of things, then you might be advised to look away now.

A few weeks ago we discovered a decaying pigeon carcass hidden in a nook in the garden. When examined it was little but a collection of decaying feathers and bones; it had clearly been lying in it’s last resting place for some months. We managed, without too much mess, to salvage the breastbone and the skull.

Pigeon Sternum & Skull
Click on any of the images for larger views on Flickr

Having soaked them overnight in mild detergent (aka. shampoo) and given them a careful scrub with an old toothbrush they were allowed to dry thoroughly. Then I bleached and disinfected them twice, again overnight, in hydrogen peroxide, allowing them to dry thoroughly in between. They have then been sitting drying thoroughly again in the bathroom for a week or more.

(Whether this is anything like an approved method for preparing such specimens, I have no idea. I more or less made it up as I went along, and it seems to have worked. Being a chemist helps!)

Pigeon Sternum & Skull

These are the resulting photographs. The structures are amazing. Some of the delicate structure of the brain case can be discerned. So can the wonderfully intricate fine structure which is actually within the bone of the sternum (birds have very light bones filled with air-sacs which is I think what we’re seeing). The sternum especially is beautiful to handle: it weighs absolutely nothing, literally no more than a feather, and it feels like the most gorgeous and delicate waxed paper, something which isn’t so obvious with the skull.

Pigeon Skull

Just for the record …
The skull is 56mm from back to the tip of the bill, 20mm high, 20mm wide.
The sternum is 72mm long, 48mm high, 50mm wide.

Pigeon Sternum from Above

Next time you’re destroying a roast chicken (or even your cat’s next mouse) stop for a few minutes and look at the amazing structures before throwing the carcass in the bin. If you really want to see what the bones are like, boil them down in clean water (you can use the water for stock! — no maybe not the mouse!), clean them, then bleach them (domestic beach or hydrogen peroxide is fine; but not acid) and wash well in clean water; leave them to dry thoroughly. Finally be amazed.

This is why I love science and natural history.

More Kew

Here are a handful more photos from our visit to Kew Gardens on Saturday.

Click the images for larger versions
Lotus
Not a water lily but the sacred Lotus flower
growing in the Water Lily House

<i>Echinocactus grusonii</i>
Echinocactus grusonii
in the Princess of Wales Conservatory

Indian Horse Chestnut
The last of the Indian Horse Chestnut flowers

Lily Pond
The Water Lily Pond:
what a delightful spot on a sunny day!

Pagoda
The Pagoda looking drab in the dreary weather

General Pershing
Finally another tropical water lily, this is Nymphaea cv. “General Pershing”
in the Water Lily House

Kew Gardens

Yesterday we went to Kew Gardens to meet our friend Katy and her three children who are in London for half-term holiday, and trying desperately to avoid all the Jubilee shenanigans.

We had a great day. We’d agreed to meet at 10 and provision lunch for ourselves (we’ve not been impressed with the catering at Kew in the past); although Noreen and I did agree to provide cake for all: no mean feat when you’re meeting four cake eating fiends! We also provided a generous supply of home-made pizza.

Noreen and I left home too early. My fault as I was calculating on weekday rush hour traffic not that at dead of a grey wet Saturday morning. Even having stopped on the way to to acquire sandwiches and cake we arrived 30 minutes before the gates opened at 9.30. Boring!

Katy and troop eventually showed up just before 10.30 having (predictably) been stymied by the vagaries of London Underground. By this time Noreen and I had drunk coffee (some of which I spilled, scalding my hand — dozy git!), we’d had a wander round the shop and Kew’s all too tiny garden centre, and I had bought two orchids to add to my collection (luckily the shop were happy to keep them aside for me until we left).

Cactus Flower

Although we go to Kew at least once a year, I’ve still never managed to see more than about 40% of the 300 odd acres. And Katy hasn’t been there for half a lifetime! So we decided we’d take the motorised tour train round the gardens, to get a flavour of everything. It wasn’t very warm and was trying to drizzle; I was glad I’d worn jeans rather than shorts and had a waterproof. Sadly the tour guide/train driver was dreadful and seemed to be telling us everything except what we wanted to know — but then it’s probably designed to appeal most to Americans and Japanese (of whom there were plenty).

We managed 80% of the tour before jumping off and heading for (more) coffee and early lunch. Still, having now done the tour I now know that the parts of Kew I have seen are the parts which really do most interest me, with a couple of exceptions.

Kew Palace Panorama

After lunch, and allowing the kids to run around for a bit, we wandered off to see Kew Palace — yes, a small Royal Palace built late 17th century in the Dutch style and one of the last refuges of the madness of George III. It isn’t large, but is well done and is quite interesting, especially as in restoring it they have left some of the walls of the upper floors in pieces to show how they were constructed. The formal gardens behind the palace are also rather lovely, although the Laburnum walk was clearly well past it’s best. After this I had a little rest on a park bench (so decadent!) while the others availed themselves of a guided tour of the palace kitchens.

By this time it was nigh on 2pm and we were still cold; well the weather was unseasonably grey and breezy. So it was off in search of more coffee and share out some cake, with more time for the kids to run riot!

We then wandered off in search is the Princess of Wales Conservatory and the Palm House. There at least we would get warm! But by this time the sun was out and it turned into a rather nice afternoon.

I always like the PoW Conservatory. Like the rest of Kew there is always something to look at, whether it is flowering cacti, orchids, bougainvillea, water lilies … and there are Amazonian fish in the pond including, this time, a huge puffer fish and an enormous Plecostomus catfish.

Water Lily House

Another short rest to allow the children to let off more steam — where do they get the energy?! — and off for a quick tour of the water lily house (instant sauna!), which is always gorgeous at this time of year, and the Palm House with more aquatics in the basement as well as bananas, neem, ylang-ylang and ginger plants.

Nymphaea Cultivar

By this time we adults were on our knees, and in fact the kids were beginning to tire too. So just after 4.30 we packed up our kit and decided to go our separate ways home (having collected my orchids). We didn’t get to the roses, the Temperate House, the Japanese Garden or the Treetop Walk, all of which remain on the list for anther day. Nevertheless it was a grand day out; we got cold; we got hot; we saw lovely things, we drank coffee, we bought ourselves treats and we consumed a month’s worth of sugar. And there are still things to go back for. What more could one want?

You can find Katy’s account on her weblog.
And lots more of my photos of Kew (not just yesterday’s) on my Flickr.