Further material on arseholes online

Madeleine Bunting has been a friend of mine, if not a particularly close one, for about ten years now, ever since we were rival religious affairs correspondents. I don’t always like what she writes or agree with it. But she’s a decent person, she’s very smart and hard working, and she tries to get her stories right. These are all quite rare qualities in a journalist. Talk to her and you learn stuff.

So the shitstorm of derision and abuse which has greeted her attempts to write about the Enlightenment on the Guardian’s comment site has been really unpleasant to watch. I know she hated it too. What is particularly nasty is the way that she is referred to as “Maddy” by some of her attackers. Every time I see the word, I flinch. “But this is my friend,” I think, with a sense of shock and wrongness that must be more familiar to the victims of journalism than its practitioners.

What has she done to provoke such nastiness, except to suggest that, just possibly, we aren’t as smart as we think we are?

I must get the arseholes essay finished and popped into the paper.

Posted in Net stories | 9 Comments

Someone else hates me

From feedback for an old Wormseye column:

I read with interest your article in the Guardian entitled “A worm’s eye view”, for it never ceases to amaze me how journalists often miss the whole picture, when the hyperbole of sanctimonious drivel appends the page or violates the pixels of my computer screen.

I feel like a moustachio-ed Sicilian villain: “I violate your pixels!” “I Append your page!” Curiously enough, the same article pissed off David Aaronovitch.

Posted in Journalism | 2 Comments

Dear nerdworld

Is there any way to convert a sizable MySQL database containing this blog to sqlite? Here are some of the ways that don’t work:

  1. Using the mt-db-convert.cgi script: this ought to work, but is killed by the reaper at Pair. After exchanging around ten emails with the genuinely helpful and friendly support there, and then spending half an hour on the phone to Pittsburgh, we established that even when the scipt runs to a conclusion, it crashes with incomprehensible error messages.
  2. Using MySQLdump to get a listing of the database and then reading that into the SQLite database browser, which is supposed to understand this things. It claims there is “an error at line 2013051320”. There is, of course, no such line.
  3. Using the SQL-Fairy set of Perl modules. They come highly recommended, take no more than half a day to install on a fast machine. Feed them a 6MB SQL file and they die at line 18, the first one that starts “CREATE TABLE“, protesting that it does not start with “create”.
  4. I have not yet tried finding the authors of all or any of these programs; cutting their throats over my keyboard and then typing fast while my fingers splash in hot blood, but as soon as I get the chance, I will. I’m pretty certain that no lesser sacrifice will work.

In the meantime, if you find your comment won’t post, I apologise. I have done my best.

Posted in nördig | 1 Comment

The sight of creationist arses

I had not realised the aggression of modern creationists. They are all over Nature’s newsblog report on Tiktaalik. One of them drew a really awe-inspiring smackdown from Henry Gee. This gained its effectiveness becasue it was theological — a rebuke from someone who can actually read the bible in the original. There is a sense in which American protestantism has grown much more blindly authoritarian since the nineteenth century, when educated people could actually read Greek, Latin and Hebrew. But of course this isn’t really an argument about facts. It consists almost entirely of young men coming in and showing their arses to the enemy. I don’t know what can cure this, so long as they stay at a safe distance.

Posted in Science without worms | 9 Comments

They may pray but they don’t mean it.

There have been two reactions to the most recent large study of intercessory prayer. Both have missed the point. Atheists have pointed to the fact that it shows no benefits at all for the recipients; believers have said that this won’t stop them praying; that they know of plenty of cases where prayers have been followed by an improvement in the patient’s condition, ergo prayer works.

None of this tells us anything we didn’t know before about the way the world works (and prayer doesn’t). But there is one real new fact that the study reveals which seems to have escaped attention; and this is that Americans, by and large, don’t really believe in God. To understand why, you have to look at the oddest feature of the whole thing, which is that being prayed for, and knowing that you were being prayed for, actually increased the risk of complications among patients recovering from heart surgery.

This was explained by one of the authors of the study as a consequence of anxiety – that, when people heard they were being prayed for, they naturally assumed that things were terrible, which made them more anxious, and, in some, brought on a heart attack. But why is this the natural assumption? If prayer worked as a placebo, you would expect things to get better.

There is a story which I heard1 from the late Pat Wall, a pain researcher, which casts light on this. In the late Fifties, when human experimentation was easier, there were a couple of experiments carried out, at Harvard and the University of Pennsylvania, to test the efficiency of a treatment then popular for angina.

Angina is a painful, sometimes deadly condition caused by an insufficient blood flow to the muscles of the heart, so in the Fifties it was quite common to close the nearby mammary arteries in the belief that the blood thus diverted would make new channels though the heart muscle. Of course, this didn’t happen, but many patients were helped by the operation anyway.

So two experiments were carried out, in which patients all had their chests cut open and the mammary arteries exposed, but only one group had anything done to these exposed arteries. The result was completely baffling. "The majority of both groups of patients showed great improvement in their amount of reported pain, in their walking distance, in their consumption of vasodilating drugs, and some in the shape of their electrocardiogram." The improvement was maintained for six months.

This was told by Dr Wall as a story about the power of the placebo effect. In fact, as we know now, both treatments were useless. Yet both produced measurable, lasting physical improvements in the patients, because they believed in them. When they were told that they were getting an operation which would improve their heart function, they expected medical science to deliver, and it did. No one had to have faith in medicine. They just believed.

The contrast with the prayer study could not be greater. The knowledge that patients were being prayed for worked on them as a nocebo – the malign opposite of a placebo – and in this revealed more clearly than any other experiment could the fact that Americans, even devout Americans, don’t really expect prayer to change the world, and certainly don’t expect it to substitute for medicine. It may be that only two or three or per cent of Americans call themselves atheists but it looks as if the vast majority of them effectively are.

I suppose the really interesting experiment now would be to try offering post-operative patients "healing crystals" and seeing what difference the knowledge of those things made to the outcome. I doubt it would even have a nocebo effect. I suspect that everyone knows these things are just harmless fun. But I also doubt the Templeton people would fund it, as they did the heart study.

1 1993 Experimental and theoretical studies of consciousness. Wiley, Chichester (Ciba Foundation Symposium 174) p187-216

Posted in Science without worms | 3 Comments

A demolition man

I don’t often blog about stuff from American politics, but this speech by Al Franken should be in textbooks of rhetoric. Sorry, I mean it should be on all flash-enabled training solution-facing resources for effective interpersonal communications.

Posted in War | 1 Comment

… and one of the stupidsia

Apparently the reason for the intermittent errors that people have been getting on this blog is that Pair doesn’t like mySQL as a backend for MT blogs. Pair support suggests using sqlite instead, a database so fast and simple it is impossible for humans to use. MT support — who really aren’t much use — suggest exporting all the entries from one database and then reimporting them to a new installation. But that does nothing to transfer the templates, settings, plugins, and everything, in fact, that is not the plain text. There is a script that is supposed to work this magic, but it doesn’t. The author clearly knows what he is doing but I have a hard time understanding him for reasons which may be clearer if you follow the link. So, unless anyone out there knows better, we’re stuck with intermittent database errors. Don’t all comment at once.

Posted in nördig | 1 Comment

A tale of the intelligentsia

via Languagehat, a glorious story: Mikhail Bakhtin, a Russian author, spent the two worst years of the Terror, 1938-40, when Akhmatova was queing outside the prisons in Leningrad, working on a study of the German novel. It was accepted for publication, and then, in the war, the publishing house was bombed. Bad news, in a time of paper shortage — a paper shortage so acute that there was not even any to make cigarettes with, so by the time the war ended, he had torn up almost all of his manuscript, starting from the end, to roll cigarettes with the ruins.

Posted in Literature | Comments Off on A tale of the intelligentsia

John McGahern

If you have not already seen it, John Naughton has a very interesting account of McGahern’s funeral on his blog. I happened to be reading his Memoirs last week, and so learned of his mother’s death the day before I learned of his own. Here is one paragraph to demonstrate what we have lost; he was about eight when his mother died, and he went from his aunt Maggie’s to visit the grave:

I slept in the spare bed in Pat’s room and woke to the shunting of the morning trains. The early part of the day I spent happily with Maggie. Then I cycled out alone to the grave. All that came to me as I stood at the grave was the dull light from the fresh clay. When I put my fingers down into the clay, as if into water, and brought them to my mouth, all they tasted of was clay. I then knelt and willed myself to pray in the empty church.

“All that came to me as I stood by the grave was the dull light from the fresh clay”. Could any sentence be better?

Posted in Literature | Comments Off on John McGahern

Canon printers do duplex

To round off a week of minor disasters, my ancient HP deskjet broke on Sunday morning. The print head jammed, and when I reached around to see if anything was blocking it, a long strip of plastic came away in my hand. It seems to have been the belt that was pulling the print head along. I resolved some years ago not to buy another HP printer, since it is so hard to avoid paying their prices for ink. Besides, their printers seem to get more and more plasticky. Despite this, I did look at a replacement HP machine, since I have half a dozen cartridges spare for this one — but of course they have changed the cartridge design again; since my existing cartridges are no use, they have lost a customer for good.

But the old machine did have one feature I use all the time — it prints on both sides of the paper, without intervention. It looked as if this would be impossible to replace: try searching on duplex printer, and see where that gets you. After about an hour on the web, I suddenly realised that I had spent an hour looking at web sites about printers. This is a part of my life I will never get back. I drove into Cambridge, where there is a sleazy strip to the North East of town which pretends to be an American mall, but cramped and without any shops that might be fun to enter or cheap. Instead, there is a PC World.

I had forgotten the Dixon’s customer experience — partially shaved assistants bulging out of the lower half of their uniform shirts, who can only with difficulty and encouragement read the information printed on a box and certainly don’t have anything to add to it. After ten minutes, I left, and went to Staples which is a quiet and unglamorous barn, where office toys are piled high and sold cheap.1 They had a little Canon printer which said in tiny print that it did duplex. The assistant here didn’t know anything about it, but at least he knew didn’t know, and that this mattered to me. So I bought it, and despite the worst manual I have ever found on a printer got it installed in an hour. It does print duplex, and reasonably fast. It appears that all Canon photo printers do this. Why do they not make more of this useful skill in their advertising? In the meantime, I am wondering whether to change the printer for something faster and more glamorous from the same company. The argument against is clear: it will only cause me to waste time printing photographs rather than words. But then again, I like printing photographs.

And now I have had a tiny revenge on the universe for making me think about printers.

1 that’s to say about 20% more than online, even with postage costs.

Posted in nördig | 1 Comment