And a One, and a Two, and a Trivium, and a Quadrivium…

As I am wont to do, I assigned my students an essay. As I am also wont to do, I wrote the essay myself. 

The essay topic was free choice within parameters. This was for my College Readiness class: a tangled web, that one is, since it is, first of all, not much about readying the students for college; more about readying them for the college application process, primarily the ACT – which just happens to be the standardized test used to determine the school’s success rate and overall quality rating. Which is, understandably, more important to the school than it is to the students. Also, the class has two sections, and three teachers; so I have one group only on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and the other group Thursdays and Fridays; they also have math two days a week, and “college and career counseling” on the fifth day, with the school counselor. In addition, the class is required, but it doesn’t fit into the usual categories, so the students get elective credit: making it a required elective, an amusing little oxymoron. Also, it is not required for everyone, because in theory all Juniors have to take the class – but if there happens to be a conflict with a “more important” class, such as math or science, then the student is excused from College Readiness: but if the class is a mere elective, such as life drawing, which happened to be scheduled for the same period as College Readiness this year, then the students who want to take the art class are instead forced into College Readiness.

But all that is beside the point. (Actually, it’s not, which is why I said all of it. But hold on.) The point is, I assigned my class an essay, and then gave them free choice in the topic of the essay. I love doing that, because they SUCK at picking topics. Completely terrible at it. There are some with interests of their own, and enough capacity for words to have something to say about their interests; they have a very easy time of choosing a subject and then writing about it, and good for them. But for the most part? Yikes. Free choice is the worst kind of essay.

YARN | don't make me choose, | Twilight: New Moon (2009) | Video gifs by  quotes | 2605222e | 紗

So to help them out a little, I gave them a resource. My part of the CR course has two elements: first, yes, I do try to prepare them for the ACT, and the SAT if they want to take that one; college application tests are valuable and difficult, even though we make far too much of their ability to predict success, which is limited at best. But in my part of the class, we do practice the test, work on process of elimination and strategies for finding information in a reading passage, and so on. The second element is application essays: if they are planning on going to college, then next year, when they are Seniors, they will need to write an application essay; so we work on that now, in Junior year, in this class. I use the Common App, a website that creates a single set of application materials which the students can use to apply to any number of colleges around the world; it’s a useful efficiency, and also a good generic application format, for practice. For those who aren’t going to college or who aren’t sure, I see these essays as simply good writing practice: also, I want them to get better at speaking well of themselves, and advocating for themselves, which are both useful skills in all walks of life, and both things most teenagers suck at, because they think talking about themselves is cringey, and bragging about themselves is appallingly arrogant. So we practice essays.

For the first three, I insist they choose a topic from the Common App, which has seven generic topics – things like “What is a problem you overcame and how did you learn from it?” “What is a part of your background or identity that isn’t on your application, but which you think we should know?” – but then for this last one, I show them the University of Chicago supplemental questions.

You see, U. Chicago has, for the last several years, offered a specific question as part of their application. The first question they ask is of the usual type: How does the University of Chicago, as you know it now, satisfy your desire for a particular kind of learning, community, and future? Please address with some specificity your own wishes and how they relate to UChicago.

But then for the second essay, they do this:

Each year we email newly admitted and current College students and ask them for essay topics. We receive several hundred responses, many of which are eloquent, intriguing, or downright wacky.

Those essay topics, which can be found here, are everything they say they are. They include topics like this:

What advice would a wisdom tooth have?

–Inspired by Melody Dias, Class of 2025

And

You are on an expedition to found a colony on Mars, when from a nearby crater, a group of Martians suddenly emerges. They seem eager to communicate, but they’re the impatient kind and demand you represent the human race in one song, image, memory, proof, or other idea. What do you share with them to show that humanity is worth their time?

—Inspired by Alexander Hastings, Class of 2023, and Olivia Okun-Dubitsky, Class of 2026

And

UChicago has been affiliated with over 90 Nobel laureates. But, why should economics, physics, and peace get all the glory? You are tasked with creating a new category for the Nobel Prize. Explain what it would be, why you chose your specific category, and the criteria necessary to achieve this accomplishment.

—Inspired by Isabel Alvarez, Class of 2026

And

Genghis Khan with an F1 racecar. George Washington with a SuperSoaker. Emperor Nero with a toaster. Leonardo da Vinci with a Furby. If you could give any historical figure any piece of technology, who and what would it be, and why do you think they’d work so well together?

-Inspired by Braden Hajer, Class of 2025

And so on. 

Last year, my students challenged me to write an essay to this prompt:

Find x.

—Inspired by Benjamin Nuzzo, an admitted student from Eton College, UK

Because they were hoping to force me to talk about math, which I frequently and loudly say I dislike. (I don’t, but the whole school community where I work promotes STEM and talks smack about the arts – why do you think the math and science students get out of College Readiness, but not the art students? – and I want to push back a little bit. Also, I do have some issues with math, but that’s not important right now.) So I wrote about a pirate finding treasure where X marks the spot. 

Checkmate, Math Nerds. 

This year they didn’t want to choose a topic for me: so I chose one for myself. Here it is:

 The seven liberal arts in antiquity consisted of the Quadrivium — astronomy, mathematics, geometry, and music — and the Trivium — rhetoric, grammar, and logic. Describe your own take on the Quadrivium or the Trivium. What do you think is essential for everyone to know?

And here is the essay I wrote about it.

Understanding the Trivium and Quadrivium

Dr. Jeffrey Lehman Explains the “Arts of the Word” and the “Arts of Number”

Written by Finn Cleary

The trivium consists of grammar, logic, and rhetoric, while the quadrivium consists of arithmetic, astronomy, music, and geometry. Together, Dr. Lehman says they lead students to see a “unified idea of reality.”

“The trivium was always pursued first,” Dr. Lehman says. “It’s commonly called the ‘Arts of the Word’ and focuses on different ways you can attend to words. Grammar is used in logic, which is used in rhetoric, for example. All of them move toward a proper presentation of the truth, which speaks to the mind and to the passions.”

Next, students of the liberal arts traditionally move to the quadrivium, or the ‘Arts of Number or Quantity.’

“Humans communicate with each other using words. Humans communicate with the natural order in numbers and in quantities. By discerning those natural relationships, we come to better understand the cosmos. It speaks to us, and we can talk to the greater universe. “

Source

This, by the way, is the image of me teaching that my students took. And altered.

I have often thought that I was born in the wrong century. I would like to exist a hundred years earlier than I do; because my professions and my passions would be, I think, more valuable then; I would still be able to teach, perhaps at a college instead of a high school (but also, I think I would make a decent one-room-schoolhouse teacher) and my writing would be more marketable, and would perhaps furnish me a non-teaching career, which would be lovely. 

But there is an attraction with going back even further in time: perhaps to a time when universities taught the quadrivium and the trivium, the two sections of what are bafflingly called the liberal arts, even though they were at the time pretty much all sciences. I appreciate that there is a professor at a small liberal arts college in southern Michigan who teaches about the quadrivium and the trivium, which I quoted above, but I’m not sure I agree with his explanation of them and how they work and why they are important. 

Math is how we interact with the natural order? Is it really? I guess we quantify and measure and compare natural things, all of which are math-adjacent if not actually math; but is that all we do? What about living in the natural order in the natural world, of which we are a part? But okay, we’re not talking about life, we’re talking about academia and education. Still: what about art inspired by the natural world; is that not how humans communicate with the world around us? It seems to me like it is. Of course, the classic quadrivium did include music, which I appreciate; but I’m leery of music being the one art when someone starts speaking about mathematics (and when two of the other subjects are math, and the last of the four is a math-heavy science), because there is a strong correlation between music and math. I don’t think that’s all of music, by any means; but I suspect that studying the quadrivium in a program that thinks math is the key to the universe would not teach me so much about improvisational jazz.

(Somewhere right now there’s a math/music geek just revving up a lecture on how there is many maths in jazz. The silences and the spaces between the notes on the scale, the rhythms and repetitions and so on. I get it, sir. Keep your beret on.)

I also take some issue with the trivium, as Dr. Lehman describes it and as ancient universities taught it: grammar to logic to rhetoric as the “arts of the word” is a good way to study language, I agree. But the idea that you could even consider the arts of the word and not talk about poetry? About the great works of literature, past and present and future? That doesn’t even make any sense to me. And “logic” as part of the art of language is a little too close to the math of language, as well: logic is important, both to life and to the proper use of language; but it’s also just about the only place where language can be turned into formulae and equations and functions. 

The other place is grammar. Or word problems, but I think we can all agree that those are abominations.

Doug Maclean Mac GIF - Doug Maclean Mac Kyper GIFs

However: I do think the study of language as a foundation for further learning makes perfect sense. I don’t know that I would split it out in that manner, though. I don’t know that studying grammar would be as effective now as it was in the long-ago past; partly because people are far more grammar-savvy now (assuming that they actually read) when they get to university than they would have been in the illiterate ages where nobody had access to books or very much printed media at all; and partly because I don’t think that studying grammar really helps appreciate and understand language all that much. It helps you to understand grammar. And that enables you to write correctly, but writing correctly does not mean writing well, and I think writing well is far more important. 

So I have some suggestions for an update of the trivium and quadrivium. 

If we consider the trivium to be the stage when we learn how to understand things, instruction in the processes rather than the actual content, I consider that both a reasonable lens to look at the curriculum through, and also a reflection of how we do most school: elementary and middle school are largely about learning how to learn, learning the basic processes and systems of thought, including learning how to read and write, learning how to do math, learning how to think scientifically. Basically for the first seven or eight years of school, we are learning how to think. Then high school, and even more so college, is where we learn things to think about: this is where the serious content appears, and gives us something to understand, which then allows us to build what should be the final goal of all education: our own understanding of the world and our place in it. Every individual should find and create that understanding for themselves, and since that understanding shapes all of one’s life afterwards, it seems like the right goal to see as the pinnacle of education: as the final project before graduation.

So the trivium in university should be the fundamental ways that we think: Language. Mathematics. Art. (“What?!” I hear you cry. “You’re including math?!?!” Sure, I don’t like it, but I respect what it is and what it can do for people.) I think there is room in these to allow for some individual course selection, meaning that the “art” umbrella can comprise visual arts, music, dance, and even poetry, though that might focus too much attention on language when combined with the other strand of study. Definitely we need to learn more about language and how language works and how to manipulate it: too many people focus on too few aspects of language, and that leaves most of us open to manipulation in various ways, and whenever we are manipulated, we don’t learn something we should learn – and that makes it easier to manipulate us next time, and the next thing you know, Donald Trump is president. The same is true for mathematics, and I’d like the university trivium study of mathematics to be more in applied mathematics: probability, statistics, and probably economics, though I’m certainly open to a stronger statement from a more mathy perspective on the specifics there. The language study in the trivium should include some study of grammar in the sense of learning how language is constructed and how we construct meaning with it; I tend to think of that as rhetoric. It should also, without a doubt, include the learning of a foreign language, and I’d like to see that be a different language than the one people “learned” in high school, and I’d like to see the study of that language include study abroad. 

But I’m getting a bit far afield here. The point is that the trivium should be about the ways that we can interact with the world, the ways we can construct thought, the ways we can create meaning: it’s the modes of thought that we can control, that we can manipulate. It’s how we think and how we learn, not necessarily the content, yet.

That’s where the quadrivium comes in. That’s when we learn the material that we are now ready to understand better, to chew and digest, to manipulate and shape, to make something out of. The raw material for building, after the trivium shows us how to build. Where the trivium focused inward, on the ways we think and the ways we communicate – communication with others would be outward, of course, but we also communicate with ourselves, through language and math and art, all three – the quadrivium should focus outward. It should show us about the world we live in, and the people we live with, and how we all, world and people, fit into the larger universe. My first quadrivium subject, then, would be history, as that would give us some understanding of who we are as a people, as a human race. (I would also start with that because I think of “liberal arts” as being the humanities, so science can wait its turn.) I think we need to learn history, but I think we struggle with it in school because we don’t follow the thought process of the trivium and quadrivium, first learn how to learn and then learn things worth learning; learning history when one is still mastering how to read is too difficult, because there is so very much information to take in. Learning the impact of history without having a grasp on the mathematical concepts of probability and statistics means we miss the scale, we fail to understand the interactions between events. Recognizing here how important it is to understand causation, I suppose I should include some focus on logic in the trivium: though I think that would happen best as an interaction between language and mathematics; I also think art wouldn’t be lessened by some connection to logic.

So history (And again, opportunity for individual courses here such as sociology or anthropology, along with the study of civilizations and recorded events), and then, I suppose, it’s time for science. Just like with history, I think we need an understanding of both language and applied mathematics before we can really appreciate science: my science study in high school was just a set of difficult courses to master, where my science study in college was eye-opening. Not that my science teachers in high school were sub-par compared to my college teachers; quite the opposite, in fact. But I wasn’t ready for science, I didn’t understand the full implications of chemistry and physics and biology. I think that’s the best argument for college and university education coming at the end of thirteen years of compulsory education: we’re not ready to really learn until we reach college age and college-level mastery of the fundamentals. (I do also think there’s a great argument for having a break in schooling somewhere between 6th grade and 9th grade, but that’s a whole other topic.)

The quadrivium should include a study of biology and ecology. We need to understand where we fit in with the rest of life on this planet and in this universe, if for no other reason than just so we don’t kill it all. Almost all of the problems we face in our future are related to biology and ecology, so if there is material in our world of knowledge which we need to be chewing and digesting once we learn how to chew and digest, it’s biology and ecology. I also think we should study astronomy: because just as humanity is one race of beings in an almost infinitely complex web of life, so the Earth is one tiny planet orbiting one tiny star – but also intricately connected to the rest of the universe, affecting and affected by it all. And if we do ever manage to solve the problems we face as a race (And I should also point out that the problems which are not covered by biology and ecology will be covered by history: though not solved by it), then astronomy will show us where we need to look in the future, to find our next set of challenges to face and adapt to: the stars.

Best Stars GIFs | Gfycat

So that’s three of the four (and please note, two sciences, one a lab and one a theoretical science; I’m a little disappointed in myself that my education plan is so similar to high school curriculum; but also, I think that shows the curriculum we have now is not bad) – and that’s where I got stuck. I think there is probably value in studying the world of computers and the internet, but I’m not convinced that’s a good subject for university study. I don’t know that a whole lot of overarching theoretical work has been done, that a body of knowledge about the internet and computers has been created; that is, several different bodies of knowledge have been created – and then made obsolete. Are there theories and concepts that can teach students about both the personal computer revolution and Tik-Tok? I don’t know. If there are, if there is a reasonable course of study that would be general enough to include most of the important themes, but also specific enough to be useful, then computer science would be a good choice for the fourth part of the quadrivium. Certainly the digital age is well begun, and understanding and navigating it will be critical. 

If that’s not a reasonable course – or, if like many other things in life, the study of related subjects makes us sufficiently well-prepared to deal with the computer world (which is the same reason we don’t really need to study how to do our taxes in high school, and all those smarmy memes about the Pythagorean theorem can shut it), and personal experience fills in the gaps – then the fourth subject had me stymied for a bit. I think philosophy would be useful: but I don’t know that it needs to be its own study separate from the logic and language of the trivium and the history of the quadrivium. Physics might be a good science to work with, as it enables so many other applied sciences like engineering; but I don’t know that it is applicable enough outside of that, if physics is actually how we solve the problems in our world (And my physicist father is cringing right now, as I write this. Sorry, Dad. I think physics is cool.).

But I did have a thought. As I said, there is a gap in the original trivium of grammar, logic, and rhetoric: the study of actual literature. I do recognize that in the Medieval period, when the trivium and the quadrivium were being codified and then taught, there wasn’t quite the wealth of material that we have today; there was Chaucer, and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and a whole ton of stuff about Christianity – and I guess a couple of Greek plays – but it was more limited. Still: I don’t think you can say you understand language unless you understand the art of the language. The same goes for music and visual arts and all of it; you have to know the history of it, have to study the past masters, to know what is possible and how to build for the future. 

So it seems like a good idea for the fourth quadrivium subject would be the history of the subjects in the trivium. Literature, as the history of language that has already been created; the history of mathematics, both the people who built it and how it got built; and the history of art and music and whatever other elements were included in the trivium – and more, if possible, because I don’t really think you can learn too much art. All of that seems to me like good material to chew and digest, and then use to make something new. 

And isn’t that what education is all about?

(Also, this is in no way connected to this topic, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the band Trivium every time I wrote it for this, and this is my favorite song of theirs. So enjoy.)

This Morning

This morning I’m thinking, Well! That’s quite a line you’re following, there, Dusty! First you rail against science, and then you complain about the foundation of American exceptionalism, capitalism and the profit motive? Why don’t you go for the trifecta?

This morning, I say to my sardonic self (Who uses sarcasm to conceal the quiver in his lip): all righty then.

Capitalism and the profit motive have helped make this country the absolute powerhouse that it is militarily, culturally, and especially economically. The drive to succeed, to win, to gain the maximum benefit for one’s self from one’s labor, have been a powerful motivator for as long as this country has told us we can pull ourselves up by our bootstraps; though profit and competition haven’t made that particular impossible feat possible, they have allowed us to turn a thousand other impossible things into realities: they helped us get to the moon (because we had to beat the Commies there) and they helped us invent the first atomic bomb (because we had to beat the Nazis) and they helped us lead the way in the information revolution of the 1980’s (because Apple had to beat Microsoft, and Microsoft had to beat Apple). Our continuous growth, our continuous progress, have been driven largely by exactly this: by money, by profit, by competition for limited resources, whether those resources are time or money or fame or love or just food.

I can’t argue with that. I hate competition, hate the very idea of fighting other people in order to gain greater profit; but I can’t deny the results. America is an exceptional place, and our incredible speed forward has been increased again, and again, and again, by this essential underlying system: the one in front, the one on top, gets what he wants, and other people have to make do with what’s left over, with what’s left behind. Our system of government, our great and wonderful freedoms —  and they are great, and they are wonderful — are predicated on that idea, with this addition: anyone, in theory, can be the one on top, the one who gets all the stuff first. In practice it can’t be anyone, and it’s almost  always been the same type of people — mostly white Christian men — but in theory, it could be anyone, and our ability to pretend that that is true, and our desire to push for greater rights for other people mainly because we think those opportunities will reflect some benefit back on us, are what has allowed us as a society to spread those freedoms to more people, in more situations.

Just as long as we can pretend the people gaining the freedoms are like us. When they’re not like us, when they live on the other side of the world and speak a different language and live a different way, well. Then it’s probably all right if they have less freedom. Particularly if we profit thereby, with, say, cheap consumer goods.

Am I being too cynical? Look: the slaves were freed because it served the purpose of the white men who freed them. Woodrow Wilson changed his stance on women’s suffrage from opposition to support because he needed women to continue supporting the American effort in World War I. At least part of Lyndon Johnson’s intention in signing the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was to ensure the Democratic party would not fracture along racial lines — and that all of them would support his bid for election in November. And so on, so on. I do agree with Dr. Martin Luther King that those in power do not give up their power voluntarily, only when there is sufficient pressure on them to do so; I know that some of the progress we have made towards greater freedom has been because of grass roots movements and political and social pressure. The will of the people does sometimes prevail. Maybe even often.

But far more often, money talks, and people bend and crawl. And that’s capitalism.

Technology, meanwhile, has often been touted as a means of making life easier for the common man; but all too often, it has in fact made life harder. We have more technology, and we work longer hours and suffer more stress. We have longer life spans, now, that much is certainly true; but more of our lives is spent in misery, and often in ill health. We’ve gotten more quantity of life, but not more quality. And even more true is this: when progress has been made, it pushes us forward  —  off of another cliff. The Green Revolution of the mid-20th century, led by Norman Borlaug, saved at least a billion people from starving to death in Asia. A magnificent success, and a great leap forward.

How many billions are going to die now because of climate change? How much of that climate change was driven by the increase in human population made possible by the Green Revolution?

I don’t mean to say it was a bad thing. Lives were saved, and I am in favor of humans, and of living humans over dead humans. The same thing is true of our longer life spans: what I said about quantity but not quality is true, but also, the rise of lingering and terrible diseases that afflict us as we age has come at least partly because we are now still alive to age. We die of cancer now because we don’t die of sepsis like we used to. We have Alzheimer’s now because we’re not all dead at 65-70 from heart disease. Do you realize how many of the world’s greatest authors, along with millions of others, literally drank themselves to death before they were 50? Do you realize how much of that is attributable to a lack of understanding of and treatment for alcoholism? How much was, quite simply, due to the inability of medical science to perform a liver transplant? Medical advancements just mean we die in different ways, and after longer lives — and as a person who would like to live a good, long time before he dies, I see that as entirely positive.

But the problem is, the problem with all of this is, that we think of our temporary fixes, our incremental advances  — our progress– as a solution to the problem. But it never is. All we’ve been doing since the Industrial Revolution if not before, is treating the symptoms and not the real underlying problem. We are better at waging war: but we haven’t figured out how to stop fighting. We live longer lives: but not better ones. We make more profits: but we don’t get greater rewards. We live in a magnificent country: but it survives by exploiting and destroying other countries, other people, and it always has.

Progress is not our salvation. Progress is our drug. We’re not making real progress in our real problems — not much, and not quickly, and too often the real progress is swallowed up by backsliding; we have actually gotten more empathetic and more aware, and the backlash from that is the alt-right and Donald Trump. Which is making us less empathetic and less aware, as we draw deeper into our shells to avoid looking at the shit that is piling up outside. And I am entirely guilty of this, don’t think I’m not: I have stopped listening to or reading the news because I feel powerless to do anything about it. I’m not: I have as much power as any person, and more than most because I am a white Christian man, to help make the world a better place, and instead, I’ve done — well, nothing useful. I’ve probably made some progress. But I haven’t solved anything.

 

I don’t think I’ve been clear enough in this blog. I’ve been having trouble lately making my point clear; and this one is a tough one to get across. Let me boil it down and then I will see if I can explain it at greater length in future posts.

What we call progress, in technology, in the growth of our economy, in the expansion of this nation’s military and political power, are rarely if ever actual progress towards a useful goal, a valuable purpose. Almost always the goal is — motion. Like football: you try to get the first down, you try to move the chains. You hunker down and focus on the immediate task, convincing yourself that that one task, that one all-consuming goal, is a good thing. And in the immediate sense, in a single, narrow context, it is good: football players are successful when they get first downs. Soldiers are successful when they carry out assigned missions. Workers are successful when they bring home a paycheck. Scientists are successful when they complete an experiment as it was intended  — say, by injecting human brain DNA into macaques. We see immediate success as progress, especially when it is followed by another success. We’ve taken another step along the path.

But we rarely, if ever, think about where the path is leading. And too often, the successes right now cause even greater problems down the line.

That doesn’t mean we should ignore the problems, nor that we should try not to solve them; winning World War II was the right thing to do, even if it did start the Cold War and the nuclear arms race and so on. Norman Borlaug absolutely should have saved billions from starving, and Alexander Fleming absolutely should have deciphered penicillin, and Dr. King absolutely should have fought for civil rights.

But we need to stop thinking that progress, movement forward, is the answer, is the solution, is the goal. Movement for the sake of movement will not ever get you to where you need to go, to where you should be. Only purposeful, intentional movement can do that. A plan. Understanding.

So maybe, instead of bulling ahead ever farther, ever faster, ever harder, we should– slow down. And think. Even if it means we don’t solve the problems we’re dealing with right now. Maybe it will help us find a real solution, instead of a solution right now that leads to another problem tomorrow.

This Morning

This morning I  am thinking: what the fuck, China?

Scientists added human brain genes to monkeys. Yes, it’s as scary as it sounds.

Okay. Let’s be clear. I am in favor of science. Scientific advancements save lives and improve the quality of our lives. I am also of the opinion that our highest calling as human beings is to create beauty, and to discover truth.

But this? This is not beautiful.

Of the 11 transgenic macaque monkeys they generated, six died. The five survivors went through a series of tests, including MRI brain scans and memory tests. It turned out they didn’t have bigger brains than a control group of macaques, but they did perform better on short-term memory tasks. Their brains also developed over a longer period of time, which is typical of human brains.

I am, of course, generally not in favor of animal experimentation, nor human experimentation —  I say “Of course” not because I presume my audience knows that I am a humanist, a pacifist, a vegetarian and an animal lover, but because I am a thinking, feeling human, and thinking feeling humans should all generally oppose experimentation on sentient creatures. I understand that sometimes animal experimentation is necessary. Medical advancements, for instance: when those experiments move forward, lives are saved and lives are improved, and that is probably worth the cost. It is sometimes impossible to move a project forward without live subjects, and animals are probably better subjects than humans, ethically speaking.

But this is not a medical advancement. This does not help humans live longer, nor better. This was done entirely, completely, because they could.

Although the sample size was very small, the scientists excitedly described the study as “the first attempt to experimentally interrogate the genetic basis of human brain origin using a transgenic monkey model.” In other words, part of the point of the study was to help tackle a question about evolution: How did we humans develop our unique brand of intelligence, which has allowed us to innovate in ways other primates can’t?

They excitedly described the study as the first attempt to do BIG FANCY SCIENCE WORDS. The attempt to answer that question is nonsense: how a macaque is affected by people injecting weird DNA into its genome has nothing whatsoever to do with human evolution, and anyone with a high school education knows it. There’s no possible way to isolate the variables and find specific information. I’m sure this would give hints that could lead to new knowledge — but six dead animals and five fucked-up ones seems a very high price for hints.

And of course, though I do not like slippery slope arguments, there’s no need to speculate about this experiment leading to more like it, coming faster and going farther: that’s already happening.

The Chinese researchers suspect the MCPH1 gene is part of the answer. But they’re not stopping there. One of them, Bing Su, a geneticist at the Kunming Institute of Zoology, told MIT Technology Review that he’s already testing other genes involved in brain evolution:

One that he has his eye on is SRGAP2C, a DNA variant that arose about two million years ago, just when Australopithecus was ceding the African savannah to early humans. That gene has been dubbed the “humanity switch” and the “missing genetic link” for its likely role in the emergence of human intelligence. Su says he’s been adding it to monkeys, but that it’s too soon to say what the results are.

Su has also had his eye on another human gene, FOXP2, which is believed to have graced us with our language abilities. Pondering the possibility of adding that gene to monkeys, Su toldNature in 2016, “I don’t think the monkey will all of a sudden start speaking, but will have some behavioral change.” He would not be breaking any laws.

Ohhh, he would NOT be breaking any laws! Well, shit, I guess that’s fine, then.

The article goes on to make a fairly obscure point, which is that monkeys made to be more like humans will suffer even more in a constricted lab environment; it also points out that “normal” monkeys suffer enough as it is, that macaques have intricate and important social lives that they can’t experience in a lab. This is all true, and makes this experiment unethical — or it would, if there was any ethical argument to be made for this experiment.

Look, I understand that science does not always have clear connections to a practical use. My father, a nuclear physicist, spent his career working on multi-billion dollar projects that had no direct application in the world. But of course practical application was not the point: expanding knowledge leads to better understanding, which leads to both greater expansion of knowledge and, at some point, practical applications, which is where longer and better human lives come in. But we can’t just focus on the eventual positive outcome: we have to consider the cost right now, and the benefit right now, with the potential benefit considered only after that. And the cost of this experiment is much too high, while the benefit from it is — little more than bragging rights. This doesn’t change our understanding of human evolution, it confirms, slightly, something we already thought was true. It can’t confirm it too conclusively, because again, macaques infected with human DNA are not the same thing as  Australopithecines evolving under natural selection. Not even close.

Last two things I want to point out about this: one, Chinese geneticists have already altered human DNA, entirely against any standard of scientific ethics. (They may have arrested the scientist who did it, but really, what does that even mean in China?)

And two, China is not the only nation involved. Of course not.

When it comes to studying monkeys, a researcher gets much more bang for their buck in China, as the Atlantic’s Sarah Zhang reported last year:

A standard monkey in China costs about $1,500, compared to roughly $6,000 in the United States. The daily costs of food and care are an order of magnitude lower as well.

In the past few years, China has seen a miniature explosion of genetic engineering in monkeys. In Kunming, Shanghai, and Guangzhou, scientists have created monkeys engineered to show signs of Parkinson’s, Duchenne muscular dystrophy, autism, and more.

Because of the relative ease of conducting primate research there, some researchers regularly travel from the US to China for scientific work on monkeys. As Zhang pointed out, researchers at Emory University recently collaborated with scientists in China who work on genetically modified monkeys. And Su’s study involved University of North Carolina computer scientist Martin Styner. Styner, who told MIT Tech Review that his participation was minimal, said he considered pulling his name from the study and has come to believe such research is not “a good direction.”

Although the US is not green-lighting studies like Su’s, American universities that collaborate with Chinese scientists on such studies may still be complicit in any ethical harm they cause.

I hope we’re all ready for what comes next.

 

Book Review: The Demon-Haunted World

Image result for the demon-haunted world

The Demon-Haunted World

by Carl Sagan

Published the year he died, Sagan’s The Demon-Haunted World is a haunted book. I haven’t read his other work (Though now I plan to), but this one seems darker than what I had imagined his work would be like. It’s not hopeless or despairing; it’s a serious warning about a serious problem, and what seemed to me like a fairly frustrated attempt to cut through a thick layer of hogwash on a specific issue that obviously bothered Sagan quite a lot: namely the idea of alien abduction.

The general warning about the serious problem is the overall thrust of the book, and it is about the need for a free people to think skeptically. Sagan being who he was, he came at the idea from a scientist’s perspective; he describes at length the need for scientists to be skeptical, to be willing to question anything, most particularly their own most cherished beliefs. He gives example after example of scientists describing the need to build beautiful, elegant theories that explain great answers to great questions – and then tear them down completely when those theories are contradicted by the evidence. He talks about the shift from Newton to Einstein to quantum mechanics, and he talks about how astrophysicist Fred Hoyle was able to contribute as much to the field of astronomy when he was wrong as he was when he was right (and in both cases his contributions were prodigious, Sagan says).

Because Sagan is not only talking about science, and because he practiced what he preached, he makes a concerted effort in this book to talk about the flawed nature of scientists, the scientists who did more harm than good, the ones who told themselves they could ignore the ethical responsibility of considering the potential uses of their discoveries – a deception, Sagan argues, as he states unequivocally that the extraordinary power of modern scientific discoveries and the technology that comes from them imposes a greater responsibility than ever before for scientists to act as ethically as possible in considering what potential harm could be done by their work, and taking action to minimize that harm. He talks about the various ways that science can be manipulated and used to do harm; though he is also clear that none of that harm tells us that science is itself harmful or bad or should be feared or avoided. Knowledge is power, and power can be used to do – well, anything; but ignoring the power doesn’t protect us from it, it simply makes it easier for someone else to use it harmfully.

What else is Sagan talking about other than science itself, than the beauty and power of the scientific mindset, of skeptical thinking and a reliance on repeatable experiment and observable data? He’s talking about everything, really. There isn’t an aspect of life or modern society where a skeptical mindset would be inappropriate. The book covers a lot of aspects of society and culture; the exploration of the alien abduction myth, rather than simply being a screed against a continuing falsehood that Sagan, as an astrophysicist, took personally; he goes back through history and connects the alien abduction myth to past myths, of fairy abductions, of divine intervention in the lives of mortals. In addition to showing how a skeptical mindset quickly takes the alien abduction story apart, he also shows how it could be used to remove a dozen other pernicious ideas in our culture, including racism, sexism, and nationalism.

It’s beautifully done. This is a lovely book, fascinating in its ideas and easily digestible in the presentation of them. And as I said, it isn’t hopeless: Sagan also makes sure to express to the reader his unquenchable curiosity and his enormous capacity for wonder, which he also says must be fostered and encouraged along with the skeptical mindset; because when our cherished ideas are disproven by the evidence, when the flaws in our reasoning are found by our own penetrating, skeptical questions, it is our sense of wonder and our need to feel awe that makes us look again for a new answer to replace the one we just discarded. Wonder makes us get up and try again, after we knock ourselves down; and the combination of those two qualities is what gives this book its hope.

The thing that makes it scary is that Sagan wrote it twenty years ago. And on the first page – the first damn page – he said this:

Science is more than a body of knowledge; it is a way of thinking. I have a foreboding of an America in children’s or grandchildren’s time – when the United States is a service and information economy; when nearly all the key manufacturing industries have slipped away to other countries; when awesome technological powers are in the hands of a very few, and no one representing the public interest can even grasp the issues; when the people have lost the ability to set their own agendas or knowledgeably question those in authority; when, clutching our crystals and nervously consulting our horoscopes, our critical faculties in decline, unable to distinguish between what feels good and what’s true, we slide, almost without noticing, back into superstition and darkness.

[…]

The candle flame gutters. Its little pool of light trembles. Darkness gathers. The demons begin to stir.

Yeah. This book scared me, all right. I hope it also inspired me. I do intend to use one entire chapter/essay in my classes this coming school year, to try to make that candle burn a little brighter, if I can; and I would like to recommend that everyone read this book when you get the chance, because after Sagan finishes talking about alien abduction, he talks about democracy, and the need for scientific skeptical thinking and also scientific wonder and awe, to save our democracy, to save our country. And I for one think he was right.