Carnival of the Elitist Bastards XI
Welcome to the eleventh edition of the Carnival of the Elitist Bastards. CEB is a monthly blog carnival that celebrates the intelligent and the exceptional, and decries willful ignorance and uniformity. Some may call us elitist bastards, but we prefer the term “awesome.” I thought the submissions this time fell into three general categories: politics/policy issues, science and other fact-related pursuits, and everyday life stuff. Let’s dig in:
Elitist law, politics, and policy
Stephanie Zvan at Almost Diamonds explains the Employee Free Choice Act. Not content to listen to generalizations from the Wall Street Journal and others reporting on the proposed legislation, she read it herself in order to break down what it really says and does.
Mike at The Big Stick discusses why a revolving door for teachers isn’t so bad. He argues that alternative certification procedures would allow more qualified and excited individuals to become teachers, and that’s better than the status quo for students even if these new teachers leave after a few years for other jobs.
Cujo359 at Slobber and Spittle writes about what history can teach us, specifically regarding the Obama administration’s public statements compared to the outcomes of Obama’s policies as president. King John didn’t write the Magna Carta on a whim alone one day; the British aristocracy held him accountable and pushed for the type of government they wanted.
Just the elitist facts, ma’am
John Pieret at Thoughts in a Haystack deconstructs statements from the Discovery Institute’s Michael Egnor, who argued that intelligent design ought to be taught as science since most Americans are creationists. John points out that this reveals not only that the real agenda behind ID is creationism, but also that ID proponents seem to think science is merely a popularity contest.
Dana Hunter at En Tequila Es Verdad recommends two books by Richard Dawkins on understanding evolution. The Blind Watchmaker and Climbing Mount Improbable deal with the somewhat non-intuitive idea that complex beings could have “randomly” evolved. Understanding what the word “random” really means is one of the most interesting parts.
Blake Stacey at Science after Sunclipse mourns the death of the Boston Globe’s Health/Science section. They’re going to push a few science-related articles into the business and lifestyle sections if they fit, both space-wise and content-wise it seems.
Two people sent in links about Jon Stewart’s takedown of financial reporter Jim Cramer on The Daily Show. After a week-long feud between the two (Stewart mocked CNBC in a brief segment and Cramer took it upon himself to defend his show “Mad Money” and the station as a whole), Cramer came to Stewart for an interview. It’s pretty painful. Dana Hunter walks you through the gory details. Cujo359 turns it into a case study about how being ignorant of the facts and encouraging ignorance in others spells disaster for anyone, whether you’re a TV personality or not.
Living the elitist life
George at Decrepit Old Fool suggests that we do one impossible thing every year — not literally impossible, but seemingly impossible, something we can’t do yet and maybe never imagined we’d try. He’s learning to ride a unicycle. What will you do?
Blake Stacey also alerts us of the coining of the word TeXgefühl. If you’ve ever written in the typesetting system LaTeX or its variants, you’ll appreciate the notion that it takes a particular instinctive sense to get it right. My TeXgefühl has been gathering a bit of dust lately, but I think the existence of a word is motivating me to get it back in gear.
Here at It’s the Thought that Counts, I wrote about the Spread the Word to End the Word campaign (against the word “retarded”) and why it’s misguided. Respect for others is important, but I think we shouldn’t confuse respect with blind political correctness.
That wraps up CEB XI. Thanks for stopping by! It’s been an honor and a pleasure to host. See you next month!
Elitist bastards, assemble!
Don’t forget, the Carnival of the Elitist Bastards XI will be here this weekend, and by here I mean here at this blog. If you have a submission for the carnival, send it to me by midnight tonight (whenever your midnight is, I’ll be flexible), at z [at] thoughtcounts [dot] net. If you’ve already sent your entry to the usual carnival Gmail account, that’s okay, I’ll get them that way too.
Don’t be bashful about submitting your work, even if you’ve never been in CEB before. For elitist bastards, we’re surprisingly inclusive and welcoming….
More on words
As it happens, I’ve been rereading Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes, and I thought this paragraph was worth quoting after yesterday’s post. If you don’t know the story, it’s about a mentally retarded man who receives experimental brain surgery to drastically increase his IQ.
Am I a genius? I don’t think so. Not yet anyway. As Burt would put it, mocking the euphemisms of educational jargon, I’m exceptional—a democratic term used to avoid the damning labels of gifted and deprived (which used to mean bright and retarded) and as soon as exceptional begins to mean anything to anyone they’ll change it. The idea seems to be: use an expression only as long as it doesn’t mean anything to anybody. Exceptional refers to both ends of the spectrum, so all my life I’ve been exceptional.
(Emphasis is original.) That was written in 1966.
Am I a jerk?
I’m perplexed by the recent campaign against the “r-word” (retard, retarded, etc.). In the interest of not being a total jerk I’m going to include their promotional banner here, but then I’m going to do a bit of the critical thinking thing and ask whether their campaign actually makes sense. To cut to the chase: I agree with the conclusion, but not the means of getting there. Hopefully that doesn’t make me a bad person.
I want to make it clear that I don’t think calling anyone names is acceptable. I would never say, “You’re such a retard” to a person, or even say “He’s such a retard” behind someone’s back, whether or not that person was actually mentally retarded. I admit that I have occasionally used the adjective “retarded” to refer to plans or situations that I think result from people not understanding what’s going on or not being able to think through the complexities of an issue. When the campaign refers to “everyday” use of the word, I assume they mean this latter case. I do think I should stop doing it, but not for the reason the campaign suggests. (I’ll get to my reason later.)
The first thing I think the Spread the Word campaign is forgetting is that no matter what word is used to describe people with severe and broad learning disabilities, that word is going to be used as an insult that means someone is stupid. “Mental retardation” was at one point the kinder, euphemistic term replacing previous terms like “idiot,” “imbecile,” and “moron.” Seriously, those were the scientific terms for different ranges of IQ scores. This commenter on a disability advocacy blog pointed out that “special needs” is already resulting in the playground insult, “You’re special.” You can’t stop this phenomenon by eliminating one word at a time.
People described as “mentally retarded” are described that way because they learn slower and comprehend less than other people. Guess what? That means they are less intelligent. That doesn’t mean they’re not good people or that they’re not a valued part of society. It also doesn’t mean that they’re not skilled at anything. But you can’t say that random things count as intelligence (like “bodily-kinesthetic intelligence” and “naturalist intelligence”) and then declare everybody to be equally intelligent.
The thing is, using the “r-word” for the most part evokes qualities that are actually related to the term “mental retardation.” Because of this, I don’t think of it as such a grave insult the way that the Spread the Word campaign is characterizing it. The “r-word” isn’t being used as a synonym for “bad” or “uncool” just arbitrarily, to be mean. It’s not like seeing a boy try out for the school musical and saying, “That’s so gay!” It’s more like seeing two men kissing and saying that. Like… yeah. It sort of is.
The problem is — and this is the problem I recognize — it isn’t really. It’s actually more like poking your slightly pudgy stomach while you look in the mirror and saying, “I’m obese.” Or, in a more real-life example, leaving that difficult exam and exclaiming, “I was raped!” Using the word “retarded” to describe someone who merely disagrees with your understanding or to describe a situation which was simply sub-optimally planned trivializes the reality of mental retardation. It’s a complicated condition, a real challenge for people who have it. It’s disrespectful to those people to describe your everyday inconveniences using this serious medical term. Imagine if your friend dropped something accidentally and you said, “Jeez, it’s like you have cerebral palsy or something.” Or if he stumbled over his words while thinking of what to say next, and you said, “What is it, do you have Parkinson’s?” People do commonly exaggerate in everyday speech (It’s like a million degrees outside today! or, It took a thousand years to download that song!) but I can certainly see the argument that exaggeration downplays the significance of these serious conditions.
The Spread the Word campaign is based around the idea that the “r-word” insults people by implying that they are less capable, while in reality they have so many abilities. (Just look at the Special Olympics!) But the fact is that mentally retarded people are less capable in this specific set of situations involving comprehension and learning. That’s why we call it a disability. It seems to me that it would be more appropriate and effective to acknowledge this, and combat everyday use of the “r-word” on the grounds that it is a trivialization of a serious challenge that many good, respectable people have to face.
Ada Lovelace Day
Perhaps you recall my pledge a couple months back to participate in Ada Lovelace Day, a blogging celebration of women in technology. (Lovelace was the first computer programmer, even before there were computers. She wrote code for Babbage’s analytical engine before it was built.) The pledge needed 1,000 signers to go into effect, and as of right now it has nearly twice that: 1,980. Nearly two thousand people are writing today about a woman in technology they admire. Too cool!
I’ve chosen to write about Stephanie Kwolek, the DuPont chemist who is best known for having invented Kevlar (poly-paraphenylene terephtalamide) in 1964. Five times as strong as steel, Kevlar has found many applications, from sports equipment to synthetic woodwind reeds to bulletproof vests. Kwolek worked on many other synthetic materials, including Lycra and Spandex (probably pretty familiar to you), Nomex (flame-resistant and used by firefighters and race car drivers), and Kapton (used in flexible electronics and space suits).
Stephanie Kwolek graduated in 1946 with a B.S. in chemistry from Margaret Morrison Carnegie College, the now-closed women’s college associated with Carnegie Mellon University. She wanted to go on to medical school but couldn’t afford it, and interviewed for a research position at DuPont. I love this story about her interview:
After [W. Hale] Charch indicated that he would let her know in about two weeks whether she would be offered a job, Kwolek asked him if he could possibly make a decision sooner since she had to reply shortly to another offer. Charch called in his secretary and in Kwolek’s presence dictated a job offer letter. In later years, reflecting upon this bold request for a woman to make in 1946, she suspected that her assertiveness influenced his decision in her favor.
Kwolek holds 28 patents and has won many awards recognizing her contributions to the polymers industry. In 1995 she was inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame. In 1996 she won the National Medal of Technology “for her contributions to the discovery, development and liquid [crystal] processing of high-performance aramid fibers which provide new products worldwide to save lives and benefit humankind.” She also won the Lemelson-MIT Lifetime Acheivement Award in 1999.
Kwolek’s biography in the “Winner’s Circle” on the Lemelson-MIT Program’s website catalogues her many contributions, and also notes that she began her education and career in chemistry
during a time when women were encouraged to be homemakers instead of going to school. Inspired and supported by her parents to pursue this route, Kwolek comments, “I recommend that parents encourage their daughters to pursue scientific careers, if they are so inclined, in the same way they would their sons. The opportunities for both sexes are far more equal now.” Though she faced gender discrimination as she rose to the top, she paved the way for other aspiring female scientists and now serves as a mentor to many.
I found this profile of Kwolek, originally broadcast on public radio as part of a series on women in science. It sounds like she’d be an amazing mentor. She’s certainly an inspiration:
“I discovered over the years,” she said, “that I seemed to see things that other people did not see. Generally, if things don’t work out, I don’t just throw them out, I struggle over them, to try to see if there’s something there. You have to be inquisitive about things. You have to have an open mind.”
That same program notes that as a child, Kwolek had dreamed of being a fashion designer. It makes a nice story, to have wanted to be a fashion designer or a doctor, and end up using chemistry to design fabrics that save lives. I think it’s also interesting in terms of our preconceptions about what being a scientist means and what scientists ought to care about. It’s another reminder that liking traditionally feminine things is not mutually exclusive with being a successful scientist. Additionally, it underscores the fact that the messages we send children matter. Kwolek’s parents could have fostered only her interest in sewing, but they encouraged her to study science. If they hadn’t, the world would really be missing out.
Entertainment, meet science
Although I felt a little guilty at the time for not sitting in technical talks at every opportunity, I’m really glad I stopped in at the Physics and Culture session at the APS March Meeting. (Professor Natelson, I agree with your student — it’s too bad you missed it!) There were several talks that discussed the (typically low) accuracy of science in popular movies and television, and how scientists ought to feel about it. The general consensus among the speakers was that, though we should try for greater accuracy, even bad science was all right because it got people interested in science and it provided a springboard from which we could begin conversations about how to do it right.
One of these speakers was Jennifer Ouellette from the National Academy of Sciences, explaining the NAS’s Science and Entertainment Exchange program. Basically, they match up directors and producers with scientific experts, so that whatever they’re directing and producing can be informed by the scientist’s expertise. This isn’t just about sci-fi flicks. Any time you have special effects, you have to make decisions about how you represent physics on-screen. (Of course, even when you live in a fantasy universe, there are some things we have trouble suspending our disbelief about.) Maybe you just want someone lecturing on math or science in the background of a scene, and you want to make sure what they’re saying is at all coherent. There are many contexts in which the Exchange can make, and has been making, valuable contributions.
I was really excited to hear about this program, and I think it’s great that the NAS is coordinating it. As Ivan Schuller (who spoke later) pointed out, people get bored if you tell them you’re going to “educate” them, but they can’t wait to be “entertained.” It’s good for scientists to make friends with Hollywood, because they can help us teach people things without making them feel like they’re being taught… but it’s next to impossible to do alone. An organization to act as an interface is a brilliant idea.
If you want to be in SEE’s database of scientists they can contact, let them know! (Contact information is on their website.) Jennifer told us that they’re actually looking for more condensed matter / materials science experts… but maybe she was just catering to the March Meeting crowd.
Thoughts from March Meeting
I had a great time at the APS March Meeting. Since I’m attempting to blog anonymously, I’m not going to get into the specifics of which talks I found most interesting/relevant to my research, but there are a few more general things I want to talk about over the next couple days. I’ll discuss some more fun things in the future, but for now, a somewhat grumpy bit about mentoring graduate students.
One of the moments during the meeting which really stuck with me was when a professor got up to give a contributed talk and explained why he was standing there, rather than his doctoral student (whose name was listed in the program). He said something like, “My student was going to give this talk originally, but I decided it was too important not to present myself, so I pushed him away. [chuckle] I hope he isn’t too mad at me.” (The use of the verb “pushed” I remember clearly.) After a brief pause, there was some (I think nervous) laughter from the audience, then he plunged into the rest of his talk.
For what it’s worth, though the talk did cover a reasonably important development, they weren’t the only group talking about it or the first ones to have demonstrated it, and their results weren’t particularly breathtaking as far as I could tell. What I think happened was that a more well-known group was reporting similar results, and when this professor saw the abstracts scheduled, he wanted to seem just as cool as them. But I’m willing to grant for the sake of a thought experiment that the results are actually unique and important. Also, for clarity’s sake: plenty of people give talks for other people at March Meeting. Sometimes people are sick or unexpectedly busy and unable to make it, and someone else in their group covers for them. It’s no big thing. So that part’s not my issue.
I may just be lucky — no, I know I’m lucky — to have an exceptionally nice advisor… but doesn’t this professor’s behavior seem really out of line? I know he’s the one in charge, and (in some cases) the one working day and night in order to win the favor of his tenure committee, but I don’t see any reason for stepping in in this case other than sheer arrogance and credit-greediness. He could have given his own talk; it is okay for multiple talks to come from the same group. (Though he would have had to come up with something at least slightly different to talk about.) The first and, if you want, last slide in the talk can have the professor’s name on it. Really big, if you like. With a picture, so everyone can recognize and find him later if they want, for congratulations or questions. He can make sure to be in the audience. It’s not considered really out-of-line for PIs to jump in during the Q&A period after a talk with more thorough answers than their students give, or offers to discuss issues after the session, so he could have made himself visible to other conference attendees that way too.
I can imagine a professor trying to do important things and get credit for them in order to impress his or her superiors (to get tenure, to get a promotion, to get some other special responsibility assigned to them, etc.). What I can’t imagine is that the tenure committee, or department head, or whoever, cares who is standing in the front of this breakout room in the Pittsburgh conference center to give this 10-minute talk. It doesn’t change whose name is listed in the official record! And presumably all that matters to the tenure committee (or whomever) is that important work was done under the supervision and guidance of this professor. Training brilliant and successful graduate students probably also matters to them, a little bit, yeah? So, having your grad student give this important talk at March Meeting on behalf of your lab is presumably just as good as you giving it yourself, if not better, in terms of your own career advancement.
For the student, on the other hand, being recognized at the conference is potentially a lot more important. Networking is significantly harder when you’re one of the small fish, and a great way to meet people is for them to approach you and ask you questions after your talk. That student is probably going to want a postdoc position someday, probably in the not-so-distant future! It’s not crazy to imagine that he’d end up making contacts in other groups that could lead to eventual postdocs or even permanent jobs.
In talking about this with others, I heard the suggestion that the student might have been terrible at the talk during practices beforehand, and the professor could have been stepping in to save face for his group. In that case, though, I think there’s no reason to explain it this way in front of the audience. (Maybe it’s the explanation you give your student if it’s the last minute and you just can’t convince him he’s unprepared.) You say something like, “My student wasn’t able to present this talk today, so I’m taking his place.” Something that makes it sound like he could have been sick, though you might leave it ambiguous if you’re really averse to little white lies.
Why rant about this, Z? you are probably asking. This one guy was a jerk. Big deal. Well, I’ve read and heard other people’s accounts of working with nightmarish advisors, so I know he’s not the only jerk out there. Also, if I saw one guy like this in during the small slice of the conference I attended (12 out of 14 sessions, minus a few talks here and there that became part of my lunch breaks), there are probably a few more. Each session has about 40 rooms of simultaneous talks. If we assume I saw a reasonable sampling of personalities at the conference, that predicts more than a handful of other professors out there like this one (not to mention a few more who think his behavior is okay but didn’t happen to act like him this time).
I just wanted to put it out there on the tubes that I think this sort of behavior on the part of a professor is inappropriately selfish and not at all constructive. I’m very interested in hearing the opinions of others out there in academic-blogger-land, on how frequent this sort of thing is and whether it’s as bad as it seems to me. (Those links are to people I thought of off the top of my head who’d probably have something to say on this, but this question goes out to everyone.) Tell me: am I very sheltered, or right to be outraged?
Carnivalia
Happy Ides of March! I’m going to be away at a conference this week, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to post much while I’m there. If you’re looking for good stuff to read in the meantime before I return, here are a few recent blog carnivals, great places to find some really interesting posts. In reverse chronological order:
- Skeptics’ Circle #107
- Carnival of the Liberals #86
- Carnival of the Godless #112
- Carnival of the Elitist Bastards X
- Skeptics’ Circle #106
Remembering Kitty Genovese
I can’t say this any better, so I want to send you to Skepchick to read bug_girl’s post.
Today, 45 years ago, a beautiful young woman was sexually assaulted and stabbed in New York. The assault lasted half an hour, and occurred outside of an apartment building where 38 witnesses either heard or saw the attack and did nothing to stop it.
They did nothing.
[...]
I have chosen to be open about my status as a rape survivor because I don’t think it’s something I should be ashamed of. I didn’t make it happen–it just happened. Also, as someone who has the benefit of 20+ years of time and healing, I can say things that more recent survivors may not be able to.
What I want to know is: What are YOU doing to prevent this from happening again? Or about any violence against women?
Go. Read it. And think about it.
GAO on DSHEA
Sorry about the acronyms; just wanted to keep things brief and to-the-point. The Government Accountability Office (GAO) released a report [PDF] recommending increased oversight of dietary supplements. The Dietary Supplement Health and Education Act (DSHEA) has allowed many pseudoscientific products to hide their fraud behind a disclaimer. I’ve discussed this issue here before.
Orac pointed out, I think correctly, that the GAO’s recommendations, while well-intentioned, are “mere Band-Aids on a sucking chest wound.” Nevertheless, it’s nice to see that the government is paying attention to problems like this one, and I’ll take a Band-Aid for starters.
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