BBC: Death... Not Quite Permanent?

I've been pondering life and death again (you know, as you do). We humans tend to think of the two as definite, opposing states of being. The vast majority of the time, we have no problem identifying someone as "alive" or "dead." But, as science fiction has predicted, we've arrived at an age when these concepts are no longer quite binary -- when it's possible to restore to life someone who's been, albeit briefly, declared dead. See this article from last year:

http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20140704-i-bring-the-dead-back-to-life

Cryonics and cryogenics has been a well-trodden trope in popular fiction for decades, from the works of Robert Heinlein and Arthur C. Clarke (of the "Golden Age of Science Fiction") to Captain America's decades of being frozen in a block of ice. Science is nowhere near such capabilities, of course, and it's important for the general public to understand what is and is not possible, to be able to distinguish between fact and fiction (and fiction that might well become fact in the future). Most of the scientists cited in the above BBC article, for example, are careful to qualify their work. But the mere possibility -- the mere notion that we might be capable of blurring the boundary between life and death -- calls into question some of humanity's most deep-seated beliefs.

One of the most memorable moments in genomics research (which could be considered the other end of the debate) came from Dr. Craig Venter, the geneticist and entrepreneur best known for his work in mapping the human genome and in artificially synthesizing life. When he was asked how he felt about "playing God," Venter famously replied, "I don't play."

Clever quip aside, the creation of life and the reversal of death are traditionally the provinces of myth. Much of human fascination with divinity and the supernatural stems from our desire to understand -- and in some small way, influence -- these opaque, immutable bookends to our time on earth. We, like all other living creatures, are by nature afraid of death, and seek to stave it off as long as we can. If given the option to return from the other side, I'd venture that most people would do so without hesitation. And who wouldn't want to bring back a newly-deceased loved one, if they could?

What, then, might it mean to live, if we could choose not to die? Issues of reproduction and overpopulation aside (though those, too, would become important challenges), would near-immortality change the nature of humanity? How and why would one decide to die? Tolkien's elves, incidentally, would be a close approximation of that dilemma.

I'm reminded of something a wise man once said, about that final journey:

"After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

~Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Free Will and Nuclear Winter

I've been thinking, lately, about free will -- and I recalled this article that I read last year. It's a good, concise analysis of causality (particularly the bits about levels of complexity), and addresses some of the fallacies of breaking down human behavior into ever-smaller constituent components:

http://www.slate.com/articles/health_and_science/science/2013/09/free_will_debate_what_does_free_will_mean_and_how_did_it_evolve.html

The question is a version of "are we more than the sum of our parts?" Many people attempt to derive an answer from religion, espousing a concept of "soul," a metaphysical quantity that science is -- by definition -- unable to prove or disprove. But in the absence of such a belief, are we not just collections of atoms? Isn't each of our thought processes a mere chemical reaction in our neurons? It's a chilling way to think about ourselves; the idea that there is only one possible course of events because our actions are governed by a set immutable physical laws, that each circumstance leads logically into a specific next circumstance, is essentially a secular version of the idea of fate or predestination.

But there's a scientific argument against fate: the multiverse. If there is an infinite number of possible universes, infinitely many points at which one universe becomes multiple, then there isn't one logical state for the universe at any given point in time. The possibility of parallel universes implies, if not conscious choice at all times, then at least many possible outcomes, none of which are certain to happen. Quantum physics likewise deals with uncertainty -- with thought experiments such as Schroedinger's Cat, in which a situation manifests both possible outcomes simultaneously. Science, it appears, disproves fate.

Then, there are situations like this one, in which one person's choice, a split-second decision in a situation of incomplete information, may have prevented all-out nuclear destruction:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-24280831

Given a circumstance like this, it's hard not to believe in free will. I'm sure that there's a parallel universe out there in which the world ended on September 26, 1983.

BBC: Royal Pardon for Alan Turing (Finally!)

Two days ago, fifty-nine years after he was driven to suicide by discrimination and the overwhelming solitude of misunderstanding, Alan Turing finally received a royal pardon for violating the so-called "gross indecency" laws of his time:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/technology-25495315

Though his downfall was perhaps not as well-publicized and posthumously noted as that of Oscar Wilde in the century before his, it was no less a travesty for humanity. (And to think that society had not budged an inch on homosexuality between 1900 and 1954!) Turing was one of the finest cryptanalysts in history, as well as one of the founding fathers of modern computer science, and he was just forty-one years old when he died. One can't help but wonder what great and wonderful things he might have accomplished in his later years had he lived.

I am reminded, somewhat, of the story of Johnny Gunther, immortalized in his father's memoir Death Be Not Proud. Gunther was another extremely promising young man who died even younger, as a teenager, after a valiant struggle with brain cancer. Untimely "early" deaths, like those of Turing, Wilde, and Gunther seem especially tragic because of the injustice of the situation (particularly with Turing and Wilde, whose deaths were entirely preventable) and the abruptly curtailed possibilities of their later lives. Entirely due to human stupidity and prejudice, Turing was never afforded the opportunity to reach his full potential. I can only imagine, for a person brimming with ideas, curiosity, and the drive to contribute meaningfully to the sum of human knowledge, to hold in his hand the poisoned apple and think that such an exit was preferable to the future that lay before him...

The royal pardon is too little, too late, but at least some six decades later, we recognize and regret the human cruelty that hounded Alan Turing to his death, and move forward as a society with an awareness that we did not have before.

R.I.P Seamus Heaney

A literary luminary died today:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-13930435

I've owned a copy of Seamus Heaney's translation of Beowulf for as long as I can remember, and I've read it cover-to-cover at least three times. It's beautiful, and not just because the parallel text (with annotations!) indicates just how faithfully Heaney translated from the original Anglo-Saxon. Rather, given the cadence and word choice of his modern English, it becomes immediately evident that the translator is himself a poet.

Few poets have been as universally revered in their lifetimes as Heaney was. It has been said, even before today, that he was Yeats's successor as Ireland's foremost poet -- and one would be hard-pressed to find a competitor for the accolade. His original poetry was not only sublime, but also widely accessible -- he was a true poet of the people. His laurels are too many to count (including the Nobel Prize in Literature, the Struga Golden Wreath, and the Irish PEN), but in my mind, one of his most significant accomplishments was that he brought poetry to those who might not otherwise consume poetry, who might consider the art too academic, too arcane. He brought beauty and wonder to generations of readers who saw something of themselves set on paper in his words.

He was, by all accounts, a compassionate and upstanding man who was profoundly aware of his position as a voice of the people in a land often rent by civil and religious strife. He tried to balance a sense of cultural heritage and pride of place with a concern for individuals that was evident in everything he wrote. One of my favorite of his poems, "Digging," describes his work as a natural continuation of the life's work of his forefathers, telling the story of several generations in just a few verses. (You can hear Heaney's own rendition of it here.)

A star has fallen.

Edit: I just discovered that Seamus Heaney's last words, delivered via text message, were "Noli timere" (Latin for "Be not afraid"). How fitting -- he was a poet to the last.

BBC: A One-Way Trip to Mars

I've been reading Asimov lately, and consequently thinking about space colonization. One of the most often-cited barriers to human colonization of extraterrestrial worlds is the presumed lack of volunteers willing to make a one-way journey to another planet; it seems too conclusive, a course of action only the deeply desperate or truly dissatisfied would be willing to undertake. (Fortunately for human rights, but unfortunately for space colonization, penal colonies -- the interplanetary version of 19th century Australia -- don't seem to be a viable option.)

It seems, however, that not everyone shares said pessimism about human civilization beyond Earth:
http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20120206-space-tourists-one-way-mars-trip

There are a number of examples of migration and settlement in human history that may be considered analogues of space colonization. The Thirteen Colonies, for example, were populated by settlers who never expected to return to their lands of origin, and who were largely unable to communicate with family and friends from their precolonial lives (a product of distance, the unreliability of mail delivery, and illiteracy). And yet, there was no shortage of people willing to make the trip -- there were convicts and bondsmen, to be sure, but also religious minorities, merchants, speculators, explorers, and all manner of people who believed that they could build a better life in the uncharted wilderness than in the known, civilized world. I don't believe that this strain of optimism and curiosity will have disappeared between then and whenever we are capable of sending colonists beyond our orbit.

Would I go? I must admit: probably not. I have too many Earthly attachments -- people, places, moments, experiences (especially people). I would have been reluctant, I think, even in the later eras of immigration by ship; see the song "Kilkelly." It's no coincidence that so many of the early colonists in North America were particularly fervent Protestants who believed that one's mortal existence was ultimately inconsequential (predestination, and the complete rejection of Catholic belief in deed as well as faith), or people with few ties to their original communities, for varying definitions of community. But in an age of faster interplanetary travel, I'd sure love to visit!

Also, I think the idea of sending a few intrepid journalists to document the development of the Martian colony is brilliant. It's not often that we get to study the development of a nascent civilization, and it would prove instructive to have such a chronicle on hand once the colonization of space really begins.

The article mentions a hypothetical poll; I would be very interested to see the results of that particular study. I'm especially curious as to the demographics of an all-volunteer Martian colony, and whether they would reflect a population roughly comparable to the New World colonists.

BBC: Parisian Women Legally Allowed to Wear the Pants

There are a surprising number of antiquated laws in the books, in France and in any country (including the US) with a long legal history. A lot of these are along the lines of "morality" laws, faith-based laws, sumptuary laws, &c. -- laws that regulated behavior and are no longer compatible with modern notions of freedom of expression. Most of these were buried in reams of text and forgotten about as times changed and attitudes modernized, so nobody ever got around to changing them. Of course, because they seem so silly, few of these laws are actually enforced these days, which allows them to remain in the books until someone stumbles upon them, as in the case with Parisian women's pants (Trouser pants, not... underwear pants. In France, I imagine underwear might have a whole different set of laws, or lack thereof.)

Anyhow, there was apparently a ban on Parisian women wearing pants that was never stricken from the books until now:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-21329269

It reminds me of this book, which for some reason has been sitting on my sister's shelf for a good many years.

BBC: This is Why We Should Let Young People Sleep In

This article reminds me of a diary entry I from my high school days:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/7932950.stm

I think this warrants some explanation. See, I used to keep a diary in high school. Looking back at it, I realize I may not have been very good at actual diary-keeping. There are entries written entirely in Tengwar -- which, while a good system for maintaining secrecy, is also somewhat inhibitive to actually reading said entries -- and long digressions about Napoleon and epidemiology and black holes (different entries), and not actually that much about how my day went. So, while I can't read these diaries and get a particularly good sense of what daily life was like in high school, I now remember that for a brief period in 2005, I thought that the Spanish flu pandemic of 1918 was the most fascinating event of the millenium. Or something.

Anyhow, in said diary, there's an entry from 2006 wherein I complain about how early I had to wake up for school (6:30 am). In that entry, I came up with what I thought was a pretty logical theory explaining why teenagers didn't like to wake up early. I postulated that it was an evolutionary advantage for adolescents in hunter-gatherer societies to be awake late in the night in order to keep a continuous lookout for the tribe; this would have been necessary because people were still living in fairly un-defended dwellings, where they could easily be attacked by carnivorous predators. Naturally, it seems like the elderly go to bed early and wake up extremely early (just look at all the old people doing Tai Chi in the park!), and real adults keep what society considers normal hours. Therefore, it would be up to the adolescents to bridge the gap between say, midnight, when the adults go to bed, 5:00 AM, when the elderly wake up. Nighttime is when the big nocturnal predators hunt -- and also when mammalian prey, which included homo sapiens, was most vulnerable, because of their reliance on sight over the other four senses. Adolescents tend to have the best night vision and the fastest reflexes, making them the ideal group to keep watch in the darkest hours.

Of course, this evolutionary advantage is no longer so advantageous, as teenagers now have to operate on a largely adult schedule. I think it causes a lot more teenage stress than adults generally believe. (I think this applies to people in their twenties, too -- like me.) This program sounds like a good way of addressing it, and it's a pity I didn't have something like this when I was in high school: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/england/tyne/7932108.stm

Now I'm a "real" adult, so I guess I have to stick to the nine-to-five, even though it's not natural to my biorhythms. I guess it's better than eight-to-three.

BBC: Etiquette Ninjas at the Cinema

A novel and clever way of getting people to behave at the movies:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-19622445

I think one of the biggest reasons people -- especially people who are normally reasonable and well-mannered -- misbehave in certain specific situations, like at cinemas and behind the wheel, is because they think they won't be held accountable. There's a veneer of anonymity that strips away self-consciousness of, and shame about, bad behaviours. Having "etiquette ninjas" point out their rudeness instantly draws attention to the wrongdoer as a misbehaving individual, in a public setting where people don't want to be embarrassed. It's an excellent way of bringing those civilizing qualities back, with humor and style.

R.I.P. Ray Bradbury

He died this week (on the 5th). The New York Times obituary:
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/06/07/books/ray-bradbury-popularizer-of-science-fiction-dies-at-91.html?_r=1&ref=arts&gwh=DAB304701677810DA93A673A1510F1D2

I first learned of it from Neil Gaiman's blog, actually. He was tapped to write a tribute piece in The Guardian, and he paints a beautiful portrait of this science fiction maestro:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jun/06/ray-bradbury-neil-gaiman-appreciation

We all knew that Bradbury was a pioneer of the genre. We all admired his skill, his imagination, his understanding of human nature. This reveals a side of him that, sadly, many of us never encountered -- the genuine, kind human being. People like that are precious.

Here's another:
http://www.bbc.com/future/story/20120608-meeting-the-master-ray-bradbury

I love his devotion to the book as an object (something I'm more than a little afraid that e-readers will kill off), especially seeing as he was a science fiction writer. (I have an e-reader, but I feel the same way about books, which increasingly makes me appear a troglodyte among my peers.) I love his enthusiasm. And of course, as Gaiman so eloquently depicted it, his kindness.

Rest in peace, Mr. Bradbury.

BBC: The Japanese Quest for the Perfect Fruit

Asian gifting (and general social niceties) taken to a horticultural extreme:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-radio-and-tv-17352173

It's an interesting social phenomenon, but seriously, that technology and effort could be put to so much better use! If horticulturalists in Japan had only chosen to attempt, say, breeding better crop plants and alleviating hunger in the developing world, imagine all the good they could be doing. It reminds me a little of the way the Japanese electronics industry developed; for a long time, they were among the most reliable manufacturers of electronics in the world, and yet, they stuck to making things like televisions, and kitchen appliances, and little toy robot things. They innovated, of course, but it was mostly on a small scale -- how to make a better circuit board and the like -- rather than dreaming big, as big as they could have. And now, given the way the Japanese economy's looking, it might be just a little too late.

Anyhow, I don't know how that turned from "look at this interesting, slightly ridiculous cultural quirk" to "let's solve all the world's problems." But -- just look at all those melons in a row!

BBC: V (for Vendetta) as a Cultural Symbol

In light of the Occupy movement's and Anonymous's adoption of the Guy Fawkes mask as a rallying image, Alan Moore, the creator of the original comic V for Vendetta writes for the BBC on the cultural cachet that the vigilante V holds in the collective consciousness:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/technology-16968689

The tagline should be V's quotation about how he's not a man, but an idea -- and ideas never die. One of the problems that the Occupy movement, at least, will have to confront, is precisely that it's an idea, an exercise of populist sentiment. Its lack of leadership and a practical agenda might well deflate the movement. The advantage that V had is that his idea was embodied in a single person, with his own goals and vision, his own coherent plan of action. He was the figurehead, if not the de facto leader of his own revolution. Occupy doesn't have that single person, than coherency. It has the mask -- many such masks -- but not the single visionary behind it.

BBC: Vaccine Developed Against Ebola

This is news:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-16011748

I remember reading Richard Preston's The Hot Zone when I was in middle school, shortly after taking a summer course on epidemiology. It was probably one of the scarier experiences of my childhood. I've always had a rather active imagination, and I was busy identifying symptoms, thinking that I had come down with bubonic plague, or leprosy, or some such disease every other day. Ebola took it to a whole new level; I think I had about a week when I was convinced I was about to die. I wish this vaccine had existed back then -- if only for my own peace of mind.

Advice from the Doctor

Enough said.

BBC: Human-Induced Fires Sow Seeds of the Future

"Natural" selection at work:
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-15674495

It's an interesting, if not surprising, case of observable evolution, much like the moths adapting to soot-stained England a century or two ago.

Bonfire Toffee

Seeing as it's the Fifth of November, a few friends and I are watching V for Vendetta. I made Bonfire Toffee for the occasion, using a recipe from the BBC Food Programme:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/factual/foodprogramme_recipe_toffee1.shtml

It's really sticky and tastes strongly of molasses. I've tested it on my friends, and they like it!

BBC: Saudi Women Gain Right to Vote!

Breaking news from yesterday: 
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-15052030

Tangible fruits of the Arab Spring!

BBC: Ten Strange Ways Tudors Died

Not so much royal Tudors, but Englishmen and women who lived (and died) during the Tudor dynasty:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-13762313

Lifespans were significantly shorter back then (the most common culprit being disease, and probably childbirth) but these are some more interesting, historically accurate ways to go. For a fair number of them, I would say they brought it upon themselves. Can you imagine what their families might have had inscribed on their tombstones?

BBC: Parakeets Intimidate Garden Birds

Much like many other non-native species introduced into a very different habitat, parakeets appear to cause problems (thankfully, non-lethal ones) in the local ecosystem:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/nature/13524396

We used to get a lime green bird or two in our backyard every year (we might still, but I unfortunately don't have extended periods of time to spend gazing out the kitchen window anymore). My sister and I were always very excited to see them -- to see any colorful bird, really, considering we usually get sparrows and pigeons. Bluejays and cardinals were great, too, but the green ones were really something. As children, we never surmised that they might have been former house pets, though even then, we knew they had to come from elsewhere. We'd kept parakeets before, but they were budgerigars -- blue and white ones -- and looked significantly different.

This sort of story is increasingly common, what with increased human encroachment on previously virgin lands, and especially in this case, human tastes in animal companions. It's striking to me how much humanity influences its surroundings on a tiny, daily level. Reminds me of this BBC article I posted half a year ago.

BBC: Royal Roses Planted at Windsor Great Park

It seems like everyone is terribly excited about the upcoming nuptials of Prince William and Catherine Middleton. (I can see how it's exciting, even though the British monarchy has no real power anymore.) Related to the hoopla, I found an article on an interesting botanical tradition behind royal weddings:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-berkshire-13152315

The Catherine rose is quite pretty, though I think the breed name really isn't quite distinctive enough. There have been so many British princesses and queens named Catherine (Henry VIII alone had two wives of that name) that I don't think, in a few decades, anyone will remember that this rose was named for this particular Catherine. (The Royal William rose, methinks, is only slightly less drably named.)

Nonetheless, it seems like a particularly beautiful thing to have a rose named after you. In this case, it's within the dictates of royal tradition, but I imagine that, for a botanist, to name a rose after someone she loved would be much like writing him a love letter or buying him a ring, only orders of magnitude greater -- like an astronomer naming a star for someone.

BBC: Tiger Team Marks Twenty Years of Conflict Resolution

One of the biggest problems facing wildlife conservationists today is human-predator conflict -- not the one-sided conflict between poachers and game, but rather that of ordinary villagers faced with large carnivores that venture ever-deeper into human territory, because they have nowhere else to go, by virtue of the destruction of their natural habitats and human encroachment onto their natural lands. Often, such stand-offs result in aggressive measures on the part of the human villagers, including resurgence of poaching in areas that would otherwise not engage in such activities.

This Russian Tiger Response Team reduces the instances of aggressive retaliation by giving villages recourse -- they deal with tigers in a humane, safe, and effective way -- and have been doing so for twenty years:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/earth/hi/earth_news/newsid_9313000/9313098.stm

It's heartening to see.