Daniel Dennett: How to Live a Happy Life

David Marchese in the New York Times:

For more than 50 years, Daniel C. Dennett has been right in the thick of some of humankind’s most meaningful arguments: the nature and function of consciousness and religion, the development and dangers of artificial intelligence and the relationship between science and philosophy, to name a few. For Dennett, an éminence grise of American philosophy who is nonetheless perhaps best known as one of the “four horsemen” of modern atheism alongside Christopher Hitchens, Richard Dawkins and Sam Harris, there are no metaphysical mysteries at the heart of human existence, no magic nor God that makes us who we are. Instead, it’s science and Darwinian evolution all the way down. In his new memoir, “I’ve Been Thinking,” Dennett, a professor emeritus at Tufts University and author of multiple books for popular audiences, traces the development of his worldview, which he is keen to point out is no less full of awe or gratitude than that of those more inclined to the supernatural. “I want people to see what a meaningful, happy life I’ve had with these beliefs,” says Dennett, who is 81. “I don’t need mystery.”

More here.

The New Science of Evolutionary Medicine

Laith Al-Shawaf at Areo:

If you infect a rabbit with a virus or a bacterium, it’ll start to run a fever. Why? The surprising answer is that fever is not a disease; it’s a defence: a useful evolved mechanism that animals use to kill invading pathogens. Studies show that if you give fever-suppressing drugs to infected rabbits, they’re more likely to die.

It’s not just rabbits—all warm-blooded creatures use fever to kill invasive parasites. Animals that can’t regulate their body temperature internally take a different approach. For example, infected lizards seek a hot rock on which to sunbathe, raising their body temperature and killing the invaders that way—and research shows that disrupting their ability to do this increases their likelihood of death. Infected fish and reptiles exhibit this kind of “behavioural fever,” too. In humans, some studies find that administering fever-suppressing drugs to children may worsen outcomes and prolong the period of illness.

These findings suggest that fever is not a symptom of a disease; it’s an evolved defence that our bodies use to kill harmful invaders. Discoveries like this represent one small part of a larger picture emerging from the new science of evolutionary medicine. There’s a scientific revolution brewing, catalysed by the idea that considering how our bodies evolved will help us better understand and treat disease.

More here.

On Writing and Humiliation Under Iranian Censorship

Moeen Farrokhi at Literary Hub:

I have never told this story in its entirety to anyone: not to my therapist, not to my closest friends, and not even to my family. I’ve divulged bits and pieces of it to different people. When my friends back home in Iran asked me why I was leaving, I made up a thousand different reasons. When my friends in Istanbul asked me what happened and why I came, I said that a part of me had died, that my ambition, courage, and hope for the future had dried up. But I didn’t explain why. I couldn’t connect the single moments into a coherent narrative.

More here.

On Mourning, The Plague, And The Birth Of The Death Instinct

Sarah Nicole Prickett at Bookforum:

WHEN A DEER, A DOE, STEPPED INTO THE ROAD perhaps a hundred and twenty feet ahead of the car I was driving, it seemed for a moment that she would die, even though, during the same moment, I did not feel afraid that I would hit her. I was calm; I returned my smoking hand to the steering wheel; I braked. The deer seemed to be looking at me. There was a chance she might actually run toward me. I switched off the high-beams. All of this happened in two and a half seconds, before the deer continued across the road, safely to the other side, in a single bound. It was then that, exhaling, I realized the extent to which I had felt for—on behalf of—the animal, and for days after I dwelled on the feeling.

Why, in my memory of the moment, was my thought so precisely that the deer would die? Without being afraid, I had made a leap. I had ascribed to her something like a death wish, or, in more properly psychoanalytic terms, a death instinct.

more here.

Making ‘Necessary Trouble’: A historian rises above her roots

Barbara Spindel in The Christian Science Monitor:

Drew Gilpin Faust’s memoir is both a moving personal narrative and an enlightening account of the transformative political and social forces that impacted her as she came of age in the 1950s and ’60s. It’s an apt combination from an acclaimed historian who’s also a powerful storyteller.

“Necessary Trouble: Growing Up at Midcentury” describes Dr. Faust’s upbringing as a privileged white girl in segregated Virginia, where she chafed at constraints placed on her because of her gender and was outraged by the racial discrimination she saw around her. (The book opens with a copy of her handwritten letter to President Dwight Eisenhower, penned at age 9, asking him to end school segregation.)

By the time “Necessary Trouble” concludes in 1968, with Dr. Faust’s graduation from Bryn Mawr College, she had rejected the culture in which she was raised, embracing the civil rights and anti-war movements and daring to imagine a different future for herself. She went on to become a scholar of the American South and, later, the first woman president of Harvard University, a position she held from 2007 to 2018. She recently spoke with the Monitor.

More here.

Hot weight loss drugs tested as addiction treatments

Mitch Leslie in Science:

When the diabetes treatments known as GLP-1 analogs reached the market in 2005, doctors advised patients taking the drugs that they might lose a small amount of weight. Talk about an understatement. Obese people can drop more than 15% of their body weight, studies have found, and two of the medications are now approved by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) for weight reduction. A surge in demand for the drugs as slimming treatments has led to shortages. “This class of drugs is exploding in popularity,” says clinical psychologist Joseph Schacht of the University of Colorado School of Medicine.

But patient reports and animal studies have yielded tantalizing signs that the drugs may spur another unexpected and welcome effect: fighting addiction. Most early trials were disappointing, but they used less potent versions of the drugs. Now, at least nine phase 2 clinical trials are underway or being planned to test whether the more powerful compound semaglutide and its chemical cousins can help patients curb their use of cigarettes, alcohol, opioids, or cocaine. Hopes are high. Semaglutide (sold under the trade names Wegovy, Ozempic, and Rybelsus) “is truly the most exciting drug for the last few decades,” says neuropharmacologist Leandro Vendruscolo of the U.S. National Institute on Drug Abuse.

If the results of the new trials are positive, addiction science could have its own “Prozac moment,” says clinical neuroscientist W. Kyle Simmons of the Oklahoma State University Center for Health Sciences. In the 1980s, that drug brought a sea change to psychiatry, becoming part of popular culture and leading to the wider use of antidepressants.

More here.

Tuesday Poem

Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

by Mary Oliver
from
Poetic Outlaws

1995 Vietnam on Kodachrome Film Slides

Geoffrey Hiller at Saigoneer:

In 1995, there weren’t many foreign tourists in the country. It was a year after the United States normalized relations with Hanoi and lifted sanctions. Most of the passengers on the flight to Hồ Chí Minh City were Việt kiều, visiting their country for the first time since they left. The tension they felt as they cleared customs was obvious.

I stayed for close to a month and mainly traveled overland by train on the Reunification Express from Saigon to Hanoi. I stopped over for a few days each in Nha Trang, Đà Nẵng, Huế and Hanoi, and made overland trips to Đà Lạt and Hội An. Passing through the rice fields of Central Vietnam as the sun was rising felt like a dream; the landscape out the window had so many variations of the color green.

more here.

Go Team?

by Richard Farr

Early in life, when a child’s tender ear is supposed to be protected from blasphemy, I must have overheard someone say it’s only a game

I went to the kind of English boarding school at which rugby, patriotism and Christianity were serious business, competed with each other for our attention, and sometimes threatened to blur. You sensed that on any damp Wednesday afternoon, just before we hoofed it down to the games fields, a gowned Master might seek to ramp up our enthusiasm by reminding us of Jesus Christ’s game-winning try against the Zulus at Rorke’s Drift. Or that on Sunday the chaplain in his pulpit (we were High Church Anglican, very smells and bells) might decide to hold forth interminably on the significance of the Archangel Gabriel’s surprise appearance in the changing rooms after that excellent match against the Germans at El Alamein. 

Whether in chapel or on the sideline it was all about unity, the team, the sense of heartfelt belonging. That was what mattered. And I’m not complaining. OK, I am complaining, because I hated it. But perhaps that really is a good way to socialize adolescent boys. Certainly most of them seemed to take to it like ducks or pigs to their proverbial substances. But I knew early on that I didn’t want the team, or respect it, or feel that I belonged. Unluckily for me, or perhaps not, the more they insisted the more alienated I felt from the whole scheme. Luckily for me, there were other heroic misfits.  Read more »

The Ghost Cop of Rowan Oak

by Deanna Kreisel [Doctor Waffle Blog]

The other day, over cigarettes and beer, my friend M. told me the story of the Ghost Cop of Rowan Oak. She was speaking from authority, as she had just encountered it a few days before. Her boyfriend P. was there—both at Rowan Oak and on my front porch with the cigarettes and the beer—and it was nice to watch them swing on the swing and finish each other’s sentences.

It had all started innocently enough: the two of them had decided to take their dogs C. and Z.[1] on a late-night stroll through M.’s neighborhood, which happens to contain a large antebellum estate known as Rowan Oak. For the benefit of the 99.999% of this publication’s readers who do not live in Oxford, Mississippi: this particular large antebellum estate was home to William Faulkner from 1930 to the time of his death. For the benefit of the 0.001% of this publication’s readers who do not know who that is: William Faulkner was one of the greatest American novelists of the twentieth century, an early practitioner of the subgenre that came to be known as “Southern Gothic,” and a lifelong resident of Oxford who wrote about the town and surrounding area (fictionalized as “Yoknapatawpha County”) in 16 novels and over 50 short stories.

So M. and P. were strolling the other night with her tiny adorable dog and his larger adorable dog, enjoying the delicious bosky springtime air, when they made the fateful decision to extend their walk to the grounds of Faulkner’s estate. They were chatting away when they passed the invisible property line, at which point they were immediately assaulted by a brilliant search light splitting the darkness. A disembodied voice—they couldn’t see the speaker, since he hovered in the dark behind the light—demanded to know what they were doing on the grounds of the estate, which was closed for the night. [N.B. there was no Hours of Operation indication at the time, although a brand-new sign has since mysteriously appeared right on that spot.] M. and P. apologized profusely and were backing away from the bright light in their eyes when the voice went on: “You know, there are a lot of good reasons not to walk around this place at night. I mean … I’ve heard stories.”

P. was pretty sure he wanted to get out of there immediately, but M. was now intrigued. “Oh? Like what?” Read more »

The Dilemma of the International Volunteer, Part 2: Activism in Palestine under an Occupation

by David J. Lobina

Year: 2018

So, what is the role and place of Bustan Qaraaqa within the community they are based in? What connections have they made there? What volunteering, if any, have they promoted in other farms, or in general in the West Bank? And what is their place within the worldwide permaculture network, and of course, to begin with, within the occupation of the Palestinian territories?

In last month’s entry, part of another series of articles of mine, though this time there is only two pieces, I framed the discussion in terms of the conflicts an international volunteer has to face when undertaking an activity, or indeed, an activism, in a place such as Palestine. One important conflict immediately arises, in fact, and this has to do with the realisation of the possible and very serious repercussions that one’s action may have on the native population, perhaps slightly counter-intuitively for some volunteers – they are there to be there to help by definition, are they not?

More often than not, as a matter of fact, a volunteer will be based overseas for a limited amount of time, and they will eventually return to the safety of their own country. The sort of activism that many carry out in Palestine, however, such as marching, attempts to stop demolitions and evictions, etc., whilst constituting cases that might indeed derive into serious consequences for the volunteer (police or army beatings, even gassing, sometimes arrest followed by criminal charges, and typically deportation), often pale in comparison with the repercussions for the population one is trying to assist.

It is doubtless the case that the Palestinians are particularly aware of this, and even though they do sometimes choose to encourage the participation of foreign volunteers anyway – their presence may limit the actions of the occupying forces, at least for the time they are there – this is not a choice that is taken lightly. Volunteering in a permaculture farm, with the aim to create a more sustainable and independent scenario, may appear to be world away from the more direct action activism I have just described, but some of the choices one faces in this case are not exempt of the clash between goals and visions that concerns me here, as we shall see. Read more »

Supreme Corruption: The Highest Extort in the Land

by Mark Harvey

Out of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing was ever made. —Immanuel Kant

Justice Clarence Thomas

I have a couple of friends in my county who might be considered high-powered on the local level. One is a district judge and the other is a county commissioner. I’ve invited the judge to a few local gatherings that support relatively benign conservation groups. He has always declined, saying that he may at some point have to rule on one of their cases, so he doesn’t want any appearance of supporting the group outside of court. I recently invited the county commissioner to a benefit dinner for another conservation group. He accepted the invitation but insisted on paying his way through a donation to the organization as he didn’t want to accept any gift from me. Compared to some of the all-powerful Supreme Court justices like Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito, who rule the land, their ethics are studied and consistent. On Chief Justice John Robert’s court, their ethics might be considered quaint and would find no home.

Thomas and Alito have both accepted extravagant paid vacations worth tens and hundreds of thousands of dollars by political operatives and businessmen who have a lot to gain from having Supreme Court decisions go their way. In Alito’s case, he joined hedge-fund billionaire Paul Singer on his jet to Alaska for a fishing trip in 2008 and then failed to recuse himself on a 2014 Supreme Court decision that ensured Singer netted billions of dollars from a business deal. ProPublica, arguably the best investigative journalism operation in the world, wrote about the story in June. Anticipating the story when ProPublica sent him a list of questions about the Singer trip, Alito wrote a sort of preemptive editorial in the Wall Street Journal defending the trip—before the story was even written.

Part of Alito’s defense of flying on Singer’s jet to Alaska was that there was an empty seat that would have otherwise gone unused. That feeble excuse harkens back to the days of the notoriously corrupt New York Alderman, George Washington Plunkitt, who made the famous distinction between “honest graft” and “dishonest graft.” Serving in the New York City government in the late 19th century, Plunkitt knew in advance what lands would be necessary to complete a public park. So he bought the land and then sold it to the city at a very tidy profit. As he put it, “There’s an honest graft, and I’m an example of how it works. I might sum up the whole thing by sayin’: ‘I seen my opportunities and I took ’em.’” Read more »

Escape From Brain Prison III: Could Artificial Brains be Conscious?

by Oliver Waters 

Part I of this series argued that transferring your personal identity to an artificial brain should be possible. It’s one thing however to preserve the informational content of your identity, and quite another for that content to be conscious. It would be a real shame if your new artificial self was getting about town as a zombified version of you: spending your wages, high fiving your friends – all with no inner subjective awareness.

In her book Artificial You (2019), the philosopher Susan Schneider entertains the possibility that entire alien civilisations may have taken the reckless gamble of transitioning to artificial brains and in the process inadvertently killed off their conscious minds. We would obviously prefer to avoid this nightmarish fate, and our best defence is a proper scientific theory of how consciousness works.

Many doubt that such a theory will arrive any time soon, with some claiming that consciousness is simply beyond our capacity to ever understand. There is also an intuitively compelling and popular notion that a scientific understanding of consciousness is impossible because we only have direct access to our own conscious minds. This view is largely motivated by a mistaken epistemology. Namely, an ‘empiricist’ view that the scientific process consists of building up a theoretical understanding of the world out of the components of raw, direct, sensory inputs. If you think of scientific knowledge as emerging this way, as a systematic reorganisation of what is available to your senses, then the realm of other conscious minds must forever remain out of reach.

But as the philosopher Karl Popper pointed out, ‘sensory inputs’ actually have no meaning unless they are part of a theoretical construct: observation is inextricably ‘theory-laden’. The theory doesn’t have to be a formal scientific theory, by the way. Your intuitive conception of what is going on in front of you (perceiving a sunset, for instance) counts perfectly well as ‘theorising’ in this context. Read more »

Words with Baggage

by Nate Sheff

We trained our dog Gemini using positive reinforcement techniques, “clicker training.” She can sit, give handshakes and high fives, roll over, and we never used negative reinforcement to teach her.

That’s all true, but what do I mean by negative reinforcement? A lot of us assume that it has something to do with punishment, whereas positive reinforcement involves rewarding good behavior, but this assumption isn’t strictly true. To reinforce a behavior is to make that behavior more likely. Giving Gemini a treat when she sits after I make a certain gesture positively reinforces the association between my gesture and her sitting, because it makes that behavior more likely next time I make the gesture. I’m introducing something Gemini wants to strengthen a particular connection between my gesture and her response. On the other hand, when I strengthen a connection by removing something she doesn’t want, I’m negatively reinforcing the behavior.

Punishment involves introducing something unpleasant to make a particular behavior less likely. Sternly telling Gemini that she’s not allowed to eat the cat food is my attempt to punish her, introducing something unpleasant (disappointed dad voice) to make a behavior less likely (eating her sisters’ food). This hasn’t worked yet – maybe I’m not doing the voice right – but my point is that punishment isn’t negative reinforcement. Reinforcement is about making a behavior more likely; punishment is about making a behavior less likely.

This is a nice example of how technical terminology can be subtly misleading when we’re not careful. Read more »

The Shameless Gaze: Artists and Art Patrons

by Andrea Scrima

1.

What is power? The answer is relative, contingent on context. We speak of the power of sexual allure, the power of persuasion, of charisma, but these only rarely translate into sustainable structures of actual dominance. In a capitalist democracy, power is generally economic and political; it’s less frequently defined as intellectual or moral force. As an artist and writer whose works are not, as sometimes happens in other political systems, banned (which would enhance their power in a different intellectual economy), but merely sell poorly, I have relatively little power, and so my words come from the position of a person frequently, in one way or another, subject to the will of others.

Given the vast difference in agency prevailing between artists and patrons, is an intellectual, artistic, ethical discussion on equal terms even possible? Wealth inspires conflicting emotions in people who don’t have it: envy for the ease and security it affords, because so many of the problems that plague us can be solved with money; frustration that the notion of equitable taxation is evidently a utopian impossibility; dismay at the injustices of wealth distribution and the damage the ever-widening economic divide between the haves and have-nots has inflicted on society, the environment, and world peace. But without wealth, it’s said, we would never have had the splendor of kingdoms and courts; the magnificent cathedrals and palaces would never have been built, the arts would never have flourished. The concentration of wealth and the judicious application of its power is what makes civilizations thrive. Indeed, people working in the arts will always find themselves in happy or unhappy alliance with those in a position to fund their endeavors and will forever speculate on the underlying motivations of those who give so “generously.” The relationship that binds the arts to wealth is inherently problematic, a form of co-dependence in which power is negotiated according to ever-shifting terms. Read more »