October 29, 2020
Good morning.
A few
months ago Ian Leslie (writer, author of CURIOUS: The Desire to Know and Why
Your Future Depends On It, and writer/presenter on the BBC), wrote an
article in the (UK) New Statesman that offers insight into current
politics both in the U.S. and elsewhere around the world.
Leslie observes
that "We know a lot less than we think about the world – which explains
the allure of 'simplism.'" He begins with the example of a zipper ("zip"
in the UK) and a 2002 study. The researchers
asked people to rate their own
understanding of how zips work. The respondents answered very confidently –
after all, they used zips all the time. But when asked to explain how a zip
works, they failed dismally. Similar results have been obtained with respect to
flush toilets, piano keys, helicopters and bicycles. It doesn't just apply to
physical objects: people have been found to overestimate their understanding of
climate change, the tax system and foreign policy.
The point is, we all think we understand things that we do
not, and that misapprehension of our knowledge becomes a political problem.
Leslie uses a good example, the cliffs of Dover.
From 30,000 feet, Britain's
coastline has a familiar sweep and shape. Zoom closer in – to, say, the cliffs
of Dover – and it becomes less easy to comprehend. All you can see is a
confusing series of jagged edges; down on the beach, peering at rocks with a
magnifying glass, the coastline refuses to resolve itself into a regular
pattern. The closer you look, the more that comprehension eludes you.
That is reality, Leslie maintains. The more you consider a
complex matter, often there are more questions than answers, and the more
complex the matter, the more there are questions. This is what is known as "the
illusion of explanatory depth" or "the knowledge illusion."
Taken as a whole, we know a great deal, but on an individual level, knowledge
is uneven and few master the details of complex issues. We nonetheless believe
we understand many of the great problems facing the world: climate change,
racism, wealth inequality, astrophysics, and so on. It is only when pressed
that we realize—and admit—that we know squat about something.
In the
experiments, after realizing they really don't understand something,
people concede their ignorance, Leslie says. But in politics now, politicians
never like to acknowledge they didn't know something or that life is complex. "They
have no idea how zippers work, but they have very strong views on how to make
them. The disease of politics today is not populism, so much, as simplism: the
oversimplification of complex problems." Slogans and sound bites have long
been a part of campaigns, but it becomes more and more problematic as challenges
become more and more complex.
It is not
just the political figures. "Voters are simplists too. We live in an
increasingly globalised, diverse, interdependent, technology-led society, but
most of us don't like to think about it. We take for granted enormously complex
achievements, such as the presence of milk in your supermarket, or the phone in
your pocket." Even though we don't understand things (e.g., immigration,
climate change), we think we do—and have strong opinions about them. Leslie
observes that "it's almost an axiom: any issue worthy of public debate is
too complicated for most voters to understand." But we don't like to
believe we don't understand issues because then we feel we don't have control
over them; that is the point at which voters rebel against complexity and vote
for simplicity.
Leslie
reports that
Simplism is changing the way we
feel about each other, too. Dan Kahan, a Yale professor, is one of America's
leading experts on political polarisation, and one of his findings is that
partisanship results from incuriosity. If you have a very different opinion to
me on immigration, that might be because you have a very different experience
of it from me. But to contemplate your different life experience requires an
expense of brainpower to which most of us are unwilling to commit. It's more
efficient to dismiss others as bigoted or gullible.
The left
and right in America have their own simplisms. Those on the right reduce things
to black and white, such a "voter guide" I've seen circulating on the
web, promoted by conservatives, that paints a stark picture of the differences
between Biden and Trump. All nuance is lost, and with it accuracy is lost. I
believe the left is more capable of addressing complexity, but bores voters in
doing so, and the left is quite willing to believe in elites (wealthy, by
industry, whatever) controlling the world behind the scenes. On balance,
however, I have to say that the right (more to the point, the farther right) is
somewhat more prone to cast everything in a good-versus-evil light, with little
room for the gray that characterizes most of life.
* * *
I do not like a world where I am
depressed. I am never depressed except in extreme circumstances, and
even then I recover reasonably well (finding out I was getting divorced,
Krystin's death, although the latter is something from which one never fully
recovers). But the concatenation of events, some in the larger world, some
personal, make me apathetic and tired.
The political scene (about which there is room for guarded optimism, if
one is a liberal/progressive, but I'll wait until I see votes counted before
being relieved), the pandemic, and (for those of us living in the upper Midwest)
this damn early winter (record October snowfalls and low temperatures ending all
outdoor social interaction) are the larger forces. (As I commented to a couple
of friends, this early winter is so 2020.) The minor factors are
irritating medical issues (none life-threatening, none even that serious, and
none worth belaboring, but with mild and I think temporary effect on my daily
life). All these dumb little medical issues, in combination with the setting of
our lives right now, puts me in a state of mind I do not like. At least Elliott
& Martha are doing fine and so is Kathy.
We knew this was coming, winter
putting an end to outdoor social events, and I'm reminded once again (and
often) of the lines from Macbeth: "Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded
time." Fortunately, I can be optimistic that it won't be until the last
syllable of recorded time, but I know darn well the pandemic effects will
remain through next spring or summer. We're less than halfway through them. Most
socializing is all done, except with family, until we go to Florida—and we are
incredibly glad to have that as something to look forward to as we wind our way
through these next isolated 9-10 weeks.
* * *
How Gary
gets off on tangents. And then learns more than he expected to.
I was
grousing to a friend about these medical annoyances and how they seem to be
attributable to aging. She wrote back: "I will say that it is discouraging
and frustrating how many ailments get attributed to 'aging.' Good grief! Even
when you regard yourself as 'healthy,' you still have 'stuff.' I have a
boatload of stuff." After I finished laughing, I composed a paragraph
about evolution and aging, and then realized that before I spouted off I should
perhaps check with a long-time friend who's a retired biologist from the
University (and of the people I worked with, one of the ones I admired the
most). Here's what I wrote and sent to her:
I think that from an evolutionary
standpoint, at our age we're worthless, used up. At the dawn of humanity, women
had children at 14-15-16, stuck around long enough to raise them, maybe a few
more years to help with infant grandchildren, and then they died at 35-40. Men
died equally young for a variety of reasons. We just aren't programmed to live
into our 60s and 70s and 80s. So lots of things go wrong because they weren't
built to function as long as they now do. But better to be here and put up with
the annoyances than the alternative!
My biologist friend
wrote back, and I'm going to simply copy and paste the pertinent part of what
she wrote (with her permission) because it is such a good (and clear)
explanation.
On
aging: Your explanation is superficially
okay, meaning good enough for a non-biologist. So if that is what you want to
send to your friend, there is nothing glaringly wrong with it. But the
biologist would question "why AREN'T we programmed to live longer?"
The first
thing needed to understand aging or any other topic from an evolutionary
biology standpoint is that evolution (change in a population over time) is
driven by reproductive fitness of individuals in that population. Reproductive
fitness is the ability of an individual to pass on its genes into the next
generation. Anything that contributes to that fitness that has a genetic basis
-- like strength, absence of genetic diseases that kill during reproductive
age, social behavior, mating strategies and success, fertility and fecundity --
will be passed on to the next generation in higher amounts by those who have
the most offspring (and whose offspring have the most offspring, etc.) Thus, if
the peacock's tail increases the number of females that will mate with him, the
ability to make that flashy tail will increase in subsequent generations.
So how does
aging factor into reproductive fitness?
There are two widely accepted explanations: the mutation accumulation hypothesis and the
antagonistic pleiotropy hypothesis. The first reflects that the more a cell
divides, the more likely a mutation will occur in its genetic material. Most
mutations will be deleterious (because an organism that has evolved to be well
adapted to its environment, already has a good mix of the right genes.) If the
mutations only affect an individual once it is past reproductive age, there is
no natural selection against these mutations so the mutations accumulate in the
population. So we all inherit genes that cause negative changes in our bodies
as we age. The second [explanation] posits
that some genes may give an advantage to the young (reproductively active)
population, but cause some disadvantage in the older (no longer reproducing)
population. These genes have a pleiotropic effect (production by one gene of
two, seemingly unrelated, effects.) In
the case of aging, the pleiotropic effects are antagonistic -- good for the
young, crappy for the old.
I think that
the most currently accepted view on aging from an evolutionary biology
standpoint is that aging is due to a combination of mutation accumulation and
antagonistic pleiotropy. So we get genes that will cause aging because they
have no effect in the young or because the effect in the young is a positive
one. Put together, we get all the aches and pains and problems of old age.
If you are
lucky, your germline has fewer of the mutations and you can live a long life
(now that we have vaccines, antibiotics, water sanitation, secure food supply);
if you are unlucky, your germline will give you early heart disease, high blood
pressure, early onset dementias.
I had to ask what your "germline" is.
These are
the cells in a multicellular organism (like us!) that give rise to eggs and
sperm. The cells are set aside early in fetal development. [They] pass on the
genes from one generation to the next generation (thus the "line")
AND are also the cells that give rise to all other cells in the body.
So what is
their significance? Any mistake
(mutation) in a germline cell will be passed on to future generations. Mistakes in non-germline cells (i.e. all
other cells in your body) are NOT passed on to future generations.
If we do
gene therapy (gene editing) on the lungs of a person suffering from cystic
fibrosis, curing them of the most ravaging effect of this disease, their
germline cells will still pass on the CF gene to the next generation. If, however, we do gene therapy on the egg or
sperm or the fertilized egg/very early embryo -- so gene therapy BEFORE the
germline cells have been put aside during development (development of the
gonads: ovaries and testes), then that
genetic change WILL be passed on to future generations. Sounds like it would be a good thing,
right? Cure CF before the embryo gets
too far in development -- YAY! But the
problem is that we really can't at this time be sure that our gene therapy
doesn't have some unforeseen effect.
Maybe it cures CF but causes early kidney failure. Maybe it cures CF but makes the person
significantly more like to have severe lung damage after even a simple
cold. Or maybe it contributes to faulty
brain development. We just don't know
because we don't understand the full complexity of how cells work either alone
or in combination and communication with all other cells during development.
Thus, there
is an international agreement by scientists that we should not be doing gene
editing in germlines yet.
I asked her
how my initial narrative intersected with her explanation.
I look at
your answer as more of the "effect" than the "cause." You
wrote what was observed -- kind of like observing a car accident, chronicling
the results of the accident. By putting
in the note about evolution, you were indirectly posing the question "why?" What caused the accident? What caused us to
be "worthless and used up"?
My answer
went into the background cause. So your answer was fine to explain the effect
and mine simply went into the cause (as we understand it at this moment in
time.)
And I think
we weren't ready to look at the cause until our life expectancy extended so
much. Life expectancy before modern society was quite a bit lower in large part
because of so much infant and child mortality (hard to live past 3 years old)
but also plagues, famine, etc. It didn't mean no one lived to an older age,
just very few. But now many of us live way past reproductive age. So the
question of why, if we can live past reproductive age, do we still get old,
wear out, and die?
So there,
for those of my age cohort, more or less, is the current scientific view on why
we all go downhill.
* * *
I sent a
message to the two Minnesota Senators.
Dear Senators Klobuchar and Smith,
I write simply to urge you to support any plan to increase the number of
Justices on the Supreme Court. With its current membership, it is poised to
make some disastrous decisions. But I do not believe a Biden administration has
to rush. The Court will make a controversial decision (e.g., reverse
Obergefell, declare Social Security and/or Medicare unconstitutional) that will
create the impetus and public support to act.
Thank you.
* * *
We recently
did our not-daily-but-it-should-be walk at the Mall of America. We got out
there just a bit before the stores open (the mall opens earlier for walkers)
and were there for a time after the stores had opened. The place was just about
empty even after stores opened. There was no risk of too much crowding; of
course a few jerks didn't have masks on and some seem not to understand that
the mask has to cover the nose as well as the mouth. But I would guess that 99%
of people had masks on. I also discovered that very few of the stores that were
there when we used to take the kids to Camp Snoopy 20+ years ago or otherwise
go out there shopping are still there: Barnes & Noble, Macys, a Minnesota
store, Clarks (shoes), Legoland, and maybe a couple of others. I don't think I've
actually *gone shopping* there for well over a decade, although it is the
closest mall for us. But in the passage of years, the stores have almost
completely turned over. (I think one reason I haven't gone shopping there is because
I haven't gone shopping anywhere. I don't need more clothes and the
house has pretty much everything required for daily life. When we're aiming to
decrease the number of items we possess, shopping consists largely of buying
replacement underwear and socks and towels and jeans.)
The MOA is not
a pleasant place to walk, compared to parks and lakes. We'll do it only when we
have to. Or we'll stay home. But we'll put on our parkas and long underwear and
walk outdoors when wind chills aren't below zero.
* * *
Despite the
downturn in the weather, we have decided it will (barely) permit two more
outdoor gatherings. We will remember Krystin on Saturday: Elliott & Martha,
Krystin's mom Pat, and Peggy & Dan. Peggy is the mom of one of Krystin's
closest friends; Peggy was also very close to Krystin and she and Dan adopted
Krystin's two cats when Krystin was no longer able to care for them. Peggy was
the only non-family member at the hospital with us when Krystin died. Peggy is now
a cancer survivor, still on medications, and there is no way we would want to
risk being indoors with her (nor would she want to be). So we will gather in
Pat's backyard around her firepit the day after Krystin's birthday (a day late because
it will be 10 degrees warmer on Saturday than Friday). We'll all smell like
smoke later, but that's OK. That's what washing machines are for.
Elliott's
birthday is November 3, so occasionally falls on election day, which it does
this year. We will gather outside on our deck to celebrate; the predicted high
is 60 degrees, so we can bundle up and be outdoors, at least for awhile. I am
sure that several of us will be checking election returns off and on all
evening.
* * *
Finally, a
question to you on a matter of no significance whatever. I had occasion to go
to the doctor last week for one of my minor medical issues. When the doctor
came in, she immediately asked, "How are we doing this morning?" and
later posed questions such as, "Are we feeling better after I do x?" My
first instinct, with that query, is to respond, "I don't know how *we* are
doing but *I'm* doing well, thank you." Using "we" makes me feel
like I'm a kindergartener being addressed by my teacher. (I didn't indulge my
impulse to retort and just responded politely.) Is that reaction idiosyncratic with me or does
it annoy you, too?
I hope you
are all faring well during this trying period of our lives.
-- Gary
