View from the Loft

A response to "Animist on Atheism"

Paragardener and I had a brisk discussion about atheism, materialism, and spirituality on Facebook the other day, one that may have helped launched his recent blog post, "Animist on Atheism." In it, he posits that without the spiritual, we humans turn the world into Mordor. In what follows, I apologize if I've misunderstood anything and welcome correction.

He begins by offering the theory that atheism took off when science-y types rejected the Christian concept of god. Actually, scientists and religion got along very well for a very long time; I would really argue with his implying that science easily and quickly left religion behind. But I don't want to spend time on that, as it's kind of a side branch of his overarching argument.

Let's get to the heart of the matter:

The atheist denial of natural spirits is based on an error, the belief that the spirit world is basically a lie communicated to the people by priests. For most people over most of human time, the spirit world was much more directly accessible.

Just a couple of sentences, but a lot to unpack.

First, most atheists have come to their lack of belief in god, gods, or spirits because there is no evidence for such. Many of us have arrived at our atheism by means of critical thinking, rejection of the usual arguments for god (or spirits)--the same tired arguments are offered over and over--and noticing the lack of evidence for god(s)/spirits. Our unbelief isn't primarily derived from priests (a term I assume includes all those who represent official, organized systems of religious belief) being the ones who communicate the lies. Instead we reject the very existence of said gods or spirits. You can ingest a lot of lies all by yourself just by reading the bible and believing what you read. Or you can see an eclipse and attribute it to a fearsome sky spirit. The intervening priestly class isn't necessary for the propagation of lies, although it certainly has helped that along. 

For atheists, the lies are pretty self-evident. We really don't believe in a spirit world, directly accessible or not.

Interestingly, much of Paragardener's post actually invokes natural processes and not spirits at all. For example:

On an everyday level, people were trained to rely on their instinct or “see with the heart.” Cesar Milan, the Dog Whisperer, describes it thus: “I spent much of my childhood in a third-world, rural environment where we had to be in tune with Mother Nature for our very survival… To be instinctual means to be clearheaded, open, and aware of the signals we are getting from other people, animals, and our environment all the time. It means understanding our natural selves and the natural world, and acknowledging our interdependence with that world.” (from “Be the Pack Leader.”)

There's nothing supernatural in all this. I'm a little confused by the use of "instinct" and "instinctual" here. Instinct is what gives us fight or flight, the search for food, the desire for sex, the avoidance of danger, etc. This paragraph seems to be more about what's often called "intuition." And intuition is being aware of hundreds of little signals that we are probably not consciously aware of. But the amazing human brain takes in all this sensory input and comes to very rapid conclusions if it has been taking in and storing data derived through experience. Paying close attention to our surroundings as a matter of course does yield response and instant analysis that can seem instinctual, in the way I think Paragardener is using the term.

Later in the post, there's this:

These philosophies are insufficient — they do not feed the instinctual side of human nature. We find ourselves a bunch of neurotics living in ugly places.

I don't know if I'm reading this right, but it seems to say that experiencing a spiritual world is instinctual. It's true that humans have searched for reasons for what was inexplicable before science came along and that they attributed events to gods or spirits. Is that instinctual? Maybe, but I don't see it as a virtue. I see it as ignorance, and as something that can stifle the urge to discover the real answers to "why?" (As for "a bunch of neurotics living in ugly places," I blame organized religion and government policy, for starters ...) And what about the artistic side of human nature? We've had cave art for tens of thousands of years; the need to make art is in us. There is something that calls us to beauty that has nothing to do with the spiritual, unless you define "spiritual" so broadly that it loses its meaning.

I also have to argue with Paragardener's apparent belief that studying botany and cell biology ruins one's appreciation of trees. The extrapolation would be that learning science banishes the mystical and mysterious. If the mystical is non-existent, then banishing it isn't a bad thing, at least if you value truth over superstition. And I don't find that it ruins the sense of mystery I feel when I walk in a forest. I, too, see trees as sinister or welcoming, but that's because of my imagination. A little poetry or music or just listening to the wind in the trees and I don't need the fiction of a spirit world to feel wonder and oneness with nature.

Nor do I think that psychedelic drugs, yoga, meditation, or certain kinds of music complete with light shows connects us to another world. They work on the mind, that astounding organ we are learning more about every day. I'm not saying that they don't open us up to different experiences or ways of experiencing--I'm just arguing that said experiences don't necessarily betoken accessing a spirit world.

I don't know to what extent I'm a materialist or a positivist--I'm not even sure what those words mean, although I can guess. I do know that disbelief in spirits does not consign a person to a bleak world of surface meaning only or to purely utilitarian ways of responding to the world or to valuing the material over such things as love, response to art, feelings of connectedness, and a sense of awe. It's not as if I've never explored the spiritual possibilities; I have. But I feel now that this world is quite enough, if we have the eyes to see it.  I don't need magic. But I need to be open to beauty, love, compassion, and the knowledge that all life on this planet is indeed, as Paragardener says, interdependent.

The universe is vast, even the part of it we can see with the naked eye in the night sky. That I'm temporarily a part of it is quite magic enough.

Rainbow!

And what a rainbow! It was huge, it was incredibly bright, and it was a double, even (though faint) at the top of the arch. I don't think we've ever seen a rainbow quite so brilliant.

Note the second rainbow left of the "main" one. I've been told that the double is a reflection of the actual rainbow, and sure enough, you can see that the order of the color bands is reversed in the reflection.

 

 

 

 

 

Japan: Before and after

The New York Times has put up satellite photos of Japan before and after the tsunami. They're horrifying.

Last week's snow

This is very tardy, since we didn't get our photos downloaded in a timely fashion. But these are a few photos of last week's snow, which amounted to close to a foot. It was difficult to measure because of drifting.

Those are rabbit tracks in the snow on our front porch. Notice how the drift curls at the top, reminiscent of a wave.

 

Still snowing. The drift blocked the exit from the porch.

 

James shoveled a path through the snow on the front porch before he could even think about the sidewalk and driveway. 
 

 

Was that a Big Cat I heard?

Recently I was recounting for the umpteenth time how, on a warm night that necessitated an open bedroom window, I heard a scream that made my hair stand on end. It sounded human--like somebody being murdered, and that's no exaggeration--but two or three more screams showed whatever it was to be moving away. I didn't know what it was, but my heart was pounding, and it was hard to get back to sleep. (I first wrote about it here--scroll down.)

Hannah was part of the conversation--well, okay, it was more like a monologue on my part, so she was part of the audience--and after she got home from a visit to our place, she sent me some links to news articles that made me think I may actually have heard a large cat, possibly a cougar (also known as puma, mountain lion, catamount, and panther).

 There's a lot of controversy about cougars in Michigan, with the Department of Natural Resources taking the stand that any cougars in the state are likely escaped pets, while many Michiganders swear they've seen the big cats--too many sightings to be merely escaped pets. Some people accuse the DNR of refusing to look for the cats because, as an endangered species in the state, resources would have to be devoted to this animal. The DNR maintains that it has not seen a corpse nor evidence of any breeding cougars; some residents have stated that they have indeed seen kittens.

One thing is certain: DNA analysis of scat and of hair and blood have proven the existence of some cougars in the state. But, as I said, the DNR believes that the only cougars in the state are illegally owned pets that have made their getaway.

But there are plenty of reported sightings. Last February,

That was made plain Thursday at a Senate Agriculture and Bioeconomy Committee hearing called by chairman Gerald Van Woerkom, R-Muskegon.

He wants to know why the Department of Natural Resources won't acknowledge that there seems to be a breeding population of cougars, and why the agency won't live up to its mandate under the state Endangered Species Act to study and try to protect them.

* * * * *

After hearing from witnesses who ranged from scientists to veterinarians to regular folks, Van Woerkom said every member of his committee is convinced that these people didn't see dogs or house cats but saw real cougars that in some cases had to be breeding.

"When reliable people tell you they saw a cougar with kittens, that's pretty good evidence," Van Woerkom said. "I've been bringing this up with the DNR for three or four years and they just kind of blow it off, saying we have no physical evidence. But that's not true. We have physical evidence, and it looks like (cougars) stretch from Lake Michigan to Lake Huron.

A few cougars, however, do not constitute a breeding population, and the DNR claims that no scientific evidence exists for that. 

Both Michigan Citizens for Cougar Recognition and Save the Cougar.org list purported sightings, sightings of kittens, news items concerning cougars, and stories by those who say they have seen cougars.

I'm willing to believe that there is a breeding population of cougars, particularly a possibility in the Upper Peninsula, but some of the sightings/stories are probably bogus, too, knowing how easy it is for people to see what they want to see. (Also, when you read that what's been reported as a cougar sometimes turns out to be a coyote, it tends to make you agnostic on the issue.)

Could I have heard a cougar that night? This is similar to what I heard, although the animal was much, much closer than it sounds in the video:

 

On the other hand, I didn't know that foxes screamed, and we have our share of those, too:

 

I'm looking for a better quality audio clip for the cougar scream, which I'll post if and when I come across one. Meanwhile, I do think it's possible that I heard a cougar that night. Nothing else I've come across on the Internet seems like as good a match.

 

Barred owl

Last week we were driving around, looking at the beautiful effects of an ice fog, when James spotted a barred owl on a pole. It's the first one I can remember seeing. (Do follow the link and click on the sound--there's a reason it's also called a hoot owl!)

The case of the curious deer

The other morning we watched as a deer stalked "our" cranes--the ones that return to nest here each year. As you can see, this year's two colts both survived. Anyway, the deer followed these cranes around for a bit, walking up a dirt mound where one had settled, then following it down off the mound as it rejoined the group.

The deer just seemed to be curious about these large birds. Or maybe he/she just wanted to say hi.(Click on photo for a larger picture.)

Now that's a collision!

The first high-speed collision of large, intact spacecraft occured yesterday:

Two big communications satellites collided in the first-ever crash of its kind in orbit, shooting out a pair of massive debris clouds and posing a slight risk to the international space station. NASA said it will take weeks to determine the full magnitude of the crash, which occurred nearly 500 miles over Siberia on Tuesday.

How big was the collision? Via TocqueDeville's diary on Kos, we learn from a Discover blog that given the sizes, speeds, and angles of the Iridium and Cosmos satellites,

the explosion resulting from the energy of impact would have been about the same as detonating 5 tons of TNT.

That’s a lot. It’s easily enough to totally destroy both satellites, and in fact the U.S. Space Surveillance Network has detected a substantial amount of debris, at least 600 pieces.

At the moment, that debris is expanding in a cloud, and is still too high to threaten the space station which orbits at less than half the height where the satellites collided… but eventually the debris will pass through the altitude of the ISS. It’s not clear yet how much danger the station is in. Satellites in similar orbits as the two that hit are in the most immediate danger, but again it’s unclear what will happen.

You'll be relieved to know that despite Mr. Plait's concerns (above quotation), the risk to the space station (with three astronauts aboard) is believed to be low, and that the collision is not thought to present a danger to the space shuttle set to launch February 22 with seven astronauts.

But it's been predicted for years that such a collision was inevitable. Worse, scientists have been worried about the cascade effect of space debris and space collisions: more debris means more collisions, and more collisions mean more debris ... you get the idea. Check out this site for illustrations of the space debris problem and more detailed information on just how much junk is out there.

Too much debris makes space exploration riskier and riskier, and even threatens satellite communications. Mitigation measures have been proposed (see above link); without them, conditions in space will only worsen in regard to collisions and space junk.

That was one hell of an explosion, and I hope there's some follow-up in the news at some point as to just how much debris was generated and how much of a threat it poses. The world depends a great deal on satellite communications, and seeing the danger of just letting space debris accumulate illustrated in this dramatic way should (should, but may not) cause scientists--and communications companies--to give the matter some serious thought.

 

It's that time again: the GBBC

All winter long we enjoy watching the birds that come to our feeder, from the black-capped chickadees to the redbellied woodpeckers. And now it's time for the Great Backyard Bird Count, which is this weekend, February 13-16. It's easy to participate and requires only a little of your time--as little as 15 minutes. Of course, you can birdwatch for longer than that, and you can count birds on more than one day and in more than one place. Get all the details here. You can download a tally sheet to keep track of the species, but then you simply enter your data on-line. And here's a nifty poster that you can print out or e-mail to fellow birders.

Why should you participate? Because each checklist contributes valuable information about such things as distribution of species and migratory patterns:

In 2008, GBBC participants documented the huge southward movement of northern finches from Canada, as well as the expanding ranges of the Eurasian Collared Dove and the Redbellied Woodpecker. Northern Bobwhite and Eastern Meadowlark  numbers continue to decline. Some species showed up in GBBC reports for the very first time.

Indeed, the Audubon Society just released a report showing that climate change is affecting bird populations. (Sorry, I couldn't get the link to open for me; the name of the report is Birds and Climate Change: Ecological Disruption in Motion.) The AP did a story on it here.

When it comes to global warming, the canary in the coal mine isn't a canary at all. It's a purple finch.

As the temperature across the U.S. has gotten warmer, the purple finch has been spending its winters more than 400 miles farther north than it used to.

And it's not alone.

An Audubon Society study to be released Tuesday found that more than half of 305 birds species in North America, a hodgepodge that includes robins, gulls, chickadees and owls, are spending the winter about 35 miles farther north than they did 40 years ago.

The purple finch was the biggest northward mover. Its wintering grounds are now more along the latitude of Milwaukee, Wis., instead of Springfield, Mo.

Bird ranges can expand and shift for many reasons, among them urban sprawl, deforestation and the supplemental diet provided by backyard feeders. But researchers say the only explanation for why so many birds over such a broad area are wintering in more northern locales is global warming.

You can be part of documenting these changes, and it's easy and fun--and a great activity for kids. The GBBC site can even help you learn to identify species. Browse the site to see what it offers (including some great photos by last year's participants), but do plan to spend just fifteen minutes of your time this weekend helping scientists and conservationists understand the changes bird populations are experiencing--and what that might say about environmental and climate change as well. 

 

Natural science

Anya's an avid bug collector (catch-and-release, mostly), so she availed herself of the sweep net during her visit last weekend. She even rescued a grasshopper from the swimming pool.

Her mom and little brother look on.

Tristan wanted a turn, too.

Checking out the captive.

She caught several kinds of grasshoppers, identifying each one with the help of our insect field guide. Kids really are natural scientists.

We also happened to trap a raccoon, which delighted the kids. Even their mom went along for its release in an undisclosed location. Unfortunately, our trap got a workout this summer: seven groundhogs, two raccoons, and a possum. The raccoons destroyed our corn, and as usual, the groundhogs got our broccoli.

You just can't beat an outdoor laboratory.