Selective Brain Damage Modulates Human Groovyness, Research Reveals

And a lead sentence that reads:

New research provides fascinating insight into brain changes that might underlie alterations in feeling groovy and and hip attitudes.

My guess is that most people would (or should) react this way: “What?!”

How different, I ask, is the following title and lead sentence to an actual bit of news reporting:

Selective Brain Damage Modulates Human Spirituality, Research Reveals

New research provides fascinating insight into brain changes that might underlie alterations in spiritual and religious attitudes.

Here’s the problem: most people only assume they know what is meant by the term spirituality. Yet ask people to define it, and the responses will be as diverse and vague as they would be to a request for a definition of “groovyness.”

Although it is a popular word, spirituality is a lousy variable. Strong science and strong science writing gets specific, and the term spirituality is not.

Technorati Links: research, spirituality

After the break, a real alligator story with teeth . . . . Local humane society worker saves furry friends from sad end . . . .

Egads.

My peeve has motivated me to start a series of awards I’ll call not the Tonys but “the Groanys.” The criteria for nomination: science writing so pathetic it makes you groan, boom, it’s in the running for the year-end awards that will be determined by reader vote.

If you encounter anything Groany-worthy, please feel free to nominate it by sending it my way. I’m going to stick to science writing because that’s what I read the most, and because that’s where I find the use of dumb writing most egregious.

THE GROANYS: RECOGNIZING EXCELLENCE IN STUPID SCIENCE WRITING SINCE FEBRUARY, 2010

The get things going, here is the first nomination . . . . drum roll please . . . this headline discovered yesterday over at ScienceDaily:

‘Zen’ Bats Hit Their Target by Not Aiming at It

Groan. Zen bats?! Oh please. Those bats are so enlightened, the fly by cosmic intuition. What, did the writer think that if you add “Zen” to anything it automatically makes it more mysterious and interesting?

And actually, the title is misleading: the bats do indeed aim. But what they do — that info buried down in the prose beneath the bogus intro, in the real science part — is alternately aim their echolocation “sound beam” to one side of their target and then the other. This helps them to better gauge “change in the relative position of the target to the bat.”

What the hell does Zen have to do with that? It seems quite advanced and strategic to me. Is that Zen? Here’s the Google dictionary definition of the term:

Zen or Zen Buddhism is a form of the Buddhist religion that concentrates on meditation rather than on studying religious writings.

And this element from Wikipedia:

Zen emphasizes experiential prajña-, particularly as realized in the form of meditation, in the attainment of enlightenment. As such, it de-emphasizes theoretical knowledge in favor of direct, experiential realization through meditation and dharma practice.

Hmm. Maybe the bats do their meditating while hanging upside down. But not in a full-lotus position. And maybe they contemplate the meaning of this koan: What is the sound of one wing flapping?

Such a shame. Interesting science news belittled with a stupid headline. What can you do but groan?

Nominate it for an award! Officially recognize the stupidity and draw attention to it.

Care to join me in celebrating lame writing in the sciences?

Technorati Links: science writing

Scientists Show How Brain Tumors Outsmart Drugs

I didn’t know tumors had brains. How else could they outsmart drugs?

Am I being too literal? I certainly don’t shy away from using metaphoric language myself. See this very post for examples. (Can headlines be stupid? Can you really get a thorn in your intellect?)

I think what is at issue is the propensity for some science writers to personify (make willful agents of) elements of nature and thus make them more appealing to human social instincts. While in many cases this can be a harmless practice, my concern is that by catering to these instincts we contribute to a misunderstanding of the universe.

So how is my use of metaphorical language different, if it is? First, degree of separation. I am not introducing supposedly hard science to the world, via a news release. My blog posts are further downstream — to once again resort to metaphoric language. And when writing about the actual science, as opposed to my analysis of it, I try to shy away from potentially misleading use of metaphor.

No, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to hit the road.

Damn, it’s just so easy to resort to figures of speech.

Technorati Links: science, writing

I hope books never go the way of the Dodo. And by “books” I mean the paper-and-ink variety.

Okay, maybe I’m being like the sentimentalist from a century ago. “I’ve had such memorable, pleasant experiences with the horse-and-buggy mode of transportation that I sincerely hope it isn’t completely replaced by that foreign automobile thing.”

In terms of cultural evolution, is the book all that different from the horse-and-buggy? I don’t know if it is.

Admittedly, I’ve yet to hold a Kindle in my hands. It doesn’t have an internal combustion engine, but still. The experience of reading . . . a book . . . with it will be quite different, I imagine.

Speaking of pulp-flesh and ink-blood books, Dawkins’ recent rather hefty one, The Greatest Show on Earth: The Evidence for Evolution, has a rather pleasant poetic vein running through it. Dawkins can craft a hell-of-a sentence. His prose is both erudite and supple. Consider these snippets from the book (gathered via a very quick flip-through):

“What delayed humanity’s tumbling to that luminously simple idea . . . ” (p. 21)

“For the mind encased in Platonic blinkers, a rabbit is a rabbit is a rabbit.” p. 23

“Presumably genes for floppy ears and piebald coats are pleotropically linked to genes for tameness, in foxes as well as in dogs.” p. 76

“The human body abounds with what, in one sense, we could call imperfections but, in another sense, should be seen as inescapable compromises resulting from our long ancestral history of descent from other kinds of animals.” p.365

I don’t know if Dawkins’ latest book is destined to will become a classic, but it does merit wide readership. The many pages of full-color illustrations are reason enough to consider adding the book to your library.

Library . . . is that another Dodo?

Technorati Links: books, evolution

The article, Want to convince? Use abstract rather than concrete language, shared a few interesting findings. First, and in general, when word-of-mouth recommendations for products is expressed in more abstract terms than concrete (specific), consumers find them more persuasive. Concrete attributes and experiences, it seems, are easier to perceive as limited characteristics, not representative of the whole, so to speak.

As I have argued time and again, good science relies upon precision and specificity — both in the practice of the science AND the communication of it. Diligent scientists and science writers “dot their ‘I‘s and cross their ‘T‘s;” they share the nitty-gritty about how they conducted their study and they disclose the results without exaggeration or obfuscation. They are exact.

Is it possible that this is why “selling science” to the general public is difficult? Could be. I also wonder whether abstract/general talk and writing is looser, in a sense, providing more wiggle room for people to inject meaning into. Something like an astrological profile. When those get too specific, too concrete, they lose their appeal. (With less broad verbal strokes, the limits are easier to see.)

So what does this all mean? Should we change the way we talk about science? Should we water it down and speak in generalities? Maybe. Maybe in some situations. But as a past educator and a person who feels strongly about education, my hunch is that we might be able to educate young minds to understand science better and find its precision more persuasive then the sloppier language of sales pitches.

One can hope.

Technorati Links: language, psychology, science

Self-control is contagious, study finds

But yes, it is so: the self is a largely social phenomenon, in terms of its development and function.

In a just-published series of studies involving hundreds of volunteers, researchers have found that watching or even thinking about someone with good self-control makes others more likely exert self-control.

I guess one could say that self-control here refers to the control of the self, vs. the self in control. So maybe it isn’t oxymoronic. Still, the point is the same. The self doesn’t exist and function in isolation.

As to the study results, the lead author speculates about the mechanisms involved.

VanDellen said this finding suggests that self-control is contagious because being exposed to people with either good or bad self-control influences how accessible thoughts about self-control are.

“Contagious” . . . I don’t know about that. Anyway, might a person say, then, that being exposed to controlled others “primes” the parts of our brains that help us practice restraint? Might a person further say that the self is a dynamic thing, that both acts on and influences the world (particularly social environments), just as the world acts on and influences it?

Back to the title — In a universe of perfect linguistics, I wouldn’t use “thing” to describe the self. But then, what is it? Damn the limits of vocabulary!

Technorati Links: social psychology

Two bits of research on words and how we use them caught my attention this past week.

1. Carnegie Mellon scientists crack brain’s codes for noun meanings

Noun meanings? We have dictionaries for that, don’t we? Yes, but what the researchers we’re looking at was the neurological equivalent of the overt meaning.

By combining brain imaging and machine learning techniques, neuroscientists Marcel Just and Vladimir Cherkassky and computer scientists Tom Mitchell and Sandesh Aryal determined how the brain arranges noun representations.

A couple decades ago I studied cognition and emotion in grad school. Since then I have realized that “thoughts” can be better understood not as single elements in the brain, but as schemata, each with a number of varied elements, only some of them conscious: semantic, emotional, social, even kinesthetic (relating to movement). For example, one person’s schema for “dog” could have elements including the intellectual element of “creature with four legs and a tail”; the emotional element of a happy anticipation of interacting with it; and a kinesthetic component of “petting motion.”

When struggling to retrieve a word we know — darn, it’s on the tip of my tongue! — we will sometimes successfully access it via one part of the schema, on other times via another. Give me a synonym….Nope, still can’t remember. What about a word that rhymes with it? Maybe if I go through the motions of saying it — it begins with a “b,” I think….buh….buh…buh…? No luck.

The researchers into this brain “code” were able to discover how types of words activated disparate areas of the brain.

In the case of hammer, the motor cortex was the brain area activated to code the physical interaction. “To the brain, a key part of the meaning of hammer is how you hold it, and it is the sensory-motor cortex that represents ‘hammer holding,’” said Cherkassky, who has a background in both computer science and neuroscience. [bold mine]

Interesting.

2. Words used to describe substance-use patients can alter attitudes, contribute to stigma.

The schema elements that conventionally come along with a word are important, whether or not we intend that all of those elements be in play.

The authors of this second study mention that we refer to people with “food issues” as having an “eating disorder” and not as “food abusers.” Their study focused on people with alcohol and drug “issues,” and how the words used to label/describe them makes a difference. How? By changing the schema, different elements are activated.

Changing the words used to describe someone struggling with alcoholism or drug addiction may significantly alter the attitudes of health care professionals, even those who specialize in addiction treatment.

“We found that referring to someone with the ‘abuser’ terminology evokes more punitive attitudes than does describing that person’s situation in exactly the same words except for using ‘disorder’ terminology,” says John F. Kelly, PhD, associate director of the MGH Center for Addiction Medicine, who led the study. “Reducing the use of such stigmatizing terms could help diminish the shame, guilt and embarrassment that act as barriers, keeping people from seeking help.”

So, by using a different term than substance abuser, people with a “substance disorder” will likely think/feel/act differently themselves. As will the helping professionals think/feel/act differently about their patients.

Words are important. Word choice is important. I guess this second bit of research helps me to understand the desire people have for finding an alternative term to atheist. As easy as it is for me to focus on the purely intellectual aspects of the schema for that word, for other people the most active elements are social/emotional components that could be described as, “God abuser” and “threat to society.” So perhaps it really would be better to switch to another term altogether. One with more positive elements, maybe starting with, but not limited to “caring, reality-embracer.”  Or something.

Hmm.

Technorati Links: language, psychology

The following “science article” found at ScienceDaily just about made me slap my head in disapproval and disappointment. In fact, I did scribble oy vey! in the margin (and I’m not even Jewish). As a voluntary member of the language police, I had my sirens wailing.

Partners Sculpt Each Other to Achieve Their Ideal Selves: If Successful, Relationship Goes Well

A new international review of seven papers on “the Michelangelo phenomenon” shows that when close partners affirm and support each other’s ideal selves, they and the relationship benefit greatly.

While vague/general terms can have sexy connotations they are a poor choice for the truly scientific. Sure, it is nearly impossible to avoid dropping one into a sentence here and there, but when an article is chock full of them, can you really call it science? I can’t.

Is this science, or something you’d expect to find in the self-help section of a book store?

The Michelangelo studies show that close partners sculpt one another’s traits and skills and promote, versus inhibit, one another’s goal achievement. “It’s not just that you treat me positively,” Finkel said. “You treat me in particular ways that dovetail with my ideal self.”

That’s how Sara, an outgoing person with a great social network, brought Bob’s best out in him. Sara made Bob more comfortable being the person he wanted to be. With Sara celebrating his ideal self, he became much funnier.

What is “sculpting”? What is the “ideal self”? Methinks the authors are talking over the finer-grained psychological truth, the more precise social, cognitive, emotional, and biological mechanisms involved.

There is a place for appealing yet vague/general/abstract terms. That place is in astrological forecasts. In their lack of precision, vague terms allow too much room for the bogus to be injected.

Technorati Links: language, science

Tropical Birds Waited for Land Crossing Between North and South America, Study Finds

Perhaps my eye is nit-picking in this case. You be the judge. Here’s the wording of the claim:

Despite their ability to fly, tropical birds waited until the formation of the land bridge between North and South America to move northward, according to a University of British Columbia study published this week in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences.

Okay, good science writing ain’t easy. The number of words at our disposal is finite, after all. But the question remains, is wait the best word to describe what the birds did? Doesn’t wait imply a knowledge of the something being waited for? If so, how did the birds know a land bridge would form?

How would you word what the birds did? Keep in mind that you are writing about science.

Technorati Links: birds, writing

There may be a ‘party’ in your genes

Oh no they di – int!

Is that good science writing or stupid? You can guess my vote.

But wait. Maybe it’s not as bad as first comes across. The first sentence helps to explain, if not excuse, the silly word play:

Genetics play a pivotal role in shaping how individual’s identify with political parties , according to an article in a recent issue of Political Research Quarterly, the official journal of the Western Political Science Association.

Still.

Technorati Links: science, writing