Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Dr. Evil and the Big Lie

This isn't the post I want to write today. I want to write about the "religious freedom" bills that have been emerging in states around the country. I see these bills as yet another instance of what I rail against most in this blog--people doing hurtful things based on unproven religious beliefs.* But I've written post after post on that topic, and there's no sense in rehashing the same arguments again. So, I'm going to write what I don't feel like writing about. It's something I need to remind myself about, because it's hard for me to remember right now.

The thing is, most people I don't agree with--even most people I see as doing very hurtful things--don't do them because they're bad people. I know, crazy, right? It's easy, and even perversely comforting, to think our ideological opponents are simply bad. This way of thinking is so common, and so harmful, that I've started thinking of it as The Big Lie.

We like to think life is like a Hollywood movie, where there are good guys and there are bad guys (some people in law enforcement and the military actually use this terminology.) We like to think actual villains are common. What I mean by "villain" is a person who is bad, knows he's bad, and does what he does because it's bad. Think Dr. Evil; the kind of guy who revels in his own badness. But Dr. Evil is a caricature. Hardly anybody is really like that (though the phenomenon of the internet troll has convinced me a few are.) The fact is, many people--even the ones doing serious harm--do what they do because they think it's the right thing to do.**

Take the people currently proposing laws that would allow discrimination against gays on the basis of religion. My knee-jerk reaction is to see those people as Dr. Evils--as doing it just to hurt somebody. But my knee-jerk reaction is wrong. Some do just want to hurt people, but most are proposing such laws because they truly think they're morally right. They believe that refusing to participate in a gay wedding, or perhaps even refusing to serve a gay person at all, makes them a better person. That's hard for a liberal like me to process, but it is how they see it.

And here's the thing: it's hard for them to process the fact that we're trying to do what's right. They're just like us that way--if they're not careful, they'll start thinking we're simply bad people who like doing bad things. They'll start thinking of us as Dr. Evil. How many times have you heard conservatives say that liberals want to see the United States fail, or that they support abortion because they like the idea of killing babies? We know better, but it happens all the time. But then, it's also common for us to say the same things about them: that people who don't agree with gay marriage must hate gays, or that pro-lifers are motivated by a desire to oppress women. Yes, there are some haters and oppressors, but the fact is that most of them are motivated by things other than hate and oppression.

However counter-intuitive this may be, it's true, and it's not helpful to pretend it isn't. First, the Dr. Evil view is simply an inaccurate view of reality. Take pro-lifers, for example. If someone actually thinks each life is created by God and begins at conception, and that is their motivation for being pro-life, then it doesn't serve any purpose to claim they're motivated to keep women down. It's much more helpful to understand people's actual motivations than their imagined ones. (Some people seem to think understanding equates to approval, but that's just silly). Second, the Dr. Evil view of the other side perpetuates the nastiness of the culture wars we're seeing in this country, and has been the root of many of the wars throughout history. It's a very, very destructive impulse.

When we understand that most people on the other side are trying to do the right thing, it lets us see them in a more positive light, and maintain a little more empathy for them. It also means the situation isn't as hopeless as we may have thought, because we have common ground with those on the other side. We both, for the most part, want to do the right thing. How about that--something we actually agree on!

What we don't agree upon, unfortunately, is what the right thing to do actually is. That's where we need dialogue. If we mostly want what's right, then let's talk about what that might be. What doesn't need to happen is more demonization and name-calling. If we don't want them calling us evil, we need to stop calling them evil. The problem isn't that people on the other side are bad. The problem is that it's so hard to figure out and agree upon what's actually good.

And that is a great big horrible problem. The sad fact is, many of the worst things people have ever done to each other have been a result of trying to do what's right, not what's wrong. But that's a topic for another post. For now, let's focus on the fact that The Big Lie really is a lie. Dr. Evils are rare, and most people aren't trying to be bad. They're trying to be good, and that's very good news.

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* I've realized lately that what bothers me isn't the target of this hurtfulness--gays are the currently preferred target, but there have been many others throughout history. What bothers me is the rationale--people basically saying "What you are doing is wrong, because this one particular ancient book says it's wrong." Some people will think I'm evil for saying that.

** At the very least, they convince themselves that what they're doing is justified. Even complete sociopaths like Pablo Escobar spend a lot of energy explaining their actions. If you read Mark Bowden's book Killing Pablo, you realize Escobar thought of himself as a great guy who was just misunderstood. This is a man who would kick handcuffed people to the bottom of pools, and once blew up an airliner because he wanted one person on it dead.


Wednesday, March 11, 2015

The Girl Who Found a Dinosaur

Allosaurus and Stegosaurus at DMNS. Click for photo credit.
"Wow...," she said. "Wow...wow...wow..." I was at the Denver Museum of Nature and Science, and the little voice was coming from the other side of the Stegosaurus. I looked around it and saw a little girl around four years old. She was gazing up at the Allosaurus (the toothy gray dinosaur on the left) and seemed to have slipped into a kind of dinosaur-induced rapture.

I wanted to tell her what I had just read on the plaque in front of the display: that the dinosaur she was so impressed by had been discovered by a young girl. But I thought her parents might look askance at a stranger talking to their little girl, so I just smiled and moved along. Maybe I should have showed the plaque to them.

When I got back home, I looked up the story of the girl and the Allosaurus. In 1979, a thirteen-year-old girl named India Wood was visiting a family ranch in the plateau country of western Colorado, near Dinosaur National Monument. She had been finding fossils there since she was 8 years old, but this time she found a dinosaur bone sticking out of a hillside.

Naturally, she started digging it out. And she kept digging over the next three summers; stashing the bones under her bed back in Colorado Springs. In 1982 her mother convinced her to contact the museum in Denver. The curator, Don Lindsey, drove down to Colorado Springs, and was amazed when the 17-year-old started pulling gorgeously preserved dinosaur bones out from under her bed. Knowing talent when he saw it, he hired India as a field assistant to help him dig out the rest of the great beast's bones. They were stored in a back room for several years, but in the early '90's the Allosaurus was mounted next to its old foe Stegosaurus, which had been found decades before in Canon City, Colorado.

In a People article from 1984, India said she wanted to go into paleontology. Later on, she became more interested in other fields, so she went to Dartmouth and studied English Literature. She went on to get an MBA from MIT, and today she owns a business research firm in Boulder. I don't know if she ever wishes she had become a paleontologist, but I'm guessing she would have been continued to be great at it.

As for the little girl at the museum, I hope somebody tells her India Wood's story. Who knows, maybe it will inspire her to go out and find her own dinosaur.

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India Wood Makes No Bones About It: Her Colorado Dinosaur Find is a Real Monster

Allosaur Find, Nearly Thirty Years Later

Paleontology: Discovering the Ancient History of the American West


Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Of God and Snowflakes

Yesterday, as I walked to work, I looked down and noticed some unusually perfect snowflakes falling on the sleeve of my coat. More of them kept landing as I watched, each one a tiny little geometric marvel. So, of course, I took out my cell phone camera and tried to take a picture. And of course, that's the moment a coworker walked by and looked at me like you would look at a person standing in the middle of the sidewalk taking pictures of their sleeve.

The pictures aren't even any good, so I'll post one by somebody who knows what he's doing. I urge you to stop for a second and really look at it. Gaze into it like a mandala. It's worth a few seconds, I swear.

Photo by Alexey Kljatov. Click for more incredible images.

Incredible, isn't it? Some of the pictures on the photographer's page literally made me gasp. The snowflakes falling on my coat sleeve yesterday would have been equally stunning and varied if I could have looked closely enough. And now they're gone, just like the one in this picture.

What struck me as I watched them fall on my sleeve is this: We live in a universe where objects with this kind of breathtaking beauty are created spontaneously out of air and water, and fall by the billions all around us. What does that say about the universe?

Throughout most of history (and even possibly today) most people would say that God crafts each snowflake individually. I certainly understand seeing the divine in a snowflake, but we actually know God doesn't create them one by one. The physics of snowflake formation is well-understood--it really does happen spontaneously, through a combination of randomness and physical law. Snowflakes, at least in the immediate sense, have no designer.

If that's true--if the stunning order of a snowflake is such an easy trick for nature--why is it so hard for people to believe that more complex things, like whale sharks, diatoms, or snow leopards, could have been built by natural law? After all, nobody claims these things appeared overnight like snowflakes. They claim they evolved over eons; over periods of time that are to us as we are to a snowflake on a stove. If a few minutes in this universe can create a snowflake, what can a few million centuries create?

"Yes, but..." you may say, "what made such a creative universe in the first place?" It's a fair question. Maybe God didn't create snowflakes or snow leopards in the immediate sense, but he did create a universe capable of creating them. That might actually be more impressive, if you think about it. Maybe that's what happened, and maybe it isn't. Maybe creative universes like ours are strewn forth like snowflakes in some kind of multiverse, based on nothing but the laws of nature (in the broadest sense of "nature"). We just don't know.

Personally, I don't think it's a good idea to assume that God, if he exists, designed this creative universe. It turned out that he didn't design each snowflake, or each rattlesnake, so it's quite conceivable that he didn't create the universe as a whole. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer pointed out, a "God of the Gaps" is as problematic theologically as scientifically. The problem with seeing God in the gaps in our knowledge is that those gaps are rapidly shrinking. Each time a gap closes, you lose a little bit of that God. If I understand Bonhoeffer correctly, he thought it was far better to keep seeing God in what we already understand than consign him to what we don't. It seems like a good point to me, though I'm not sure God exists at all.

Whether he does or not, we still live in a universe that creates order and beauty so easily it's disposable. Most snowflakes melt away before anybody ever sees how beautiful they are, but the universe creates them anyway. It created them before there were people, and it will likely create them long after we're gone. It happens spontaneously. That's why it's not at all hard for me to believe that same universe created life spontaneously; just over a far, far longer timescale than a snowflake. Maybe God created the creative force itself, and maybe he didn't. Either way, it's glorious. God didn't handcraft that particular snowflake in the picture, but it's beautiful all the same.