Abominable Science
Page 39
• Be open to criticism: All scientists must acknowledge that peer review is a harsh process that bruises the ego and can be biased or unfair at times. But good scientists have a thick skin, a strong sense of the merits of their research, a desire to improve their methods or look for better approaches, and the will to persevere to get their best work published. Such peer criticism is essential because it guarantees that only the best scientific work eventually is published. When, in the face of criticism, cryptozoologists claim that scientists are not open-minded about their ideas and then retreat to their own comfort zones, they are doing themselves a disservice. If they accepted the criticism as a call to base their work on hard evidence and to meet the other standards of scientific research, they would find that the scientific community is remarkably receptive to publishing unconventional ideas.
• Be skeptical of their own data: Good scientists must be skeptical of their own work as well as that of others. They have to be willing to toss out data or results if they are not good enough to support their hypotheses. As Richard Feynman said, “The first principle is that you must not fool yourself—and you are the easiest person to fool.” If cryptozoologists want to be taken seriously, they must undertake the hard task of weeding out the questionable sightings and inconclusive photographs and videos of cryptids; be more careful in their scholarship about what eyewitnesses actually said; and be honest when their preferred ideas are not supported by the facts.
WHY DOES CRYPTOZOOLOGY MATTER?
There is no solid evidence that any of the cryptids discussed in this book exist and much evidence that their existence is extremely unlikely. Nevertheless, a large number of people continue to believe that they are real, no matter how much evidence to the contrary is accumulated and how often the stories of sightings are debunked.
People are entitled to believe whatever they wish. As Michael Shermer has shown, such beliefs can serve a function in the human psyche, allowing people a sense of the mysterious and the magical and an escape from mundane reality.104 In prescientific times, the myths about monsters bound the members of society by a set of shared beliefs and values. Similarly, Bigfoot hunters derive a sense of satisfaction, community, and purpose from their wanderings in the woods, even if every attempt to find their cryptid has failed. Like members of other subcultures (including the skeptical subculture in which the authors of this book participate), Bigfooters enjoy the camaraderie when they take part in Bigfoot conferences and buy Bigfoot merchandise.
But scientists do not have the option of accepting something on the basis of belief alone. Instead, they must follow the evidence and examine any source of data critically, from both the subjects’ and their own biases. Daniel Cohen, who writes about both science and the paranormal, addressed the hard reality of scientific endeavor: “It is genuinely exciting to believe in ghosts or flying saucers or the Abominable Snowman or the Lost Continent of Atlantis. Real science is nowhere near so thrilling, no matter how well it is presented. A rigorous logical approach to evidence is hard and restrictive; it destroys the beloved romantic myths and is going to be resented. It is a terrible day for a child when he discovers that Santa Claus does not exist, and adults are not much different.”105
You might ask: Why should we even care what cryptozoologists think? How are they doing society any harm? Whatever your personal feelings about cryptozoology, and whatever your assessment of the evidence for cryptids, the answer to this “harm” question may be less obvious than it appears. On the one hand, even if one or more cryptids exist, the field of cryptozoology could have social costs that cryptozoology enthusiasts discount (perhaps by eroding confidence in the methods of science or by tempting advocates into beliefs that damage their reputations). On the other hand, even if all beliefs in cryptids are uniformly mistaken, the field could have little social cost—or even a net benefit (perhaps by encouraging outdoor activity or inspiring interest in zoology). Before drawing hasty conclusions, it is worth considering these words of caution from psychologist Ray Hyman:
Why should we care? This question, in various guises, inevitably comes up in press conferences and in talks by skeptics. I vividly recall a press conference in the early days of CSICOP [Committee for the Scientific Investigation of Claims of the Paranormal]. A reporter asked why the group was so concerned about the growing belief in the paranormal. What harm does it do if someone believes that Uri Geller can bend a spoon with his mind? Besides, aren’t there more important problems to worry about, such as the population explosion, famine, the homeless, drugs, acid rain, nuclear proliferation, and so on?
Some of my colleagues immediately jumped in to defend the importance of their mission. One referred to the Jim Jones tragedy in Guyana. Another pointed out that belief in the paranormal made Hitler and Nazism possible. One skeptic stood up and dramatically announced that he had in his briefcase several suicide letters by young students who believed they would come back in better incarnations after their deaths.
To me such reflex reactions are no better than the pathetic arguments that be lievers make for the existence of poltergeists, prophetic dreams, ghosts, and the like. In no case could any of those skeptics’ assertions be backed up with anything resembling scientific evidence.
I believe we should be more careful about how we justify our concerns. We should not make rash claims or feel the necessity to sensationalize the possibilities.106
What are some plausible costs and consequences of cryptozoology? Or is that the wrong question? Hyman continued, “My own inclination is to admit that I do not know how to measure the amount of harm that comes from belief in the paranormal,” but he offered some reasons for scholars to concern themselves with the study of paranormal topics: some paranormal claims could turn out to be true, in which case they would be very important; whether they are true or not, the study of paranormal beliefs can lead us to important insights about the human mind and belief in general; and paranormal views that are based on “intuition and other nonscientific methods … known to induce compelling, but illusory, beliefs” shine a spotlight on the general dangers posed by the weakness of critical thinking skills and the lack of scientific literacy. After all, as Hyman warned, “If members of our society—including generals, business executives, and political leaders—develop their beliefs about the paranormal on such an illusory foundation, what does that tell us about how they are making decisions that affect the state of the world?”107
The authors of this book are divided in our assessment of the net consequences of cryptozoological beliefs and enthusiasms. Daniel Loxton is quite sympathetic to cryptozoology; Donald Prothero is much more critical.
Coming out of cryptozoology himself, Loxton is inclined to regard monster hunting—even in the permanent absence of any genuine cryptids—in much the same terms as The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’s description of Earth: “mostly harmless.” Unlike many of the paranormal topics that skeptics critique, cryptozoology does not ask adherents to reject the laws of physics, partake in unproved or disproved medical treatments, live in terror of alien invaders, or sell their possessions in anticipation of the end of the world. Cryptozoology is not terribly expensive for most people—no more, certainly, than hunting or fishing—and it offers the tangible benefits of any literary hobby or fan community. It encourages the development of skills of reading and historical investigation, and it brings enthusiasts together. Is cryptozoology so different in this respect from the skeptical subculture in which we two participate? As Loxton has put it, whether communities form around the love of Bigfoot or skepticism or model trains, “finding commonality with other human beings is a good in itself—an end in itself. Indeed, in respect to this particular end, the ‘skeptical’ part of the skeptical community is largely beside the point.”108 If fans of monsters find a similar commonality in their shared love of old microfilm and camping trips, is that really so bad? Furthermore, Loxton argues that the love of cryptozoological mysteries may offer some of the same educational benefits
that science advocates promote: love of the natural world and experience grappling with the nature of scientific evidence. Extrapolating from his own life experience, Loxton suspects that the cryptozoology literature may as easily and as often become a “gateway drug” for science literacy as it may be for attitudes of resistance to science:
Scientific skepticism turns a critical eye on paranormal and fringe science claims, so it’s usually framed by narratives of tension or conflict (as X-Files audiences will recall): either the stubborn, reductive skeptic versus the open-minded, intuitive believer; or, the responsible, science-based thinker versus the foolish kook.
But I have been both, and my experience did not fit into that story of conflict.
I was a believer in everything (a Fox Mulder if ever there was one!) who eventually became a “professional skeptic.” And yet, my life as a skeptical investigator is a seamless continuation from my paranormal enthusiasm: from inquisitive nerd with a passion for weird mysteries, to inquisitive nerd with a passion for weird mysteries. Nothing changed, except the information I had to work with.109
Loxton suggests three reasons why science-minded skeptics may wish to support the research of cryptozoologists in principle (or at least the freedom to pursue such research), even as they strenuously critique it in particulars:
• Echoing Hyman, there’s the off chance that cryptozoologists could be right. After all, the laws of physics do not have to be overturned in order for the Bigfoot hypothesis to be true—Bigfoot just has to be found. It is plausible on the face of it, although in our view exceedingly unlikely.
• Research into popular mysteries and paranormal beliefs provides a public good: satisfaction of the desire to have subjects of wide popular interest probed and examined. These fringe topics are typically neglected by mainstream scholarship; by studying and chronicling the paranormal, the most responsible writers perform a valuable public service. Indeed, when critical scholars do deign to investigate paranormal subjects, they inevitably build their investigations on top of preliminary work that was undertaken on the fringe. For that reason, as Gerald Durrell emphasized, cryptozoological footwork retains value even in the absence of any genuine cryptids:
Up to now most zoologists have treated the whole subject of sea-serpents, abominable snowmen and similar creatures as something that is not quite nice. It’s as though they feel there were some gigantic conspiracy afoot to undermine their ideas of what does and does not exist in the world. This attitude makes it extremely hard to get at the facts behind reports of these alleged creatures. Whether they exist or not, it was essential for someone to collect all the reports and sift them through for publication. If the animals do exist and are discovered, this book will prove a valuable piece of research. If, on the other hand, it is proved that they do not exist, the book loses none of its value, for it becomes an important contribution to zoological mythology.110
• Research into unconventional topics, such as the existence of Bigfoot, provides a barometer of the health of academic freedom. Indeed, such research is what academic freedom is designed to protect. By using that freedom to explore unorthodoxies, scholars who are sympathetic to cryptozoology or the paranormal provide a measure of insurance against academic dogma. As long as the quality and integrity of their work is strong, all of us are better served when scientists and other academics have the freedom to reexamine existing consensus views, dig deeper into unresolved mysteries, pursue long shots, or even waste their time flailing around on the fringes of science.
But is cryptozoology “mostly harmless,” as Loxton believes? For his part, Prothero is not so sure. Whatever the romantic appeal of monster mysteries, cryptozoology as it exists today is unquestionably a pseudoscience. None of the cryptids it purports to study have been demonstrated to exist; the reality of most is exceptionally unlikely; and some, like the Loch Ness monster of popular legend, can be definitively rejected as untrue.
Granted, cryptozoology is less obviously dangerous than are some other pseudoscientific claims, such as the discredited but fiercely promoted speculation that routine vaccinations cause autism or the assertion that HIV does not cause AIDS (a belief that has been calculated to have caused 365,000 premature deaths in South Africa alone).111 But aren’t these and other fringe topics unified by a common pattern of pseudoscientific thinking? Rather than merely wasting time and resources, the widespread acceptance of the reality of cryptids may feed into the general culture of ignorance, pseudoscience, and anti-science. The more the paranormal is touted by the media as acceptable and scientifically credible—rather than subjected to the harsh scrutiny of the scientific method, the rigor of critical thinking, and the demand for real evidence—the more people are made vulnerable to the predations of con artists, gurus, and cult leaders. The more the creationist cryptozoologists manage to damage the understanding of science, the worse off we all are.112
This is a serious problem in a culture where critical thinking is in short supply and basic science literacy is rare. Study after study over the years has shown that the American public has an abysmally poor understanding of how the world really works. For example, a national survey commissioned by the California Academy of Sciences in 2008 found that
• Only 53% of adults know how long it takes for the Earth to revolve around the Sun.
• Only 59% of adults know that the earliest humans and dinosaurs did not live at the same time.
• Only 47% of adults can roughly approximate the percent of the Earth’s surface that is covered by water.
• Only 21% of adults answered all three questions correctly.113
This level of understanding sounds almost too poor to believe, but it is consistent with the findings of many other surveys. In the United States, barely 50 percent of adults know that an electron is smaller than an atom.114 Most adults cannot define concepts like cell, molecule, or DNA. Only about 33 percent of adults agree that humans share more than half their genes with mice; only 38 percent of adults understand that humans share more than half their genes with chimpanzees.115 All but 16 percent agree that the center of Earth is very hot, but only 38 percent know that the Big Bang describes the early history of the universe.116 Moreover, a surprisingly large number of American adults still think that the sun revolves around Earth! These people are not limited to just those few dedicated advocates who actively promote geocentrism for religious reasons,117 but include a hefty 18 percent of the United States population at large. (The same misapprehension is held by similar numbers in Germany and the United Kingdom.)118 No one knows how many American adults literally believe that the Earth is flat, but they include a subset of creationists who promote a flat Earth for biblical reasons.119
Another way to frame the question is to ask how the United States stacks up against other countries. Scientific illiteracy is a global challenge, but the United States faces some obstacles to public understanding that are almost uniquely American, such as resistance to the fact of biological evolution. This particular struggle is especially relevant in the context of the impact of cryptozoology; as we have seen, cryptozoology is frequently employed by creationists to erode confidence in evolution. In a 2005 ranking of thirty-four industrialized countries published in the journal Science, the United States scored almost dead last, with a mere 40 percent of citizens accepting evolution. By comparison, the citizens of Iceland, Denmark, Sweden, and France were fully twice as likely to affirm that evolution is true. Only Turkey scored worse than the United States; countries like Italy, Hungary, and the Czech Republic left the United States far behind.120 In a closer comparison, Canadians are much more likely to accept evolution than are their American counterparts. Both the quality of evolution education and the level of public acceptance of evolution vary by province, but evolution is accepted by 58 percent of the population overall, with only 22 percent advocating creationism.121 In addition, Canadians generally respect the separation of church and state better than do Americans, since the fundamentalists are not so numerous or
powerful in their political system. In contrast, the Republican Party now follows a platform dictated largely by the fundamentalists in its political base, including planks that support creationism, ban abortion and stem-cell research, deny global warming, and ignore the limits of Earth’s resources in the face of population growth.
It is a matter for particular concern for Americans that students in the United States lag significantly behind those in many other industrialized nations in science literacy. In 2009, for example, the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA) of the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development found that among fifteen-year-olds, twenty-one countries scored higher in science literacy than the United States. At the top of the list were China and Finland, followed by (among others) Japan, New Zealand, Canada, Australia, the Netherlands, Germany, and the United Kingdom.122 Other rankings in recent years give similar results. Although the exact order of the top-ranked countries might be shuffled a bit, science literacy in the United States chronically falls behind that in many other nations, with a dismal twenty-ninth-place finish in the 2006 PISA rankings.123 Students in the United States even lag behind their counterparts in nations like Estonia and Slovenia that have a fraction of our wealth. That alone is a mark of disgrace for American society—that we spend so much money per child, and yet end up with such mediocre results. What does it say for the future economic well-being of the United States if it is outperformed by competitors such as China on such a crucial factor as understanding science? Innovation and scientific output are complex issues weaving many social and economic threads, but public understanding of science is a part of that tapestry.