The Angelina Jolie Test.

We can’t get by without belief. Every day we make hundreds of decisions in the belief that they will have a certain outcome; I turn the key in the ignition because I believe the engine will start; I drive to work in the belief the office will still be there; I put in a day’s work in the belief I’ll get paid at the end of the week, and so on. We could not function in society without such beliefs.

The centrality of belief is often used by the religious to argue for the necessity of a belief in god. We are believing creatures, they argue, it’s part of our nature. We all need belief in our lives, as the above examples illustrate.

Now, leaving aside the fact that the strength of a compulsion to believe a proposition has no bearing on the truth of the proposition believed, this line of reasoning errs in failing to make a very important distinction; the difference between belief and faith.

The difference is that belief is based upon evidence, whereas faith is our capacity to believe a proposition for which there is no evidential support. Even the examples I started with, though it may not be obvious, rely on evidence-based belief. I believe that the engine will start based on past experience and my understanding of mechanics. I believe that the office will be there based on my understanding of the material world and the durability of physical objects, and so on.

But, the faithful may argue, we can’t go through life only believing propositions for which there is evidence, (‘there’s more to life than evidence’). What about love, for example? You love someone, and believe they love you back. You don’t need evidence for that. And that gives me a lovely opportunity to illustrate the difference between belief and faith.

You do indeed require evidence to support your belief that someone loves you. There’s the evidence of how they behave towards you, the fact that they continue to be with you over a period of time; there’s the evidence of what they say; ‘I love you’. Think about the people who you would assert love you; in each case you’d be able to adduce reasons to support your assertion.

That’s belief; you have some reason to believe that a certain proposition is true, and can cite the reasons if asked. Faith, on the other hand, would be if I simply declared that someone was in love with me, even if I had absolutely no reason to believe this was the case.

Say, for example, I were to turn to around and declare that Angelina Jolie loves me? I have never met her and she has never met me. I’m quite sure that if I did, I wouldn’t exactly have Brad Pitt worried. As far as I know, Ms. Jolie is blissfully unaware of my existence, and perfectly content to keep it that way. I have absolutely no reason to believe that she is madly, passionately in love with me, and would dump poor Brad if I asked her to. My assertion that she is, in the face of a total lack of any evidence to support that assertion, is an act of faith, not belief.

What if I were to advance in support of my assertion some of the arguments that the religious commonly use to justify their belief in god?

What if I was to say, for example, that I am absolutely sure and certain in the very fibre of my being that Angelina Jolie loves me, and would happily dump Brad Pitt? I don’t just believe this, I know it. I know it with a certainty that you could never understand. Nothing that you could possibly say can convince me that Angelina Jolie is not madly in love with me. Would the passion or certainty with which I believed the proposition persuade anyone that it must be true? I doubt it.

Or what if I said that I don’t want to live in a world where Angelina Jolie doesn’t love me, because this belief gives my life meaning and purpose? Anyone convinced yet? How about the argument that believing that Angelina loves me makes me a better person? I’m kinder to African kids for example, knowing that when we move in together I’m going to have a whole bunch to look after. Convinced?

Of course not. If I really believed this, and really tried to use such arguments to support that belief, I’d very likely find myself carted off by the men in the white coats.

So why is it in the field of religion, and religion alone, that we find such arguments persuasive? Why do we accept without question justifications for belief in the area of religion, that we would be rejected as absurd, if not downright insane, if used in any other field?

Ask yourself that question the next time you hear a religious person justifying their belief. Ask yourself; if this argument was being used by this person to convince me that Angelina Jolie was madly in love with them, would I find their reasoning persuasive? If the answer is no, then how can you find it persuasive when used in defence of religious belief?

We can call it the Angelina Jolie test.

Reason, Evidence and Probability.

One of my (many) objections to religion is the way it persuades otherwise sane people to accept propositions with a degree of certainty which, when compared with the evidence upon which the proposition is based, borders on insanity. This is a strong statement. Let me use a thought experiment to try to justify it.

Imagine you are travelling a lonely road alone when suddenly the clouds roll apart before your eyes, the heavens are split with a searing light, and a god-like figure appears in the sky and speaks to you. There are no witnesses, and when the apparition vanishes, the only evidence you have is your own memory of the event. Now, how would a rational, sane person interpret their experience?

They would realise that there are two possible explanations of what just happened. Either the being that created the universe had just revealed themselves to them, or they had suffered a psychological episode of some sort. Which explanation is the more likely? Surely, any rational person would have to at least consider the possibility that they had just experienced a hallucination of some sort. On balance, given what we know about how the world works, this is a far more probable explanation.

So even if you witnessed an event like this yourself, reason would compel you to conclude that on balance you had hallucinated, or at least that this was a strong possibility.

Now, imagine that you were not the one that saw the apparition at all, but that your best friend came to you and reported seeing the vision.  You now have three possibilities to consider; the event occurred as described; your friend is lying; your friend experienced a hallucination. Again, reason would compel you to conclude that the latter two are far more probable than the first. If you were willing to doubt the reality of the event where you witnessed it yourself, how much more should you doubt it where you saw nothing, and have only the testimony of a friend to go on?

At least if the witness is a friend you have information available to you to help reach a conclusion. What you know of the person should help you assess the three possibilities; is the person normally honest, are they prone to exaggeration or have a vivid imagination, etc. ? But imagine if, instead of your friend reporting the incident to you, the story is related to you by a complete stranger. You meet someone who you have never seen before, who tells you a fantastic tale of clouds rumbling, other-worldly lights and heavenly apparitions.

Again, if you are compelled to doubt the testimony of your own eyes, or that of a close friend, how much more would you doubt the testimony of a complete stranger? What sane, rational person, being told such a tale, would conclude that it must have occurred as described, and reject completely any suggestion that the stranger before them was lying, making it up or reporting a psychotic episode?

But it gets better. Imagine now that the person telling you the tale, again a complete stranger, did not actually witness the event, but is passing on to you a story that was told to them, and they were told the story by a complete stranger as well. Surely, to lend any credence to the such a third hand report is to stretch credulity beyond breaking point. Imagine its related fourth or fifth hand. Someone who you’ve never met before tells you that someone told them that someone told them that someone told them that they had seen an amazing apparition in the sky.

Who would not doubt the sanity, or at least seriously question the judgment of a person who, on hearing such a tale, immediately concluded that it must be true, and rejected out of hand any other possibility? You have no idea who the original witness is supposed to be, you don’t even know their name. You know none of the intermediate links in the chain, the persons to whom the tale was related. You, in fact, know nothing of anyone involved, beyond being able to see the person standing before you, telling you a tale that someone told him. Is it unfair to say that to unquestioningly accept the veracity of the report in such circumstances borders on insanity?

But even this seems positively sceptical when compared to the situation with religion. Here we don’t even have a person telling us the tale. We have an ancient book which contains tales of fantastical apparitions and happenings. We have absolutely no idea who wrote this book. We don’t have any original accounts, we don’t even have copies of the originals. As one noted biblical scholar put it;

“Not only do we not have the originals; we don’t have the first copies of the originals. We don’t even have copies of the copies of the originals, or copies of the copies of the copies of the originals. What we have are copies made later – much later. In most instances, they are copies made many centuries later.” (Professor Bart D Ehrman, New testament scholar and current James A. Gray Distinguished Professor of Religious Studies).

So, we have a copy of a copy of a copy of a copy of book. We have absolutely no idea who wrote it. We have no idea who any of the intermediate copiers are. Yet we are asked to treat the fantastical tales it tells as absolutely true, to reject out of hand any hint or suggestion that they may be wrong, that someone may have made them up, or have embellished, mistranslated or miscopied them.

Given the complete lack of any corroboration, given the passage of time, given the unbelievable nature of the tales told, given the fact that we have no idea who originally is supposed to have witnessed them, no idea who first wrote the tales down, no idea who any of the many copiers are, is it going too far to describe someone who placed absolute and unconditional faith in the accuracy of such reports as insane?

If it was anything other than religion they’d have been locked up ages ago.

Secret Codes, Holy Grails & our Fascination with the Improbable

(This is the text of a lecture which I gave to our local history and culture society).

Tip: Click on page graphics to get a full size versions

This talk, though intended to be light-hearted in its approach, is motivated by a very real concern. In recent years the world has seen a worrying slide towards irrationality and gullibility. Perhaps as a result of the decline of formal religion, a host of strange and unlikely beliefs have arisen and grown in popularity. From homeopathy to alien abductions, from spoon bending to ‘end times’ predictions, more and more people seem more and more willing to suspend their critical faculties and accept improbable, unlikely and fantastic claims. This talk sets out to consider why, using the phenomenon of the bestselling Da Vinci Code as a case study.

But the first question to ask is; do we have a reliable, tested and rigorous method of arriving at accurate truth-statements about reality? And secondly, if we do, why are so many people apparently so willing to dispense with this method, and rush to believe improbable claims?

This then determines the format of the talk, which begins by looking at the best method yet discovered for accurately describing the world around us; critical rational thought, and its most rigorous expression; the scientific method. The talk then moves on to consider why, if we have such a tested and reliable tool, people are so willing to dispense with it? I argue that this tendency is due to two sets of factors, which could broadly be grouped under the headings of evolutionary hangovers, and secondly flawed reasoning. Finally I ask the question; does it matter? Are such beliefs harmless crack-pottery, or do they have more serious implications?

Critical, Rational Thought.

Critical, rational thinking has been repeatedly shown to be the most reliable method of arriving at accurate statements about reality. The fact that you are reading this is evidence of that, since the technology that you are relying to do so is a product of this approach. All around us, every day, we are surrounded by the products of the rationalist approach, and it would be hard to imagine life without them. Perhaps the highest expression of this approach is the scientific method, but before looking at this in more detail, a word on definitions.

Proof: This is a word that is bandied about quite loosely. People will say ‘ah, but there’s no proof of that’, or they’ll point to the fact that scientists acknowledge that such and such a claim has not been proven. Nothing in the real world is ever proven. Proof exists only in the self-contained realm of mathematics.

In the real world we can never be absolutely certain about the truth of any claim or proposition, if only because we could, in theory, be ‘brains in a jar’, sitting in a lab somewhere being fed artificial stimuli.

While I am not for a second suggesting that this is the case, the fact that it is theoretically possible means that we can never be absolutely certain of anything beyond our awareness of our own thought processes; I think, therefore I am, as Descartes put it. This is the limit of what anyone can know with absolute certainty. Beyond that, we are left with propositions that may be assigned a probability value. This value runs from 0, (the proposition is absolutely definitely untrue), to 1, (the proposition is absolutely definitely true). Nothing in the real world can ever have a probability value of 0, and nothing can have a probability value of 1.

For example, how do you prove that unicorns and leprechauns don’t exist? You can’t. You can say that absolutely no evidence has ever been adduced to support their existence, and that their existence would contravene what we know about the way the world is, but unless you could simultaneously visit every part of the universe and observe the absence of unicorns and leprechauns, you cannot say with absolute certainty that they don’t exist. Only logically impossible concepts, (such as hot snow or a pillow made of memories), can have a probability of zero.

Some propositions may approach a probability of 0, such as leprechauns, unicorns, bankers declining bonuses etc, or may approach a probability of 1, such as the existence of the chair you’re sitting in, but in the real world nothing is absolutely proven or disproven.

Theory: There is much confusion about this term, largely arising out of the fact that its usage is different in scientific parlance and everyday language. People say things like, ‘well, that’s only a theory’, failing to realise that in science ‘theory’ represents the very highest status that an explanation can attain, and one that it can attain only after a rigorous and exhaustive process of examination and review. Many people use the word theory as a synonym for ‘guess’ or ‘hunch’, (I have a theory about who used the last of the milk), but this is not the way the word is used in academic discourse.

Fact: How many times have you heard, ‘it’s only a theory, it’s not a fact’? As if somehow theories, if they’re really good and go to bed early, will grow up to be facts. A fact never becomes a theory, a theory never becomes a fact. In science ‘facts’ occupy the lowest rung on the ladder, they are the least important concepts. A fact is simply the verifiable occurrence of a particular event. A theory is what we use to try to explain a related series of facts. The best theory available in any given situation is the explanation that can best account for all the known facts, and that fails to account for none of them. Theories explain facts, they never become them.

To illustrate this notion let us consider the scientific method, perhaps the most rigorous example of critical rational thinking at work. We do this for two reasons; firstly to give the audience an appreciation of just how hard an explanation has to work in order to be called a theory, and secondly to contrast this careful and rigorous approach with what could be called the ‘conspiracy theory’ approach.

All science begins with three wonderful and magical words, the most beautiful words in the English language; ‘we don’t know’. An honest acknowledgement that we don’t understand a process, or can’t explain a phenomenon, is the beginning of the process of discovery. It invites enquiry and investigation. In contrast declaring that we know the answer, (e.g. god did it), and cannot be wrong, brings all enquiry and investigation to a halt.

So having decided on a problem to examine, the researcher must then formulate a hypothesis; a suggestion or hunch about what the answer might be. But while a particular hypothesis may appear correct, and may fit the facts, if not examined further it has no value. A hypothesis must be tested to be of any use. So in reality, conspiracy ‘theories’ should not be called theories at all. They are untested hypotheses.

To test the hypothesis the researcher must formulate a falsifiable prediction. In other words, ‘if this explanation was correct, I would expect X to happen’, and then go out and devise an experiment that tests whether or not X actually does happen. Let us take a hypothetical example, to illustrate the approach.

Let us take an imaginary researcher, Professor Jane, who is intrigued by the question of how pigeons manage their amazing feats of navigation. Casting around in her mind for an explanation she hits upon an educated hunch. Jane remembers reading a paper some time ago which revealed that pigeons have a bone in their skulls that carries a weak magnetic charge. She wonders if the pigeons are using this bone almost like a compass.

Jane now has her hypothesis. Her hunch is reasonable, it fits the facts, and it explains the problem. But at this stage her idea is worthless. This is because it has not been tested. So many conspiracy theories stop at this stage, they suggest a plausible explanation, one that could be true, but never go on to test whether it is or not.

So Jane must now formulate a falsifiable prediction, a prediction that is capable of being tested and shown to be incorrect. This is an important point; scientists don’t set out to ‘prove’ a hypothesis correct, they set out to test if it is incorrect.

So Jane reasons that if she can construct a small device that interrupts the magnetic field generated by the pigeons they should lose all sense of direction and, if female, stop other pigeons and ask for directions, and if male, say nothing but keep wandering around in the hope of eventually finding the right route. So Jane builds a small helmet capable of damping the magnetic field, fits it to her test subject and, lo and behold, it loses all sense of direction. Does Jane now have a theory? Not by a country mile.

How do we know there wasn’t something wrong with that particular pigeon, something about the weather conditions that day, or some other factor?Jane must repeat the experiment, with a suitably large sample of pigeons, of different breeds, ages, in different weather conditions etc, and only if she gets repeated and regular results can she be said to be on to something.

But even this is not enough. How does she know that the results she is getting are not due to some other factor that is common to all the pigeons, but which she hasn’t accounted for? So she needs a control group, a second group of pigeons that are as far as possible identical to the test group in terms of breed, age range etc, and who have made for them little helmets, identical to the test helmets but for the magnetic damping effect. Only if Jane gets the expected effect in the test subjects, and fails to get it in the control group, can she be reasonably confident that the effect is due to the phenomenon being tested.

But Jane is not out of the woods yet. She must now face what for most researchers is the most daunting hurdle to clear; she must get her work published in a recognised peer-reviewed journal. The peer review process involves submitting her work to the examination and scrutiny of a panel of other experts in the same field, who will tear it apart looking for errors. Was the sample group properly selected? Was the testing conducted to the required standard? Did Jane account for all alternative explanations? Did the results show what she said they showed, or could they be due to some other factor? Only if her work clears this hurdle can Jane be said to have developed a recognised theory.

The peer review process represents a vital check. It ensures that research must be independently verified before being published, and that is has met the required standard. No claim that has not been subject to this scrutiny can be of any merit.

This is the case with US creationists for example, who are actively trying to get the biblical account of creation taught in American schools as a scientific theory of equal merit to the theory of evolution. They protest that all they are seeking is equal treatment, that the two theories be presented to schoolchildren as equally plausible alternatives. But in fact they are looking for preferential treatment, since their hypothesis has not been subject to the rigorous and thorough process of review and examination that the theory of evolution has been.

To date there hasn’t been a single piece of research published in a recognised peer-reviewed journal that supports the creationist hypothesis. There have been many thousands of such studies published that support the theory of evolution, yet creationists want the two approaches treated as if they are of equal value.

But back to Jane. Even after Jane has had her theory published she is still not out of the woods, and in fact she never will be. Her work is now open the scientific world for critical review. Other researchers may repeat her experiments. If they do, they must get the same results. If they don’t, something is wrong. Her theory must be consistent with what we already know about how the world works, and must remain consistent as new discoveries are made.

No theory is ever finally proven. There are no sacred cows in science, no individuals or theories that are beyond question. Science follows where the evidence leads, regardless of whether this does or does not fit in with what individual scientists would like to be true. No matter how important a theory is, how respected its formulator, or how long it has been around, if a better theory comes along it will be dropped.

So we have at our disposal a reliable, tested, rigorous method of examining the world around us and arriving at accurate statements about reality. Why is it then that so many of us seem to willing to abandon this method, and accept highly improbable claims? It is because of two sets of factors; a hangover from our evolutionary past, and the application, sometimes deliberate, of flawed reasoning.

2. Evolutionary Hangovers.

Our brains are just as much a product of the evolutionary process as our bodies. As with our body, our cognitive process can sometimes throw up unhelpful or incongruous results, a sort of mental appendix or coccyx.

It is often said that humans are pattern seeking animals. We seek out relationships between events, looking for connections and patterns. This conferred a huge advantage on us in our evolutionary past. Noticing that a particular pattern of clouds precedes a particular type of weather, or that a particular colour of soil produces particular results when planted, would have huge survival implications for our ancestors. Humans today are the product of hundreds of thousands of years of a process that drives us to seek patterns. We abhor randomness.

Pattern seeking has produced hugely beneficial results. The Egyptian civilisation, for example, was largely built on their ability to predict the annual flooding of the Nile, which was discovered because people saw a pattern, noticed that the annual rising of the Dog Star (Sirius) was followed by the beginning of the Nile flood. Being able to accurately predict this event allowed them to prepare for it, and take full advantage of it. The problem is that so strong is this urge that we will see patterns even where none exist, and are very suggestible in this regard.

A classic example is the famous canals on Mars. When astronomers first turned their telescopes to the surface of Mars they were astonished to see the it was covered with long straight lines. What could they be but canals? The Martian canals aroused huge debate and speculation, but unfortunately didn’t exist.

What had happened was that early telescopes were not good at resolving surface detail, and instead showed random scatterings of hazy blotches and marks. The human mind hates randomness, and our innate urge to sort random phenomena into patterns took over and arranged the blotches and blobs so that scientists ‘saw’ straight lines.

But this instinct can also be exploited for more sinister purposes. One of the mainstays of Hitler’s rabid propaganda was the claim that communism was the product of an international Jewish conspiracy, that it had been concocted by Jews in order to undermine western society. His evidence? Well, Nazis pointed out, Marx was Jewish, so was Lenin, so was Trotsky. Gullible people gasped and said, ‘my god, he’s right’! What the Nazis were doing was imposing a pattern on unrelated events, suggesting that these were not isolated facts, but fitted into an overall scheme. Our instinctive need to find patterns did the rest.

Another evolutionary hangover that influences our susceptibility to conspiracy theories is our instinct to see agency in ambiguous situations.

‘Agency’ in this context refers to the actions of a mind or a conscious actor. An ambiguous event, for example the rustling of grass, could be the result of naturalistic process, e.g. the wind blowing, or it could be the result of agency, e.g. an animal moving in the undergrowth. It doesn’t take too much imagination to see that a propensity to opt for the second explanation would confer an evolutionary advantage, since the rustling might be due to a sabre toothed tiger. Our less easily startled ancestor therefore was at greater risk of being eaten, since his more nervous companion would have taken to his heels.

We are the product of a couple of hundred thousand years of natural selection that urges us to see a conscious mind behind every situation, on the very sound basis that in the past this tendency could have saved our lives. But as with our pattern seeking behaviour, we have a tendency to see agency even where none is present. This was probably the basis for most ancient religions, which saw naturalistic processes, such as the rising of the sun or the flowing of a river, as being directed by a conscious mind. Hence the Greek belief that the sun was pulled across the sky each day by the god Helios, or pagan beliefs that trees and rivers were inhabited by spirits.

This tendency then leaves us very susceptible to suggestions that conscious minds lie behind random events. A lot of the 9/11 conspiracies, for example, make use of this effect. They cite the catalogue of errors and slip-ups that made the attacks possible; the intelligence lapse, the poor reaction of the security forces, etc, and suggest that a conscious mind directed these events. Our atavistic desire to see agency at work then kicks in, and we find these claims instinctively much more satisfying than the far more probable explanation; human fallibility and random cock-up

3. Flawed Reasoning.

So human minds are programmed in a way that makes them susceptible to improbable claims in certain circumstances. This tendency is then compounded by errors in reasoning. One is a failure to distinguish between a particular explanation being consistent with the facts, and the explanation being supported by the facts, and these are two very different propositions.

An explanation or hypothesis is consistent with the facts if there is nothing in the facts that would contradict or refute the particular explanation. An explanation is supported by the facts if the facts are such as to suggest that this explanation is likely to be correct, or more likely to be correct than any competing explanation. Time and again conspiracy theorists devise explanations that ‘fit’ the facts, and then because there is nothing in the evidence to contradict the explanation, claim therefore that their theory is supported. But a hypothesis can be completely outlandish and yet still be consistent with the facts.

Take a deliberately stark example. My car is parked outside. The doors are locked and my keys are in my pocket. These facts are consistent with the theory that I drove here, parked up, locked the car and came in.

But they are equally consistent with the theory that I’m on first name terms with the captain of the Starship Enterprise, that he flew over my house and used his matter transporter to beam me up, then flew over and beamed the car back down again. The facts as presented above are entirely consistent with both explanations.

So have I demonstrated the existence of the Enterprise? Of course not. But why not? Why is the first explanation more acceptable? It is useful to ask this question in this case, because although this is a deliberately obvious example, the same method is frequently used in more subtle guises to dupe the unwary into accepting outlandish theories.

There is a very useful intellectual tool that can assist us in this regard; Occam’s Razor. This was devised by William of Occam, (or Ockham), a fourteenth century Franciscan monk and philosopher. Essentially he argued that in a situation where we are confronted with a number of competing explanations, we should ask how many assumptions need to be made in order for each explanation to be true, (and how outlandish are those assumptions). All things being equal, the rational option is to go with the explanation that requires the fewest assumptions.

This principle has been enunciated in various guises. Occam himself stated it as “entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity”, and it is frequently popularised as “the simpler an explanation is the more likely it is to be true”, which doesn’t quite capture what Occam was arguing. Applying this to the above example, we would ask how many assumptions need to be made in order for each explanation to be true.

Well, for the first explanation to be true we need only assume that I know how to drive, (anyone who has gotten a lift from me may by now be convinced of the existence of the Starship Enterprise). But in order for the second explanation to be true we must make a whole raft of assumptions, all of them highly improbable. We must assume the existence of extraterrestrial civilisations, advanced technology, interstellar star travel, matter transporters etc. etc. etc. This is a deliberately obvious example, but it is a tool that can be applied when confronted with any improbable claim.

I like to conceive of this in terms of a ladder of improbability, with simplest, most probable explanation at the bottom, and the most outlandish at the top. The rational approach is to start at the bottom, but so many theories start at the very top, with the most improbable and fantastic explanation, even where simpler and more probable explanations exist.

Of course, one may come across a piece of evidence that cannot be accounted for with the very simplest explanation. Going back to the above example, you may go out to my car shortly after I arrive and put your hand on the engine and find it stone cold. Now we have a problem, because here’s a fact that the very simplest explanation cannot account for. So have I now proved the existence of Star Trek? No, because there are still plenty of rungs left in the ladder. The next likeliest explanation could be that I was towed here. It’s not as probable as the very simplest explanation, but its infinitely more probable that the Starship Enterprise theory.

A useful maxim here was coined by the late, great Carl Sagan; “extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence”. You may feel that a car with a cold engine is sufficient evidence to support the existence of interstellar starships, but I doubt it. The more fantastic the claim is, the more it deviates from the norm or challenges the accepted view of how the world works, the higher the standard of evidence we should demand.

This is not to say that a fantastic claim is necessarily wrong, merely that we should require evidence in direct proportion to the improbability of the claim being made. Yet it is amazing how many times vast edifices of improbability are erected on the very flimsiest of evidence.

But by far the greatest culprit when it comes to conspiracy theories is that of confirmation bias; the propensity to decide that an explanation is true, then carefully select only the evidence and arguments that support that belief. If you think back to Professor Jane, one of the features of the scientific process is the importance attached to considering all possible explanations, of not assuming that a particular explanation is true, but of checking and re checking to ensure that other possible explanations have been considered and accounted for.

This why if you read a book on a conspiracy theory you may very well come away convinced, because the author has started with the assumption that their theory is correct, then selected only those facts that support this conclusion. Any contradictory evidence is ignored or dismissed. If any reputable scientist tried this approach their work would be rejected out of hand.

There have been several interesting experiments done that illustrated this tendency. In one, test subjects were shown a short number sequence; 2,4,6… told that the sequence conformed to a rule, and they had to discover what the rule was. This they could do by putting other number sequences to the researcher, who would tell them whether or not they too conformed to the rule. When they thought they knew what the rule was they were to tell the researcher.

In almost all cases the subjects looked at the sequence and concluded that it was obviously a series of increasing even numbers. To confirm this they then submitted other sequences of increasing even numbers to the researcher, such as 8,10,12… or 16,18,20… In each case the researcher confirmed that these too conformed to the rule, whereupon the subject would triumphantly announce that the rule was ‘increasing even numbers’, and were all disappointed to be told they were wrong.

In fact the rule was ‘any series of increasing numbers’, but what almost every test subject had done was take one look at the sequence, decide what the rule was, then only submit other sequences that also conformed to that rule. Few if any submitted a sequence that contradicted their assumption. Everyone sought to confirm the conclusion they had already reached, hardly anyone sought to challenge it.

So people are quick to reach conclusions on partial evidence, and loath to then challenge their assumptions. A second problem is that having arrived at a conclusion, people are very unwilling to abandon it, even if shown that the evidence upon which the assumption was based is faulty. Another experiment nicely illustrated this tendency.

A group of people were asked a simple question; which type of person did they think made the best fire-fighter; a cautious person who always followed procedure, or a daring risk-taker who was prepared to take chances? Like most people, the test group had no particular insight into fire-fighting, and so there was no clear pattern in their answers; about half said they didn’t know, the other half split roughly evenly between the two options.

The group was then given a paper purportedly written by a long-serving fire-fighter, who set out their opinion that the risk-taker made the better fire-fighter. They were asked again who they thought would be best, and now some 70% opted for the risk-taker. All nice and rational; they were given new evidence, and adjusted their answers accordingly.

But then they were told that the paper they had just read was a fake, it was made up by the researchers. They were asked a third time who they thought was best. Rationally, they should have now returned to their original neutral position, as they had been shown that the evidence which they had used to reach their last conclusion was faulty. But instead some 60% stuck with the opinion that the risk taker was better.

This is why, if you are ever dealing with someone who has already decided that a conspiracy exists, it can be enormously difficult to get them to question that belief, even if you present them with persuasive arguments and evidence. Some people will perform mental gymnastics in order to carry on believing what they believe.

Science attaches great importance to eliminating confirmation bias. For example, when a piece of the Turin Shroud was finally allowed to be carbon-dated some years ago, it wasn’t simply submitted to a lab and tested. Instead the sample was divided into three parts, and each part was sent along with two other similar control samples to three different labs. None knew which was the sample from the shroud and which were the control samples. They were just given three samples marked A, B, and C, (or whatever), and asked to date them. All nine test results were then collected, and only then was it revealed which was which. (All three labs dated their portion of the shroud to the 13/14th century, by the way).

A final point before launching into the Da Vinci Code. You will rarely if ever get complete unanimity on a particular theory, or get a situation where all the evidence supports a particular conclusion, and none supports any rival explanations. You can always find, if you look hard enough, a scientist who disagrees with the consensus in a particular area, or a piece of research that doesn’t quite fit the accepted view.

What matters is where the preponderance of evidence lies. Does the bulk of the evidence or scientific opinion point to a particular conclusion? If the overwhelming weight of the evidence points in a particular direction, but you chose to reject it in favour of a theory for which there is far less evidence, you need to ask yourself why. Are you choosing to go with that theory for rational reasons, or are there other factors at play?

Take, for example, the current debate over climate change. The overwhelming weight of evidence, research and professional opinion supports the argument that our climate is undergoing unprecedented change, and that human activities are a major cause of this change.

Yet many stubbornly refuse to accept this conclusion, and will point to this particular piece of research, or the opinion of that particular scientist, to support their conclusion. They will highlight the very few studies that do not support the thesis, but happily ignore the overwhelming body of research that does. You can always find such studies. If you look hard enough you can probably find a scientist that rejects the germ theory of disease or even the theory of gravity. But if the overwhelming preponderance of evidence points to a particular conclusion, and a person refuses to accept that conclusion, then they are probably doing so for non-rational reasons.

These reasons might include a fear of the consequences of accepting the theory, the fact that it might conflict with other beliefs that they hold, or perhaps there are financial or other benefits to rejecting the theory. But in every such case their reasoning is non-rational, and may even be irrational.

4. Case Study – The Da Vinci Code.

Dan Brown’s book the Da Vinci Code was published in 2003 and became an instant best seller. It covered similar ground to an earlier work called The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail. While the former was a novel and the latter a non-fiction work, a similar claim formed the main theme of both works, revolving around the figure of Mary Magdalene.

According to the book, she was not the peripheral figure she is represented as in Christian tradition. She was of central importance, and in fact was the wife of Jesus. More than that, she was pregnant with their child at the time of Jesus’ crucifixion, following which she gave birth to a daughter and fled with her in a boat, ending up in the south of France. Their daughter grew up to found the Merovingian dynasty, one of the first great dynasties of Europe and the first royal house of France.

These events lie at the heart of the Grail legend, which referred not to a cup, as commonly supposed, but to the sacred bloodline; the bloodline of Christ himself. In French the term Holy Grail was translated as San Greal, but in fact in early writings it is spelt Sang Real, which literally means Royal Blood, i.e. the blood (descendants) of Jesus.

In 1099 a secret organisation known as the Order of the Priory of Sion was formed to protect this holy bloodline. It has been manipulating history behind the scenes ever since, to ensure that the great secret remains secret. Its members have included some of the most influential figures in European history, including Isaac Newton and Leonardo da Vinci. Secret documents were discovered in the Bibliotheque Nationale in Paris that attest to these facts.

In 1119 the Knights Templar were formed in the Holy Land, essentially as the armed wing of the Priory. They were stationed in the Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem, and began digging under the Temple, where they unearthed documents which proved the Jesus and Mary Magdalene claims. These documents enabled the order to grow in power and influence, and explains their spectacular rise from an order founded by two impoverished knights, to one of the richest and most powerful organisations in Christendom.

But there are secret clues to the truth left around for those who know how to find them. In his painting of the Last Supper Da Vinci left a number of such clues which, if read correctly, reveals the great secret.

This then is the conspiracy theory at the heart of the book. How do the claims stand up to scrutiny?

Let us begin with the claim that Jesus was married. The evidence for this is fairly thin, and derives mainly from the fact that nowhere in the bible does it say that Jesus wasn’t married. This is not as silly as it sounds at first. In Jewish society at the time it would have been extremely unusual for a male in his thirties not to married, and the argument is that if Jesus had been unmarried it would surely have been remarked upon.

This type of argument is known as the argument ex silencio, the argument from silence, and scholars always approach it with great caution. Essentially the argument is ‘if X had occurred it would have been remarked upon. X was not remarked upon, therefore X did not occur’. Expressed in this way, it is obvious that an untested and untestable assumption lies at the heart of the argument, hence it is treated with great caution.

We have many instances of major events going completely unremarked by contemporary commentators. One of my favourite examples is a series of letters written between a Protestant minister in the west of Ireland and a clerical friend of his in England. Each wrote to the other each month with the news from their parish. The letters were exchanged each month during the years of the Great Famine, yet not one of the letters contains a single reference to it. Are we to conclude from this that the famine never happened? A conspiracy theorist could certainly use this anomaly to argue so.

Another point is that while it would be extremely unusual for an ordinary male to be unmarried at 30, Jesus was not an ordinary male. He had styled himself, and was seen by his followers, as a wandering holy man and preacher, and it was quite accepted for holy men to be unmarried, and usually celibate. So it is fair to say that the preponderance of expert opinion among biblical scholars is that while this is an interesting question, on balance the evidence suggests Jesus was not married.

But even if we accept that he was married, how do we get from that to Mary Magdalene being pregnant, the child being female, the family fleeing Palestine, the family ending up in France, the daughter founding a royal dynasty? Think back to my car with a cold engine. Does this support the case for interstellar travel and spaceships? This is a classic case of a huge edifice of improbable claims being erected one tiny piece of contested and shaky evidence.

The only evidence that can be adduced in this case is a local legend in the French coastal town of San Marie de la Mere. Here they hold an annual festival to commemorate the arrival of the ‘two Mary’s’, who according to local legend were refugees from the Holy Land who arrived in the town by boat shortly after the crucifixion, accompanied by a female child named Sarah, which means ‘princess’ in Hebrew.

This version of the legend got its first airing in a book called The Lady with the Alabaster Jar by Margaret Starwood, in which she argued that one of the women was Mary Magdalene, and that the child Sarah was her daughter. Again, this is a classic case of pattern-seeking. Several facts are adduced, (if they can be called facts), and a pattern is weaved over them, then presented to us as the only possible explanation. But what we are presented with is one possible interpretation of some very sketchy evidence, with a huge amount of speculation built on. If you wanted to, you could interpret these ‘facts’ to support the theory, but is this explanation the most probable one? How about a few strokes form Occam’s Razor?

St. Sarah; 'Sarah the Black'. Patron saint of Romany Gypsies.

To begin with, let us go back to the legend. The locals in San Marie de La Mere are quite clear about who is in the boat. The two Mary’s are Mary Salome and Mary Jacobe, two minor figures in Christian tradition. And the mysterious child that accompanies them is not mysterious at all. In fact she is St. Sarah, also known as Sarah the Black, (because she was Egyptian), who went on to become the patron saint of the Romany gypsies. The annual celebration at San Marie de la Mere is in fact one of the most important cultural events in the Romany calendar.

So apply Occam’s razor to the two alternatives. How many assumptions have to be made in order for each to be correct? How extravagant are those assumptions? How great a violation of probability is required, and is the evidence adduced sufficiently extraordinary to justify the claims? Where on the ladder of probability are we being invited to stand? I leave it to the reader to decide.

What about the Knights Templar? They are a well-known and well documented organisation, with a history that is fascinating in its own right. They were indeed stationed in the Temple of Solomon, but what about excavations?

Well, there is absolutely no evidence of any excavations ever having been conducted under the Temple until recent times. Now, a complete lack of any evidence has never been a bar to a good conspiracy theory, but another problem is that archaeologists have only begun to reach biblical strata in their diggings in the last century or so. Jerusalem has been built over again and again, and it has been estimated that had the Templars tried to excavate down to the biblical level it would have taken them about 140 years to do so.

So what about their great wealth? The source of Templar wealth is more prosaic than in the conspiracy theory version, but just as fascinating. The Templars became wealthy because they in effect invented the international money order.

In 12th century Europe moving large quantities of money from A to B was an extremely expensive and risky undertaking. Firstly, almost all money was in the form of silver or gold coins, or precious stones. It could be moved either by land, requiring a large escort and running the risk of attack by bandits, or by sea, risking pirates and storms. In either event that process was slow, risky and very expensive.

What the Templars did was establish a series of Templar Treasuries, (in effect mini-castles), throughout the Holy Land and Europe. If a lord in Jerusalem wanted to send a large quantity of gold to Paris, for example, all he did was deposit the gold in the Treasury in Jerusalem, where he would be issued with a receipt. This he would then take or send to the Treasury in Paris, who would release the required amount in gold, and of course pocket a hefty commission. So huge was the demand for the service that the Order could barely keep up.

So again we have two alternative explanations of the facts, and a rational person would have to ask themselves which was the more plausible, which was more probable, and which required the fewest assumptions.

We turn now to the claim that has perhaps aroused the most interest; the clues supposedly hidden in the painting of the Last Supper. A secret code is a prerequisite of any good conspiracy theory, but I have never understood the reasoning behind them. Why go to considerable trouble to cover something up, then go to more trouble to leave clues to the cover up lying about the place? I have never seen a plausible reason given for this, and cannot understand why it would be in the interest of any conspirator to do so.

Be that as it may, we are presented with the claim that Da Vinci’s ‘The Last Supper’ contains such clues. What are they?

Well the main clues centre around the figure on Jesus’ right, which according to tradition is the Apostle John, but according to Brown is in fact a woman; Mary Magdalene. This figure, Brown argues, is very obviously female. ‘She’ sits in the place of honour on Jesus’ right, and even wears complementary clothes.

Another major clue refers to something that is missing; the grail. This is a painting of the Last Supper, yet where is the cup that was used at the last supper, the Holy Grail? Why is one of the central features of the event missing? It is missing because Da Vinci was alluding to the fact that the Holy Grail was not in fact a cup. As mentioned above, the Holy Grail actually referred to the sacred lineage of Jesus. The Holy Grail is there, it is in fact Mary Magdalene. She is the Holy Grail of legend, the bearer of the sacred bloodline!

Let us start with the ‘feminine’ figure of John. What we are doing here is imposing 20th century conceptions on 14th century European culture. ‘Male’ and ‘female’ refer to sex and are biological terms. ‘Masculine’ and ‘feminine’ refer to gender, and are social and cultural terms. Dominant understandings of masculine and feminine change over time and across cultures. What we would now consider to be a ‘feminine’ figure would not have been seen as such in 15th century culture.

Take these two figures. The one on the right is St. Sebastian, on the left an English knight of the 100 years war. While both figures strike us as feminine, they would not have seemed so at the time. The figure below is another one that would appear to be ‘obviously’ female, but is in fact a painting of St. John the Baptist by Da Vinci.

It must also be remembered that St. John, ‘the apostle whom Jesus loved’, was traditionally represented as a beautiful and youthful figure. On the right is another painting of the Last Supper by a contemporary of Da Vinci, with St. John being the figure on Jesus’ left.

What about the position of the John figure, and the similarity in clothing? Well, we don’t know, as Da Vinci never left any clear explanation of what his intention was. But is the Dan Brown explanation the most probable? How many assumptions need to be made in order for that explanation to be correct?

On the other hand, we know Da Vinci was commissioned to paint the Last Supper in accordance with the account contained in St. John’s gospel. Might not the figure of John be portrayed as he was as an allusion to the fact that it was his version that was being depicted?

What about the missing grail? Well, the grail was missing for a very good reason; it never existed in the first place. Nowhere in the bible or early Christian writings is there any reference to a holy grail. The grail legend is in fact the invention of early mediaeval literature. It was mainly the work of the author Chretien de Troyes, who set out the first complete version of the Grail legend in his Perceval; the legend of the Grail, written in 1181.

The version that readers are likely to be most familiar with is that in Thomas Mallory’s Le Morte d’Arthur, which contains the familiar story of Sir Galahad and his quest to find the lost grail. So the grail wasn’t in Da Vinci’s painting because it never existed, it was a work of fiction.

Was the phrase San Greal originally rendered as Sang Real? Unfortunately no. In fact the second spelling only appears in a single place; a mediaeval translation of the Perceval story by an English monk called John Harding, where the phrase was mistranslated. In every other reference to the phrase it is written as San Greal.

So on to the secret society which, like a hidden code, is a essential feature of any good conspiracy theory. Well, wonder of wonders, both the Order of the Priory of Sion and the secret documents in the Paris library actually exist! Unfortunately, both were created in the 1960’s.

Both the order and the documents are the creation of three Frenchmen; Pierre Plantard, an eccentric crank who believed himself to be the true king of France, journalist Philippe de Chérisey, who agreed to help his friend concoct evidence to support his claim, and surrealist artist Gerard de Sede, who joined in what he saw as a wonderful piece of performance art.

Pierre Plantard (left) with Philippe de Cherisey

The whole story was revealed by another French journalist, Jean Luc Chaumeil, who was given access to hundreds of letters and documents by de Sede’s son shortly after de Sede’s death, which set out the whole plan in detail, including drafts of the secret dossier to be deposited in the National Library. It is a requirement of French law that all clubs and societies be registered with the authorities. The Order of the Priory of Sion (named after a hill near Plantard’s home town), was registered in the year of our lord 1959.

Chaumeil contacted the authors of the Holy Blood and the Holy Grail before their work was published and warned them about the Priory of Sion hoax, but in a wonderful example of confirmation bias his warnings fell on deaf ears. The conclusion had already been reached, contradictory evidence was simply dismissed or ignored.

Does it Matter?

But we should end by considering a question that is often asked of sceptics; does it matter? Does it really make any difference if certain people are running around believing in flying saucers, the Loch Ness Monster, or alien abductions? Do such beliefs do any harm? I think they do, in fact I think they represent a grievous threat to the future of our society, and risk plunging us into what Carl Sagan called a ‘demon-haunted world’.

The problem is that an openness to improbable claims in one area leaves us very susceptible to improbable claims in another, and not all such claims are harmless. Conversely, cultivating the habit of critical rational thought; questioning all claims, demanding to look at the evidence, weighing up the improbability of the claim being made, and asking if the evidence being adduced is robust enough to support the claim, makes us much more difficult to deceive.

Take, for example, the case made by the British and US governments to support their invasion of Iraq. Both have now acknowledged that there never were any weapons of mass destruction in Iraq, yet both set out a very persuasive case prior to the invasion, a case that convinced many people of the truth of their claims.

All the tricks of the conspiracy theorist were used. Think of Colin Powell’s famous address to the UN; classic pattern-weaving. He adduced a series of facts, then imposed a pattern on them. Confirmation bias was also much in evidence; in various enquiries following the Iraq war the intelligence services of both countries made the same point; they had presented the governments with all the evidence, including that which contradicted the WMD claims, but the governments were only interested in the evidence that confirmed the conclusion they had already reached.

It is not even necessary to believe that the governments in question were consciously misleading us. It is entirely possible that both actually believed the claims they were making, but they arrived at their belief by the same route, and because of the same flawed reasoning, that make all conspiracy theories possible.

This tendency may have even more serious consequences. The most worrying threat facing our species at present, and perhaps the most serious threat we have ever faced, is that of climate change. It amuses me when I hear people say ‘we have to save the planet’. The planet has survived periods when the atmosphere was pure cyanide and the oceans were molten lava. Over 99% of all species that ever lived are now extinct, and when oxygen first entered our atmosphere it wiped out almost all life on earth. The planet has survived far worse than we can ever throw at it. The planet is fine. We, on the other hand, are facing the distinct possibility of extinction as a species if we get this one wrong.

Our demise would be a matter of utter indifference for the planet. As George Carlin put it, the planet will shake us off like a dog shaking off fleas. In a very short space of time in geological terms, say 10-15 million years, there would be no trace of us ever having been here. All evidence of the wonderful products of our imagined superiority would have vanished.
Whatever creatures existed then would live out their lives totally oblivious to the fraction of a second we spent here. The dinosaurs were on earth for some 165 million years, we have been here for barely 200,000. Our arrival and our departure would barely raise a cosmological eyebrow.

I leave you with a quotation from Thomas Huxley:

Homosexuality and football.

One thing which has always puzzled me about religion is its obsession with people’s sexual behaviour, and in particular the near hysteria that is provoked by the subject of male homosexuality.  If there is one thing that unites the extremes of Christianity, Judaism and Islam, it is the apoplectic rage which the merest mention of the subject elicits.  Why, I have often wondered, does the issue produce such extreme reactions?

For my own part, I tend to view homosexuality the same way I view football.

Football has never much appealed to me. I really can’t see the attraction, and I have never understood what supporters see in it. But if people want to engage in that activity, then the very best of luck to them. They’re not doing me any harm, and frankly its none of my business. What right do I have to pass judgement on their behaviour, much less seek to control it? Nobody is talking about making football compulsory. If there’s a match on the TV I have the option of changing to another channel, or simply switching off.

If someone thought that I was a football supporter, and invited me to join them for a match, would I be offended? Of course not. I’d politely point out that I’m not really into football, but thanks for the thought and I hope you enjoy the game. Would I become enraged by their invitation, or threaten them with violence? Would I, in extreme cases, actually assault them, perhaps causing death or serious injury, just because they had invited me to participate in an activity in which I have no particular interest? Of course not. What sane person would?

And yet these are the kind of reactions that homosexuality produces among certain religious fundamentalists. Even moderates seem to have a level of interest in the subject that borders on the obsessive. The recent World Anglican Conference spent almost all of its time debating the issue of gay clergy. So much so that Archbishop Desmond Tutu, (one of my great heroes), wondered aloud if, with all the famine and suffering in the world, the issue of whether or not two men were sleeping together was really the most pressing question that needed to be resolved.

Now, I’m sure that many believers would be quick to point out that the Bible condemns homosexuality, and states clearly that it is an abomination unto the lord. Correct. Indeed it does. And therein lies the nub of the problem.

The religious campaign against homosexuality, when reduced to its most basic, can be stated as follows; “I don’t like it, therefore you shouldn’t be allowed to do it”. In other words, it is an attempt by religious groups to force other people to conform to the dictates of their beliefs.

Of course believers have every right to hold whatever opinion they want to about homosexuality, and if they wish to condemn it as an abomination they have every right to do that, (although it is a little rude). But what they do not have the right to do is to force others to conform to that viewpoint.

If you object to homosexuality; fine. That’s your right. But you don’t have the right to try to control the behaviour of others. Just like me and football; if you don’t like it, THEN DON’T DO IT! What could be simpler?

Don’t like football? Don’t go to a football match. Don’t like homosexuality? Don’t do gay sex. But in neither case do you have the right to ban the activity, force others not to engage in it, seek to have laws passed against it, or otherwise restrict the freedom of choice and action of others.

No doubt believers would by now be arguing that my analogy is not valid, that football does no harm. It is not injurious to people’s mental health, it does not attack or undermine the family, nor does it threaten to erode the fabric of society.

Entirely true, but then again, neither does homosexuality.

I am not aware of any properly conducted piece of research that has ever supported any of these accusations. No evidence has ever been produced to show that homosexuality has any of the negative effects opponents frequently cite. As for gay marriage, a subject guaranteed to have any god-fearing fundie foaming at the mouth, no research has ever been produced to indicate that it has any negative social consequences whatsoever. In fact as far as I’m aware, (though I readily admit I’m no expert), all available research indicates that children adopted by gay couples do as well, if not better, than the children of traditional families.

So why the hysteria? What is the difference between homosexuality and football? Both activities are enjoyed by some but not by others. Neither activity has ever been shown to do any harm to either society or the individual, (bar groin strains and twisted ankles, and football can be hazardous as well). Neither activity is compulsory. In both cases if you’re interested, you’re free to give it a try. If you’re not, nobody’s going to force you.

I’ll admit that one group is a bit poofy, and tend to prance about the place like a bunch of fairies. But hey; that’s football for you! If that doesn’t appeal to you, there’s always rugby.

Gravity Probe B confirms Einstein effects.

A recent experiment in space confirmed the phenomenon predicted by Einstein’s Theory of Relativity, namely that massive objects warp space around them.

(See the full story here http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-13286241).
This for me is a beautiful example of science at its best, and a wonderful contrast between the scientific approach and the religious approach.
The experiment was led by a man who is a passionate supporter and ardent admirer of Einstein, yet it set out to conduct an experiment which could have disproved Einstein’s theory, (as all scientific experiments do; they seek to refute, not confirm, a hypothesis).
The theory is believed not as an article of faith, or because people ‘feel’ it to be true, but because it has the preponderance of evidence behind it, and has been repeatedly tested and verified.
If Einstein’s theory was a religious article of faith then what would have happened? No testing would have been permitted, since we are not allowed to question, much less test, articles of religious dogma. Any who proposed a test would have been condemned as evil or as blasphemous.

Think I’m exaggerating? OK, how about we test the host before and after consecration. If, as catholics claim, it has physically transformed itself into the body of the being that created the universe then presumably some physical change should be detectable.I leave it to your imagination to picture the reaction of the faithful to the merest suggestion of such an experiment.
The weird thing about it is that if the hypothesis is correct, whether a scientific claim or a religious dogma, and the experiment is properly conducted, then the results should serve to confirm the theory.
Science does not assume, it tests.

Religion does not test, it insists.

Thankfully it’s science, not religion.

Preliminary results from the Large Hadron Collider suggest that the super-symmetry explanation of the missing mass in the universe is incorrect!

Supporters of super-symmetry have condemned the results as false and misleading, and have said that those who promote such findings are evil. A leading supporter of the theory has said ‘They can publish all the lies they want. But I know in the very fibre of my being that this theory is the explanation. No tests or evidence will ever convince me otherwise’.

Super-symmetry supporters have vowed to set up their own break-away group, and many now fear violent attacks on those who disagree with their views. Supporters say they find the latest claims about their theory deeply offensive and personally insulting, and have called for laws to be passed preventing criticism of super-symmetry.

Of course, none of this actually happened. Luckily this is science, not religion. In actual fact supporters of super-symmetry have said that the results are interesting and unexpected, but have accepted that their theory is incorrect, and say they must now go back and reconsider the problem.
Evidence is everything.

Atheists for the Hijab, (or at least for freedom of choice).

I know I’m going to find myself at variance with many non-believers on this one, but I fully support the right of Muslim women, (or anyone else who wants to), to wear the hijab. Or rather, I have deep misgivings about the growing tendency of states to pass laws prohibiting their use.

In effect this comes down to an attempt by the State to proscribe what clothes its citizens can and cannot wear, and that has to be a very worrying development. It is at variance with two of the fundamental values upon which western democracy is built; freedom of expression and freedom of conscience. It represents an attempt by one section of society to impose its views and values on another, and just as I would vehemently resist any attempts by a religious group to require others to conform to its beliefs or values, it has to be equally wrong for secular groups to seek to do the same.

Of course it goes without saying that no woman should be forced or coerced into wearing a hijab, or any other form of dress, and I would have no problem with any law which sought to uphold a woman’s right to refuse to wear a hijab. But to prevent those women who wish to wear a hijab from doing so is just as much an infringement of their liberty and invasion of their privacy.

I have yet to find a coherent or well-argued defense of such a law, or one which does not contain worrying undertones of bigotry or intolerance. Many such defences seem to be based on the assumption that no woman could possibly want to wear a hijab, and so any woman who does so has necessarily been coerced. But this approach is cultural arrogance at its worst. It assumes that all women must necessarily share the liberal values of those who would support such a law. I have lived and worked in muslim societies in the Middle East for many years, and in my experience many women actually want to wear the hijab, seeing it as an expression of their identity and culture.

Many women also see it as a religious imperative that they wear the hijab. As an atheist I find such beliefs nonsensical, but that does not give me the right to legally inhibit their expression.

I would have practical difficulties with such a  law as well. I’m not a muslim, but suppose I take a notion to go out wearing a hijab, just for the hell of it. Should I be legally prevented from doing so? Does the State have a right to limit my freedom in this regard?

Or what about my old Mum? She’s an old-fashioned catholic, and as such believes that she must wear a head-scarf when attending mass. Should she be prevented by law from doing so?

If the answer to these questions is ‘Yes’, then we see the degree to which such a law would restrict all our freedoms. If the answer is ‘No’, then we are left with the worrying but unavoidable conclusion that the law is intended to restrict the freedoms of muslim women only. So we are advocating the passing of restrictive laws aimed solely at a particular minority within society. I see no difference in principle between this and the Nuremberg Race Laws.

To paraphrase Noam Chomsky; freedom of expression must extend to the expression of views with which we completely disagree, or else it is meaningless.