Save the planet — procreate less!

Travis and Sadiye Rieder read a book with their 2-year-old daughter, Sinem, in their Maryland home

You can drive an electric vehicle powered by rooftop solar panels, replace your old appliances and light bulbs with energy-sipping versions, recycle compulsively, compost, give up meat, eschew air travel, buy used-everything, make your own sandals out of old tires. You can do these and all sorts of other things in your personal quest to lower your carbon footprint. Doing so will indeed mitigate to some tiny degree the climate change that, despite the best efforts of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, is hurtling us into a slew of potentially catastrophic unknowns as this century steams ahead.

But if you truly care about the climate and the future of a human civilization that developed in the current temperature regime, you could do something that has a much bigger impact: have one less kid. Or more precisely, says Johns Hopkins University philosopher and bioethicist Travis Rieder, one-half less kid. (Those who have reared children would recommend the top, rather than the bottom, half). [more]

March for Science Denver 2017

March for Science Denver 2017

It’s a bit embarrassing to say, but I attended my first political march just a couple of weeks back — March for Science Denver. Brought along the girls and their good pal Laine. They were surprised that someone as open/occasionally strident about politics hadn’t put feet to concrete for political purposes before. I said, no, you’ve got me by 35 years on this one.

Part of the reason I hadn’t attended a march is that I’d attended marches, but as a newspaper reporter covering them. As a reporter, your strident opinions/biases are kept quiet, generally by policy (political contributions were, for example, forbidden by Scripps’ scripture, the then-owner of the Daily Camera).

Anyway, we hand-made signs and last-minute Saran-wrapped them, not having interpreted the weather forecast as accurately as might have, for example, Mike Nelson, who gave a great kickoff speech.

I’ve not found crowed estimates, but I’d say 20,000, minimum. Many people. And many great signs. A good toe-dipping in fighting-the-good-fight grassroots protest. I took a lot of photos; a selection below.

Fear-Ignorance-Hate chemistry graphic

The signs at a march on science are bound to be good (and geeky). We weren’t disappointed.

 

March for Science Denver 2017

Folks gathered beforehand at the Civic Center Park amphitheater.

 

March for Science Denver 2017

Junior scientists were also represented.

 

March for Science Denver 2017

This was, obviously, as much protest against our administration’s anti-science bent as a celebration of empirical methods.

 

March for Science Denver 2017

This one I had to read twice.

 

March for Science Denver 2017

German was represented, even. (“Trump is dangerous to our planet”)

 

March for Science Denver 2017

This is far more constructive than, for example, “I’m with stupid.”

 

March for Science Denver 2017

Down 17th Street

 

The home team’s signs were constructed of cardboard with paper glued on, affixed to 1/2 inch PVC pipe that, before I’d sawed shorter, had served as misconceived structural elements of a hastily erected backyard sun shade some years back. I glue-gunned them to the cardboard with enough epoxy to hold together a Boeing 787. Nonrecyclable plastic wrap protected from nonexistent precip.

 

March for Science Denver 2017

Another good sign.

 

March for Science Denver 2017

My contribution to the visual clutter

 

March for Science Denver 2017

The Groundhog Day meme made an appearance. (“Only in America do we accept weather predictions from a rodent but deny climate change evidence from scientists.”)

 

March for Science Denver 2017

After a quick online search, it appears that this gentleman’s sign refers to the third derivative of the position function, which is “jerk.” 

 

March for Science Denver 2017

Beaker makes his beeping and meeping opinions known.

 

March for Science Denver 2017

More paid protesters (in Smashburgers, after the event) before the Colorado statehouse.

The former president of Estonia: This means (cyber) war!

The Estonians moved a statue; the Russians launched a new form of warfare. Now, a decade later, the man who was president of Estonia at the time proposes a new sort of alliance to counter a threat that has spread far from his Baltic state.

Toomas Hendrik Ilves had been president of Estonia for all of six months in April 2007 when his government moved the “Bronze Soldier” Soviet war memorial from a small park in central Tallinn to a nearby military cemetery. The Russian government responded with a distributed denial of services (DDoS) attack.

At the time, the Estonian defense minister said this: “Not a single NATO defense minister would define a cyber-attack as a clear military action at present. However, this matter needs to be resolved in the near future.”

Ten years later it hasn’t been resolved. Despite a mountain of recent, suspected-and-proven Russian meddling in democratic politics of the United States, France, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, the European Parliament and elsewhere, the question remains. Ilves, who served as Estonian president through 2016 and is now a visiting fellow at Stanford University, says it’s time to do something about it. [more]

Top 10 things I’m doing during the first 100 days

first100days

10. Memorizing the lyrics to the Beatles song, “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da.”

9. Writing a long essay on the Hamlet-Bojack Horseman linkages.

8. Issuing executive orders around the house, principally to the dog.

7. Intentionally mismatching my daughters’ socks.

6. Attempting to make the sound of one hand clapping.

5. Teaching my Google Home device German.

4. Polishing my wife’s left and right shoes in slightly different hues to see if she’ll notice.

3. Chopping alley ice and sliding the chunks into sunny patches even though it will eventually melt on its own.

2. Muttering apocalyptically.

1. Awaiting the findings of the new administration’s vital voter-fraud investigation.

The arrogance of ignorance

It’s become accepted in many quarters to associate the wielding of facts or knowledge with arrogance. Typically the term is applied to political liberals – coastal elites, the blue-state bloviators, whatever one might call all the annoying know-it-alls who purportedly disdain the Rust Belt working-folk and get their information from sources not owned by Rupert Murdoch’s ilk.

But the politically ignorant – the sorts of people most likely to be deceived by demagogues and liars – have an arrogance of their own. Some might just dismiss it as wishful thinking: for example, the apparently widespread conviction that, say, the political system would be best off after a shakeup by an outsider – regardless of the source or dispositional/intellectual/experiential/moral/philosophical qualities of that outsider.

But it’s not just wishful thinking. It’s a blind faith in the righteousness of one’s own beliefs coupled with a total disinterest in the heft of the factual hull of those beliefs amid the high seas of reality. It’s a deep sense of the superiority of one’s own opinions, coupled with a blind dismissal of any facts that countervail those opinions. That’s much more sinister in this than mere ignorance.

In ten days, we embark into political terra incognita based not on ignorance, but on the arrogance with which it has locked arms.