Peg didn't want me to wear this shirt today because she didn't want me to dis my service. And the shirt might be interpreted that way - the Viet Nam war was not a game and the idea that we came in second place is undoubtedly troubling. But I'm an educator and it seems to me that the shirt provides an opportunity for education.

What lessons could this shirt teach? I think the primary lesson is - don't send us to fight a war that isn't justified (and Just). A corollary to that lesson is don't send us to fight a war that we don't intend to win. I might say don't send us to fight a war that can't be won, but sometimes a lost cause is worth fighting for. Truth be told, I'm not sure what "winning" looks like anyway.

I gave a talk about my time in Viet Nam at a local nursing home yesterday, during which I stated that one of the reasons I enlisted in the Marine Corps was to help the South Vietnamese, because I thought they wanted and needed our help. My first patrol showed me otherwise. Perhaps I should have realized that before, from all the news and opinion that was flying around in 1967. In fact, one of my friends said something along those lines, referencing Frances FitzGerald's excellent book Fire in the Lake. Only problem is - that book was published in 1971. I don't think the nature of that war was as clear to the average U.S. citizen as it should have been to the policy makers who sent us there.

I suppose that's another lesson from my shirt: keep a close eye on the people who are making the policies that result in wars like Viet Nam (are you listening, George W. Bush?).

I'm often asked how I feel about people who protested against the Viet Nam war, and I think most people who ask that question expect me to say that I despise those people. I don't. One of the freedoms we were supposed to be fighting for (perhaps the most important reason) is freedom of expression - freedom to criticize your government. That freedom means nothing unless people actually use it. I think that's another lesson from my shirt - and I think I'll spend some time in my classes today talking about those lessons.

"Boots on the ground"

There are certain phrases that rub me the wrong way, and this is one of them. Right now, we're in the midst of dealing with fundamentalist Muslims in the form of ISIS, and the concern expressed by almost everyone is "Are we going to have to have boots on the ground in Iraq again?" CEO's use the term as a way of showing that they "understand" what the average worker does in their companies, and I've heard it in lots of other contexts ever since the phrase cropped up. It pisses me off no end.

Here's why: there are people in those boots, and they are the ones getting blown up, or grievously wounded, or experiencing terror the likes of which no one should have to deal with. They'll live with that for the rest of their lives. "Boots on the ground" implies all this is just a bunch of footwear; it dehumanizes every person alluded to by that phrase.

We have a tendency to do that with any unpleasant reality. "Collateral damage" was a big one in my day - and it still is; implying that the use of military force *might* lead to some buildings being damaged somewhere that - oh shucks - we didn't mean to do that but it's the price of "doing business". Of course, what's hidden by that phrase are the people killed and injured because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. We're pretty good at disguising what we really mean with language.

While we're at it, the contention that the US isn't committing combat forces against ISIS at this stage denigrates the hazards the airmen doing the current bombing are facing. As a former "grunt" (now there's a euphemism that really does capture reality) I admit to some scorn for the flyboys because they don't necessarily see the reality of what they do; but they're in hazard's way like grunts and if that isn't combat, I don't know what is.

Sustainability and miracles

The latests Science arrived in my mailbox yesterday. Usually I'm too busy to read much of it, but this morning I decided to take a break and look it over. There's lots of good stuff in there, but the two things that caught my eye were sustainability and miracles.

Sustainability first. An editorial in this issue praised Pope Francis for his concern about the poor around the world and how environmental degradation affects those people, who have arguably had the least input in producing major problems such as climate change. A second article pointed out how religious institutions can have a dramatic favorable impact on these problems. In an earlier blog (a week ago, in fact - see Evolution Dreams) I argued that folks like Richard Dawkins, who contend that religion is a cancer and science is the only valid way of approaching the problems we face, were misguided at best. We need the moral authority of people like Pope Francis to help us make the best choices.

The second article might seem diametrically opposed to what I just wrote, as it's about an evolutionary biologist and linguist who has been investigating the origin and spread of human language and animal cognition. Russell Gray of the University of Auckland has a pet phrase - no miracles - which he uses when addressing what were previously regarded as questions beyond the reach of scientific investigation. He's using modern evolutionary analysis tools to address questions of the origin of human languages and the origin of "intelligence" in non-human animals.

The "no miracles" part is guaranteed to rub some religious folks the wrong way, but in context what he's saying makes sense. In fact, that's how science makes progress; previously unsolvable (by scientific means) problems become tractable when a clever scientist comes along and figures out a way to address them.

What about religious miracles? Well, science can't really help us there. Was Jesus divine? Sorry, no help. However, I'm in the racket I'm in because I regard life as "miraculous".

Evolution dreams

I woke up this morning after a dream about me teaching evolution and inciting a riot. Well, I do teach evolution and so far I haven't incited a riot - keep your fingers crossed! But my dream actually turned out ok; I managed to calm down the two gentlemen who were breaking windows and throwing things and I got the rest of the town to come in and settle down so we could talk about it. I really wish that could happen in real life, but I don't see any obvious signs that it will.

I think fear drives the opposition to evolution, as well as the reaction of hard-core evolutionists like Richard Dawkins. I think those who oppose evolution fear moral decline and consigning people to hell. Those who react so strongly against anti-evolutionists fear a world where science is reviled and society degenerates into a "dark age".

I'm not sure what to make of such fears. I don't believe in a sort of hell where bad people or non-believers "go" when they die (though I certainly believe in the kind of hell we humans inflict on one another - I've experienced it) and I don't believe that evolution leads inevitably to moral decline (it may even explain where our moral sense comes from - an even more frightening consequence for anti-evolutionists). But I don't know how to convince those who oppose evolution that neither hell nor moral decline are consequences of teaching evolution.

As for the Richard Dawkins of the world, I feel that if science loses its place in modern society, it will be the fault of those who believe that science is the only valid way to learn things. Einstein is often quoted in this regard: "... science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind." and many folks have raised that quote to support their view (a view I share) that the two spheres of human thought are both necessary. Jerry Coyne (who might be a "Dawkinsian") wrote an article disputing this view here.

Having read Coyne's book (Why Evolution is True), where this article comes from, I have to say I think Coyne is wrong. Science cannot possibly address what is good or bad, and we definitely need help in doing that. It seems to me that religion and philosophy are the only two spheres of human thought making an effort to help us discern "good" from "evil", and that there's no more important work for us to do than that.

Will machines take over the Earth?

I was looking at Crisis News Network (motto: We print all the trivial news about celebrities and none about stuff that matters) and there was an article posing the idea that "Terminators" could be real. I read it and found it was by a researcher at Oxford regarding artificial intelligence and the possibility that machines would soon outstrip human intelligence, possibly with a bad outcome for us. What caught my eye, and the reason I'm writing about this, is the author's reference to evolutionary intelligence.

The article was in some ways simply a promo piece for a book the author wrote (the author is Nick Bostrom - you can look it up on Amazon), but the notion of evolutionary intelligence is worth considering. The book I'm using in my "Evolution for Everyone" class notes that computer scientists are using evolutionary algorithms to develop programs much faster than they could do so by "hand" - and the programs so developed are often better than those written by a human programmer. The fear expressed by Bostrom is that such programs could reach a tipping point where the machines writing the programs would begin to alter the environment in a way that suits them and not us. The idea that we need to impart wisdom to computers rather than simply "intelligence" struck me as worthy.

His book received positive reviews, so I may check it out. The theme that we often develop technologies that seem "good" and then turn out to have some major downsides is not new, but it becomes increasingly dangerous as those technologies become more powerful. Evolution is the most powerful organic force we know of, and we tinker with it without having the wisdom to handle it wisely.

God help me, I'm about to teach about "protists" in zoology! Molecular methods have taught us that "protists" is a term without meaning in the evolutionary scheme of things, but the term won't die since it's a "convenient" way to talk about everything that isn't a plant, an animal or a fungus. But it leads to all kinds of confusion so I personally doubt the educational value of such a term.

For example, the text I'm using insists on calling Opisthokonts a "phylum" (opisthokonts include animals and fungi) and then turns around and calls the animals a "kingdom"! You can't have a "kingdom" as a group contained within a "phylum". Furthermore, in a couple of places unicellular critters with no close connection to animals are called "animals". There's something about zoologists that doesn't let them give up critters that used to be thought of as "animal-like", but clearly aren't. Maybe it's the collection mentality.

Speaking of the collection mentality, a group I'm associated with is arguing about moves to have the Monarch butterfly declared a threatened species. Beyond the difficulty of determining what "threatened" means, I'm sure part of the disagreement stems from collectors who fear another encroachment on their ability to collect. Already in many European countries one cannot collect moths and butterflies without some sort of permit from the government, and those permits are often quite difficult to obtain.

I find myself torn on this issue. I applaud the drive to preserve nature, and I think collectors can be unconscious about the impact of their activities, but really? Banning a kid from picking up a net and collecting some common butterflies or moths helps conservation efforts how?

A new academic year

Well, the big news is that we now have a new academic building, named after the principle donor, Dr. Sanders. I taught with Dick the whole time he was at Eureka College, mostly in western civilization and culture. If any alums are reading this, and you were in that course "back in the day", you know what I'm talking about.

In those days, the course was basically a history course, so Dick took the lion's share of the lectures, which was quite a job. Whenever one of the other team members did a lecture, he always took the time to write a note thanking that person for her/his efforts. Pretty thoughtful, and I'm embarrassed to say that I never did the same.

The big biological news is the Ebola outbreak in west Africa, which has killed at least 50% of the people who contract the disease. This may be one of the worst diseases (in terms of mortality rate) in the whole world. However, it's not easy to become infected; one needs contact with an infected individual's bodily fluids. If the disease ever became infective via aerosol, we'd be up a creek without a paddle. We have vaccines which protect us against some viruses, but for the most part we're helpless against viral infections. Many people believe that antibiotics also kill viruses, but that is not true (otherwise, we'd be shipping tons of antibiotics to west Africa right now).

And speaking of vaccines, the idea that vaccination "causes" autism still won't die. A recent report, since removed, indicated a higher risk of autism for African American male children who had been vaccinated with MMR. You can imagine how the anti-vaccine crowd responded to that! Here's the deal: nothing is ever proven in science. So while the bulk of evidence supports the idea that vaccination does not "cause" autism, the question must forever remain open. Science tells us that our best avenue to avoid crippling and potentially fatal viral illnesses is to vaccinate our children; the risk of autism from such vaccinations is vanishingly small. Which certainly doesn't help a parent who has a child with autism and wonders what could have been done to prevent it.

To Kill A Mockingbird

Well, I actually didn't kill a Mockingbird, but I'm reminded of this film (and book) because we have a pair of finches who have nested on the light by our garage. They've raised one brood and are nearing the end of raising a second brood in the same nest. I feel I should name them: Atticus, Scout, Jem and Dill - but of course there are more finches than names.

Peg and I attended a natural history writing workshop last week and the leader suggested we start each entry with a Haiku (loosely defined - basically just a 3-line poem). Mine was

The finches are trying for a second brood

The first offspring left 2 weeks ago, leaving behind a perfectly good nest

Why not fill it with life again?

So, anyway, the finches have been on my mind and I've been taking pictures virtually every day to chronicle their development. I've posted a couple of these photos chronicling the second brood below:

This is the time that many birds are raising their young. So far, I've seen White-breasted nuthatches, American Robins and Grackles either visiting their nests or feeding fledglings. In some cases, I've seen parent/offspring conflict. Briefly, the fledglings might "like" the parents to keep feeding them for a long time, while the parents might "like" to have the fledglings fend for themselves as soon as they are able. I've often seen fledglings chasing their parents begging for food while the parents try to get as far away as possible!

I've gotten a lot of nice pictures of critters at the Lake over the last couple of weeks, though my quest to film an Oriole has so far failed (the darn things sing from the top of the trees, hidden by lots of leaves). And I did my first butterfly Pollard walk for the Illinois Butterfly Monitoring Network. More later! Until then, get out and enjoy our natural riches!

SPIDERS!!!

Yesterday, while doing a bit of yard work, I noticed a largish jumping spider (family Salticidae) on the door of the sun room. I ran and got my camera and took a couple of close-ups. Shortly thereafter, a different (smaller) species showed up on the opposite door, so I took a couple of shots of that one.

I really like jumping spiders, which puts me at odds with all other members of my family. After all, who could like a spider that jumps? Well, I do, because jumping spiders have a bit of personality. When I wiggle my finger at one, it will turn and look at me, almost like a pet dog. Sometimes, I can get them to jump onto my finger.

One reason they're so responsive is that they have pretty good vision. Most species have eight eyes, some of them quite large, and those eyes are capable of image formation, like ours. It's an important adaptation for these spiders because they're tiny little wolves - actively tracking down their food and jumping on it rather than ambushing it or trapping it in a web. Good vision is a prerequisite for such a life; thus their attention to my wiggling finger.

Reflecting on this, I wondered why most of humanity has such a deep, innate fear of spiders. Dangerous spiders are few and far between and are responsible for very few human deaths in any particular year. In our area, I've never seen a dangerous species (black widow - several species; brown recluse - several species) though I suppose the occasional brown recluse could find it's way into a home if someone accidentally brought one with them in a move from the southern U.S. In fact, no one really has a good explanation for this exaggerated fear. One possibility is that a fear of spiders was adaptive in ancestral humans, as people who were so afraid of spiders would make every effort to avoid contact with them and thus avoid potentially deadly bites. But even in our ancestral days, encounters with deadly spiders were likely very few and far between compared with other more significant dangers and an unreasonable fear would have been maladaptive rather than adaptive. It could be a cultural thing, as many humans who live in areas with spiders far more dangerous than any we would encounter regularly catch spiders and use them for food. In any case, the only spiders around here that I kill if they get in the house are large wolf spiders.

A new beginning

I've decided to change the title of my blog from "Random thoughts about evolution, war and bugs" because the last thing on that title is what I'm most interested in. I think I went with "evolution" because there's so much controversy (in the public mind) about that subject and I thought I could get some interest by blogging about a "controversial" subject (on which I, of course, have THE answer). My experience in Viet Nam was an obvious choice for the second topic, but - let's face it - that war is long over for everyone else and I don't feel as compelled to write about it as I once was. But bugs - now there's something I've been interested in my whole life.

Bugs, of course, are but a small part of natural history, but they're the critters that led me in to my interest in that subject, so I hope by changing focus, I'll be a true blogger and make entries at least once a week instead of once every 3 or 4 months.

So, natural history. I just got off the phone with a freelance journalist writing about the decline of Monarch butterflies. Truth is, there is no simple answer to that decline. Personally, I think the reduction of the overwintering colony site is a major factor; and the continued use of "round-up ready" GMO's certainly hasn't helped. However, I did see my first Monarch of the year yesterday May 20, 2014. And the first time I saw Monarchs last year was August 1st. I take that as a hopeful sign.

We went for a walk on the south side of the lake today and heard orioles, saw lots of goslings and a batch of mallard ducklings, blue jays and a great shot of bluebirds. The finches are nesting again by our garage after successfully fledging 3 - 4 babies earlier this year. It feels like summer out there today, but the temperature is supposed to drop tonight.

Yesterday, on campus, I photographed a number of ants and a few other things, including a red-bellied woodpecker. I'll post some pictures when I get them processed.