Today, 23rd February at 9:45 a.m., Simon Singh's supporters are gathering outside the Royal Courts of Justice, Strand, London WC2A 2LL. Anyone can go along; and anyone can hear the appeal, which takes place at 10:30 - just under 3 hours from now.
Simon is in remarkably good spirits, tweeting about the London Word Festival (which looks fun!), and thanking people for their support. (I love Twitter.) I admire his bravery. The boss I was describing yesterday also attempted to take me to court for "theft", i.e. sending one or two e-mails to my friends during the 7 months I was lucky enough to work in his office with permission he subsequently denied giving me. Even that piece of petty idiocy was terrifying. But then I was only 18. It's wonderful the strength people can develop. The British Chiropractic Association say that Simon has rounded up a bunch of malicious supporters to get revenge. I, and I'm hardly alone, say that Simon has turned their mean-spirited and illiberal repressiveness into a wonderfully positive campaign, a campaign that seriously needs to happen in view of the English Libel Laws. It is mortifying that the wealthy can pop along to our country to sue people halfway across the world, and that the burden of proof is on the defendant. This had to change - and it is now changing!
For the latest news, Jack of Kent and Crispian Jago have, as ever, written great posts with, as ever, varying degrees of seriousness. And (update) here's a wonderful article in the Times: "Test medicine in the lab, not in the court" by Raymond Tallis. This wonderful sentence jumped out at me: '“Tested in court by the most powerful lawyers” is not an exactly reassuring statement on the patient information leaflet.' Whoopee!
Sense About Science, among so many others, have done a wonderful job in raising awareness. And Simon has had an idea to send more ripples of awareness through the population. I understand we're well over 30,000 signatures now . . .
Please sign the petition to reform libel laws. Doesn't matter if you're English, or live in England, or not - they are currently available to be hijacked by anyone of any nation, regardless of whether or not this is suitable or just. And good luck Simon today!
Tuesday, 23 February 2010
Monday, 22 February 2010
The Ticking Bomb and the Tooth Fairy
When I was very small, my mother told me that flies were bad. When I was also very small, I think it was "Black Beauty" in which I was very surprised to read a passage in which one boy beats up another boy for being cruel to flies. When I got older, I suddenly remembered that I used to think it was all right to be cruel to flies and general "bad" creatures, and felt shocked and sick with myself.
A lot more years later, I so often hear or read something like: "Yeah, that's a great theory, but real life isn't as nice as that" as an excuse for such things as cruelty. The implication is that innocence, immaturity, weakness, a general lack of thought, is the only place for goodness - while real thought and ability is the place for wrongdoing; and idealists should grow up, stop making others feel guilty, and join in. I suppose one could say that this idea goes back to the Garden of Eden, and probably many years before that. Personally, I'd say that it's the other way round.
A week ago, Bruce Anderson wrote an editorial in the Independent that caused a furore whose like I have rarely seen. He claimed: "We not only have a right to use torture. We have a duty".
He begins by detailing the revoltingness of torture, rather as a boss I once had used to begin trying to order my 18-year-old self to "grow up" and approve of corruptness and dishonesty by lecturing me on the damage that corruptness and dishonesty can do. Possibly this introduction is intended to forestall uncomfortable retorts, and make the opposition feel thoroughly depressed.
He then goes on to claim that torture provides us with useful information, that "although we find torture repulsive, it does not follow that those who are tasked with governing Pakistan could safely dispense with it", and that "we should be grateful for the Pakistanis' efforts on our behalf". He claims that America is too sophisticated to need to use torture at present, though it might in the future, if presented with the famous "ticking bomb" scenario.
This "ticking bomb scenario" is the crux of his argument: "the intelligence chiefs, grey and drawn from lack of sleep, inform the Prime Minister, ditto, that it seems almost certain that a nuclear device is primed to explode in the next few hours. There is a man in custody who probably knows where it is. They are ready to use whatever methods are necessary to extract the information..." Anderson favours waterboarding. He also favours the torturing, if possible, of the prisoner's wife and children.
The general idea of the article is that it is better to torture one person, or a few, than to allow "the ticking bomb" to explode and kill millions. He says what so many people say, to make the idealists feel immature: "There is nothing to be gained from refusing to face facts".
Very well. Let us actually start thinking, and examine some facts.
Of course, we don't have very many facts to hand - which is why, for example, we are simply supposed to take it on trust that the information gained by the Pakistani torturers or Guantanamo is useful, accurate, worthwhile, and could not be obtained by other means. I don't take that on trust. Anyone being tortured will eventually say absolutely anything to get the agony to stop. They will sign false confessions, they will probably end up babbling nonsense. And of course any terrorist with half a grain of sense will have a good misleading cover story or two. Meanwhile, what is the actual likelihood of knowing that somebody has planted a bomb, and while you don't know where the bomb is you do capture the right person? If there is one incident of this ever happening (TV shows do not count), I would be very interested to know. Frankly, I doubt that it has ever happened or ever will.
. . . Where do I get all these "facts"? From logic, from the news, from the Internet - from, I hope, growing up and understanding human beings. Even from being bullied at school, where I was once thrust up against a fence, had my arms pinned behind my back, and had a lit cigarette shoved into my mouth, and this was a fairly normal day; and at the office when I was 18, where I eventually found it less trouble to admit that it was entirely my fault that the boss had made an idiot of himself or trashed all the company files, than to tell the truth and be disciplined even further for arguing.
And from books, of course. I recommend "The Railway Man" by Eric Lomax, which I found by reading The Independent's version of this haunting article about Nagase Takashi, a wartime interpreter for Japanese torturers and who has spent the rest of his life in repentance. Isabel Allende's books describe how Pinochet's Chile used torture to terrorize and repress its citizens. Thomas Powers's "Heisenberg's War" reminds us of the horrors Fritz Houtermans went through at the hands of the Soviets, who thought him a German spy, and the Nazis, who thought him a Soviet spy. The former told him untruthfully that they had captured his wife and children, at which point he signed all the confessions they wished. Anhua Gao's "To the Edge of the Sky" tells the story of interrogation in Mao's China; how, having nothing to tell them, but knowing they would not let her go until they had a name, she simply gave them a name of a woman she did not like - and it worked. And Sattareh Farman Farmaian's "Daughter of Persia", the best book I have ever read, shows us only too clearly what it was like living under a reign of constant terror of imprisonment and torture in the Shah's Iran.
Torture is never one isolated incident. Anderson's article makes it sound like one; offers a choice between one wrong and another. But it doesn't work like that. The torturers, those who ordered the torture, and the victim and their community, are all a part of it. How many countries whose governments use torture are forgiven and respected by the rest of the world? A torture victim who may not have been radicalised before capture is far likelier to do so afterwards, as are their family, friends, and perhaps whole country. After the ultimate suffering and humiliation, they will probably be a broken person. A broken person cannot trust others, form relationships, or, probably, hold down a job and be a productive citizen. Pure cold selfish economics should decree that breaking down a person in such a way leaves the state an expensive mess to clean up. You've also taught them torture, which they might go on to use on others. To say "they do it, so why shouldn't we" simply says, "We do it to them, so they can do what they like to us". And I have seen people argue that a terrorist whose intention is to blow up everyone surrounding them has given up their human rights - whether or not that is so, that does not mean we have given up our human responsibilities.
Just as I disagree with the message of the Garden of Eden, I also disagree that "sin" is something we carry around inside us until it is extracted by a mythological being, rather as detox purports to purge us of past burgers and fries. And yet it is rather a good metaphor, because a torturer must carry what they've done inside them forever. They might become a Nagase; which would certainly defeat the government's purpose, so they'd have to employ someone else. More likely, they'd have to desensitise themselves to what they'd done. They might become lost and withdrawn. They might grow to hate themselves. They might enjoy their work, the implications of which are sinister. What kind of a work culture would it be, having colleagues like that? Would they do it to each other; would they bring it out of the workplace, perhaps? And once a moral boundary has been crossed, how far do we go beyond it? Would the government start setting targets for how much information must be got out of suspects per year, requiring arbitrary torture? At what point, in any case, do you decide you can stop torturing someone because they've told you everything you want; at what point, indeed, do you decide that torture is necessary?
The comments pages (12 pages, by now) are heartwarming. To read a few of them right after the article, I felt like despairing at the human race. To read most of them, however, affirms my faith in it, and my hopefulness at learning and teaching us not only citizen science and working together, but to choose the right thing. Many people wrote movingly that they would prefer to die in a terrorist's bomb than live under a state that tortured. Others suggested that a good way to avoid the need for torture, and fear of bombs, is not to invade other people's countries. The Independent's letters have been pretty good too; though why they call it a "debate" I know not, given the unity of the writers! They'll probably be deeply buried soon, so I'll link them: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday - in which one of mine got published, sarcastically (I couldn't resist) comparing the "ticking bomb scenario" to the tooth fairy telling a reader to rape a child in order to bring about world peace. I hope it is clear by now that, put in a sort of vaccuum, one might choose to sacrifice the child - but to put it into the context of the whole world, it's obviously nonsense. (The rapist and raped are not exactly in a state of peace for starters.)
Some Twitterers were angry enough to set up a Facebook group against the torture of children. One letter was jointly from Amnesty International and the Medical Foundation for the Care of Victims of Torture, the very group that helped Eric Lomax. I looked up the latter and was very pleased that I had. The "Torture Myths" section is particularly well worth a read . . .
At first, I was nauseated that the Indy could have published such a hideous, violent piece; now, like one of the letter writers, I am pleased they did - for the way to defeat a hateful argument is to expose it, and answer it. Torture is in every way wrong, and arguments against it are not merely liberal, self-indulgent wooliness, nor childlike innocence that the thoughtful outgrow: both human and logical arguments answer it clearly. For those of it who accuse me of "not thinking", I can safely respond, "Think yourself."
A lot more years later, I so often hear or read something like: "Yeah, that's a great theory, but real life isn't as nice as that" as an excuse for such things as cruelty. The implication is that innocence, immaturity, weakness, a general lack of thought, is the only place for goodness - while real thought and ability is the place for wrongdoing; and idealists should grow up, stop making others feel guilty, and join in. I suppose one could say that this idea goes back to the Garden of Eden, and probably many years before that. Personally, I'd say that it's the other way round.
A week ago, Bruce Anderson wrote an editorial in the Independent that caused a furore whose like I have rarely seen. He claimed: "We not only have a right to use torture. We have a duty".
He begins by detailing the revoltingness of torture, rather as a boss I once had used to begin trying to order my 18-year-old self to "grow up" and approve of corruptness and dishonesty by lecturing me on the damage that corruptness and dishonesty can do. Possibly this introduction is intended to forestall uncomfortable retorts, and make the opposition feel thoroughly depressed.
He then goes on to claim that torture provides us with useful information, that "although we find torture repulsive, it does not follow that those who are tasked with governing Pakistan could safely dispense with it", and that "we should be grateful for the Pakistanis' efforts on our behalf". He claims that America is too sophisticated to need to use torture at present, though it might in the future, if presented with the famous "ticking bomb" scenario.
This "ticking bomb scenario" is the crux of his argument: "the intelligence chiefs, grey and drawn from lack of sleep, inform the Prime Minister, ditto, that it seems almost certain that a nuclear device is primed to explode in the next few hours. There is a man in custody who probably knows where it is. They are ready to use whatever methods are necessary to extract the information..." Anderson favours waterboarding. He also favours the torturing, if possible, of the prisoner's wife and children.
The general idea of the article is that it is better to torture one person, or a few, than to allow "the ticking bomb" to explode and kill millions. He says what so many people say, to make the idealists feel immature: "There is nothing to be gained from refusing to face facts".
Very well. Let us actually start thinking, and examine some facts.
Of course, we don't have very many facts to hand - which is why, for example, we are simply supposed to take it on trust that the information gained by the Pakistani torturers or Guantanamo is useful, accurate, worthwhile, and could not be obtained by other means. I don't take that on trust. Anyone being tortured will eventually say absolutely anything to get the agony to stop. They will sign false confessions, they will probably end up babbling nonsense. And of course any terrorist with half a grain of sense will have a good misleading cover story or two. Meanwhile, what is the actual likelihood of knowing that somebody has planted a bomb, and while you don't know where the bomb is you do capture the right person? If there is one incident of this ever happening (TV shows do not count), I would be very interested to know. Frankly, I doubt that it has ever happened or ever will.
. . . Where do I get all these "facts"? From logic, from the news, from the Internet - from, I hope, growing up and understanding human beings. Even from being bullied at school, where I was once thrust up against a fence, had my arms pinned behind my back, and had a lit cigarette shoved into my mouth, and this was a fairly normal day; and at the office when I was 18, where I eventually found it less trouble to admit that it was entirely my fault that the boss had made an idiot of himself or trashed all the company files, than to tell the truth and be disciplined even further for arguing.
And from books, of course. I recommend "The Railway Man" by Eric Lomax, which I found by reading The Independent's version of this haunting article about Nagase Takashi, a wartime interpreter for Japanese torturers and who has spent the rest of his life in repentance. Isabel Allende's books describe how Pinochet's Chile used torture to terrorize and repress its citizens. Thomas Powers's "Heisenberg's War" reminds us of the horrors Fritz Houtermans went through at the hands of the Soviets, who thought him a German spy, and the Nazis, who thought him a Soviet spy. The former told him untruthfully that they had captured his wife and children, at which point he signed all the confessions they wished. Anhua Gao's "To the Edge of the Sky" tells the story of interrogation in Mao's China; how, having nothing to tell them, but knowing they would not let her go until they had a name, she simply gave them a name of a woman she did not like - and it worked. And Sattareh Farman Farmaian's "Daughter of Persia", the best book I have ever read, shows us only too clearly what it was like living under a reign of constant terror of imprisonment and torture in the Shah's Iran.
Torture is never one isolated incident. Anderson's article makes it sound like one; offers a choice between one wrong and another. But it doesn't work like that. The torturers, those who ordered the torture, and the victim and their community, are all a part of it. How many countries whose governments use torture are forgiven and respected by the rest of the world? A torture victim who may not have been radicalised before capture is far likelier to do so afterwards, as are their family, friends, and perhaps whole country. After the ultimate suffering and humiliation, they will probably be a broken person. A broken person cannot trust others, form relationships, or, probably, hold down a job and be a productive citizen. Pure cold selfish economics should decree that breaking down a person in such a way leaves the state an expensive mess to clean up. You've also taught them torture, which they might go on to use on others. To say "they do it, so why shouldn't we" simply says, "We do it to them, so they can do what they like to us". And I have seen people argue that a terrorist whose intention is to blow up everyone surrounding them has given up their human rights - whether or not that is so, that does not mean we have given up our human responsibilities.
Just as I disagree with the message of the Garden of Eden, I also disagree that "sin" is something we carry around inside us until it is extracted by a mythological being, rather as detox purports to purge us of past burgers and fries. And yet it is rather a good metaphor, because a torturer must carry what they've done inside them forever. They might become a Nagase; which would certainly defeat the government's purpose, so they'd have to employ someone else. More likely, they'd have to desensitise themselves to what they'd done. They might become lost and withdrawn. They might grow to hate themselves. They might enjoy their work, the implications of which are sinister. What kind of a work culture would it be, having colleagues like that? Would they do it to each other; would they bring it out of the workplace, perhaps? And once a moral boundary has been crossed, how far do we go beyond it? Would the government start setting targets for how much information must be got out of suspects per year, requiring arbitrary torture? At what point, in any case, do you decide you can stop torturing someone because they've told you everything you want; at what point, indeed, do you decide that torture is necessary?
The comments pages (12 pages, by now) are heartwarming. To read a few of them right after the article, I felt like despairing at the human race. To read most of them, however, affirms my faith in it, and my hopefulness at learning and teaching us not only citizen science and working together, but to choose the right thing. Many people wrote movingly that they would prefer to die in a terrorist's bomb than live under a state that tortured. Others suggested that a good way to avoid the need for torture, and fear of bombs, is not to invade other people's countries. The Independent's letters have been pretty good too; though why they call it a "debate" I know not, given the unity of the writers! They'll probably be deeply buried soon, so I'll link them: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday - in which one of mine got published, sarcastically (I couldn't resist) comparing the "ticking bomb scenario" to the tooth fairy telling a reader to rape a child in order to bring about world peace. I hope it is clear by now that, put in a sort of vaccuum, one might choose to sacrifice the child - but to put it into the context of the whole world, it's obviously nonsense. (The rapist and raped are not exactly in a state of peace for starters.)
Some Twitterers were angry enough to set up a Facebook group against the torture of children. One letter was jointly from Amnesty International and the Medical Foundation for the Care of Victims of Torture, the very group that helped Eric Lomax. I looked up the latter and was very pleased that I had. The "Torture Myths" section is particularly well worth a read . . .
At first, I was nauseated that the Indy could have published such a hideous, violent piece; now, like one of the letter writers, I am pleased they did - for the way to defeat a hateful argument is to expose it, and answer it. Torture is in every way wrong, and arguments against it are not merely liberal, self-indulgent wooliness, nor childlike innocence that the thoughtful outgrow: both human and logical arguments answer it clearly. For those of it who accuse me of "not thinking", I can safely respond, "Think yourself."
Sunday, 14 February 2010
The Mathematician's Valentine, etc.
Yes, I really will type up my Astrofest notes soon!
In the meantime - you must seriously check out the Mathematician's Valentine. Shapes, folds, Mobius-strips-turned-no-longer-Mobius-strips, graphs, equations, and finally sweets to fall back on - plus the, er, true heart-throb, fail-safe, sweep-'em-off-their feet poem:
(I suppose I should add that no really mathematically inclined person I've showed it to seems impressed yet. But I loved it.)
To mark the occasion of today, or probably rather choosing today as an excellent opportunity to cover something I hadn't realised was regarded as a long-standing mystery, ZookeeperChris wrote an Object of the Day about "The Heart Galaxy", or SDSS 587729227151704160.
If you're more patient with mysterious computer simulations than me, you'll do much better at the Galaxy Zoo Mergers project,which is featuring this galaxy today. Chris has a Masters student named Georgia Barrie studying the rings, who tells us that she will be sharing the results of the world's largest ring catalogue with us soon. Good to meet you Georgia, and I look forward to it!
And totally off-topic but not least, many congratulations to Zookeeper Karen, who's just produced her 2nd addition to her family!
In the meantime - you must seriously check out the Mathematician's Valentine. Shapes, folds, Mobius-strips-turned-no-longer-Mobius-strips, graphs, equations, and finally sweets to fall back on - plus the, er, true heart-throb, fail-safe, sweep-'em-off-their feet poem:
Roses are red.
Violets are approximately blue.
A paracompact manifold with a Lorentzian metric,
can be a spacetime, if it has dimension greater than or equal to two.
Violets are approximately blue.
A paracompact manifold with a Lorentzian metric,
can be a spacetime, if it has dimension greater than or equal to two.
(I suppose I should add that no really mathematically inclined person I've showed it to seems impressed yet. But I loved it.)
To mark the occasion of today, or probably rather choosing today as an excellent opportunity to cover something I hadn't realised was regarded as a long-standing mystery, ZookeeperChris wrote an Object of the Day about "The Heart Galaxy", or SDSS 587729227151704160.
If you're more patient with mysterious computer simulations than me, you'll do much better at the Galaxy Zoo Mergers project,which is featuring this galaxy today. Chris has a Masters student named Georgia Barrie studying the rings, who tells us that she will be sharing the results of the world's largest ring catalogue with us soon. Good to meet you Georgia, and I look forward to it!
And totally off-topic but not least, many congratulations to Zookeeper Karen, who's just produced her 2nd addition to her family!
Wednesday, 3 February 2010
Homeopathic Overdose Story in the Western Telegraph
The article about my homeopathic overdose is now in the Western Telegraph, our local newspaper. Check out the online version as the paper version has a photo of me looking extremely silly! Have this nice picture of the Town Centre instead, taken from PBASE. Boots is right behind the Clock Tower.
A very nice beginning!
Many thanks to Katy Woodhouse for interviewing me and writing the article! They didn't go into the science - I guess there wasn't room - so I did that in the comments for them.
Hope you enjoy it!
Update: By midnight, it appears to be the most read and commented on story! Though perhaps that is due to a lot of input from a few people, rather than some from lots!
A very nice beginning!
A national campaign against homeopathic remedies being in sold in Boots stores was brought to Haverfordwest on Saturday.
At least two readers are less impressed. It's the first time I personally have been lampooned in comments pages, though customers and schoolchildren have said far worse things to me in my time - I can't quite decide what it's like, yet. These criticisms are really rather pitiful (so far). A very useful thing to go through, I guess - as Karen kindly showed me. I don't think I'm as ignorant as they call me, but it's a healthy reminder never to pretend I know everything - about anything!One woman from Johnston took a lonely but determined stance against the so-called alternative remedies, joining a mass ‘overdose’ of homeopathic tablets, to prove that they have no effect.
Many thanks to Katy Woodhouse for interviewing me and writing the article! They didn't go into the science - I guess there wasn't room - so I did that in the comments for them.
Hope you enjoy it!
Update: By midnight, it appears to be the most read and commented on story! Though perhaps that is due to a lot of input from a few people, rather than some from lots!
Saturday, 30 January 2010
I survived homeopathic suicide! Because there's nothing in it.
Shortly after 9:30 this morning I set off for the 10:23 overdose event - for the reasons I blogged a few days ago. It had hailed before I'd woken up and the car was covered in make-believe snow.
I'd brought the 30C arnica, and there was time to buy a bottle of water - I was a bit nervous in case I couldn't swallow the wretched things (I don't swallow pills easily and prefer tiny ones). I hadn't had much sleep, mostly because of nerves, though my boyfriend had cheered me up over instant messenger. He'd dutifully gone to bed at about 1am, and was then back about two minutes later saying he'd suddenly felt the irresistable urge to calculate how many glucose molecules there'd be in each pill.
I reminded myself of the molecular mass of glucose: 6 carbons, whose molecular weight is 12; 12 hydrogens, whose molecular weight is 1; 6 oxygens, whose molecular weight is 16. That came to 180. What this actually means is that 1 mole of glucose weighs 180g. 1g of hydrogen would contain the same number of molecules as 180g glucose. A mole is Avogadro's constant, a very specific number of atoms: approximately 6 x 10 to the power 23 (I wish this blog did superscript!). In fact, that's what inspired 10:23's name.
I let my boyfriend finish off the maths. He calculated that for every 1 molecule of arnica (assuming that it is, indeed, a pure substance!), there would be a number of molecules of glucose that ended in 39 zeros! Edd made a similar point: enough molecules for 15,000 solar masses ("Broadly speaking, on a clear night in ideal conditions, with your naked eye you will have around the right number of stars to add up to that much matter. Maybe not quite enough, but not far off").
Of course, there are not this many molecules on the Earth, but this is because every single step of diluting involves adding a new 99 drops of water and dispensing with another 99. Most of the substance gets washed away!
To put it another way, to find a single molecule of arnica in little tubes like mine, my boyfriend worked out, at the price of £5.19 per tube, you'd have to buy enough to fund 2 billion billion billion Apollo programs!
Anyway, I wandered back and forth in front of Boots, and at one point went round the back to check there was nobody on that side. Finally Katy Woodhouse, a lovely lady from the Western Telegraph (my local newspaper), arrived with a big umbrella and a little camera and notepad. Her first question to me was: "Why do you feel so strongly about it?"
I had to answer, "I don't - I'm doing this partly for fun! That is, I think there are more important things to worry about - but I also believe the public ought to know what they're getting when they buy homeopathy." Because many people very clearly don't. I explained to her how it's often confused with herbal medicine, and how homeopaths are apt to advise people to give up vital conventional medicine when they need it - as pointed out in a poignant tweet last night from Josa Young: "I support www.1023.org.uk because consulting a homeopath delayed my mother getting proper treatment for her ovarian cancer. She died at 68."
I told Katy that this was taking place all over England, but I didn't know of any other lone demonstrations, or any others in Wales. If either of these did take place, I'd be so glad to know!
She was writing shorthand, which fascinated me. "It took ages to learn," she told me. She asked me if Boots really actually sold this stuff - since she didn't believe in it, she'd never looked for it! I took her in to see the rows upon rows of weird-named tubes. There was no note about "without approved therapeutic something or other" that I'd thought I'd seen. My arnica box was the only product that explained what it actually did. I showed her the "arsenic alba". At just that point an elderly gentleman needed to get in between us to pick out a couple, swearing that they cured his bruising. "Do they actually work?" asked Katy politely, and he assured her they did. I kept quiet until he'd gone, then said, "Many different testimonies."
By the time we got back outside, it was a minute or two after 10:23! Hurriedly, I put my bag down by the railings and tried to get the vial open. I couldn't. I tried and tried. You have to press the bottom upwards. Then Katy had a go. It was beginning to snow now. After several mintues of talk and feeling exceptionally stupid, I went back into Boots and asked an assistant - the same lady, I believe, who'd sold it to me! - if she could help me get it open! She gave me a strange look, but found that she had to practically stand on it as well. I thanked her profusely and dashed outside. Katy took a couple of photos, one with the river in the background, the other with the Boots sign. Then I settled down again and started clicking the dispenser. Every few clicks, a little white sugary blob skittered into the cap. I started munching them like crisps.
Katy couldn't help looking a bit worried - especially when I explained the symptoms of ingesting arnica! She asked me to give her a ring later to let her know what happened to me, as she had to go on and do other things. I just remembered in time to give her this sheet from Sense About Science, which is terrific. She was really nice, and let me rattle on about the weird statistics calculated during silly hours! The pills were yummy too - with roughly the crunchiness of especially tiny, dense Mini Egg covering, and not too surprisingly tasting precisely like, well, sugar. "And you believe so strongly that you'll be safe . . ." was one of Katy's parting lines. Yup. And I felt no ill effects at all. There weren't even enough to give me a sugar rush. I'd finished almost all by the time she'd gone. And then I went shopping and then I went home!
It didn't take long for the news to appear on the BBC website and a great many wonderful videos and pictures to appear on 1023. This is probably my favourite photo:
People on the Have Your Say BBC forum are beautifully divided. Many are greatly shocked to learn that such an unscientific quackery is even on sale, let alone in Boots. Others seem to be hurling accusations. Here are some FHA (Frequently Hurled Accusations):
"you are in the pay of Big Pharma"
Not this again. For one thing, the fact that that is wrong doesn't make it right. Does the Iraq war make the genocide in Sudan right? And what about the fact that Big Pharma produces homeopathy?
"it worked for me"
Everything works for somebody, or nearly. One chap's depression was cured after he got a mate to hammer a nail into his head as a suicide attempt. Interestingly, the diseases people were describing were stress-related, and the treatments involved extensive consultation following an annoying sort of time. The real treatment was probably getting a bit of attention, and feeling more positive. Anecdotes are where you start your studies, not where you conclude them.
"you are having a tantrum and throwing your dummie [sic] out of the pram"
Well, I had a great time, looked like everyone else was too. We sure educated some of the commentators, if not all.
"scientists used to say the Earth was flat, therefore homeopathy is right"
No, the ancient Greeks measured the lengths of shadows in different latitudes to work out the Earth's diameter.
And many more amount to - "live and let live" (Yeah - we don't want babies to die because their parents refuse to treat them normally . . . as does happen!); "you people have nothing better to do" (Yeah - I came home and ate a damn good meal!) and "I have an opinion; I am Entitled to My Opinion; This makes Me sacred; therefore homeopathy is right."
I meant to write something more serious than that, so I think I'll stop now.
Good on you folks for organising a hilariously funny day. Actually, sometime, I would be interested in taking on "Big Pharma", because I know that in some countries and situations they are pretty dodgy. I predict with some confidence that the homeopaths will go beserk with rage at us for this shameless attempt to undermine the noble, scientific producers of their . . . er . . . opinion-drink.
I'll post the link to the local rag when it comes out!
I'd brought the 30C arnica, and there was time to buy a bottle of water - I was a bit nervous in case I couldn't swallow the wretched things (I don't swallow pills easily and prefer tiny ones). I hadn't had much sleep, mostly because of nerves, though my boyfriend had cheered me up over instant messenger. He'd dutifully gone to bed at about 1am, and was then back about two minutes later saying he'd suddenly felt the irresistable urge to calculate how many glucose molecules there'd be in each pill.
I reminded myself of the molecular mass of glucose: 6 carbons, whose molecular weight is 12; 12 hydrogens, whose molecular weight is 1; 6 oxygens, whose molecular weight is 16. That came to 180. What this actually means is that 1 mole of glucose weighs 180g. 1g of hydrogen would contain the same number of molecules as 180g glucose. A mole is Avogadro's constant, a very specific number of atoms: approximately 6 x 10 to the power 23 (I wish this blog did superscript!). In fact, that's what inspired 10:23's name.
I let my boyfriend finish off the maths. He calculated that for every 1 molecule of arnica (assuming that it is, indeed, a pure substance!), there would be a number of molecules of glucose that ended in 39 zeros! Edd made a similar point: enough molecules for 15,000 solar masses ("Broadly speaking, on a clear night in ideal conditions, with your naked eye you will have around the right number of stars to add up to that much matter. Maybe not quite enough, but not far off").
Of course, there are not this many molecules on the Earth, but this is because every single step of diluting involves adding a new 99 drops of water and dispensing with another 99. Most of the substance gets washed away!
To put it another way, to find a single molecule of arnica in little tubes like mine, my boyfriend worked out, at the price of £5.19 per tube, you'd have to buy enough to fund 2 billion billion billion Apollo programs!
Anyway, I wandered back and forth in front of Boots, and at one point went round the back to check there was nobody on that side. Finally Katy Woodhouse, a lovely lady from the Western Telegraph (my local newspaper), arrived with a big umbrella and a little camera and notepad. Her first question to me was: "Why do you feel so strongly about it?"
I had to answer, "I don't - I'm doing this partly for fun! That is, I think there are more important things to worry about - but I also believe the public ought to know what they're getting when they buy homeopathy." Because many people very clearly don't. I explained to her how it's often confused with herbal medicine, and how homeopaths are apt to advise people to give up vital conventional medicine when they need it - as pointed out in a poignant tweet last night from Josa Young: "I support www.1023.org.uk because consulting a homeopath delayed my mother getting proper treatment for her ovarian cancer. She died at 68."
I told Katy that this was taking place all over England, but I didn't know of any other lone demonstrations, or any others in Wales. If either of these did take place, I'd be so glad to know!
She was writing shorthand, which fascinated me. "It took ages to learn," she told me. She asked me if Boots really actually sold this stuff - since she didn't believe in it, she'd never looked for it! I took her in to see the rows upon rows of weird-named tubes. There was no note about "without approved therapeutic something or other" that I'd thought I'd seen. My arnica box was the only product that explained what it actually did. I showed her the "arsenic alba". At just that point an elderly gentleman needed to get in between us to pick out a couple, swearing that they cured his bruising. "Do they actually work?" asked Katy politely, and he assured her they did. I kept quiet until he'd gone, then said, "Many different testimonies."
By the time we got back outside, it was a minute or two after 10:23! Hurriedly, I put my bag down by the railings and tried to get the vial open. I couldn't. I tried and tried. You have to press the bottom upwards. Then Katy had a go. It was beginning to snow now. After several mintues of talk and feeling exceptionally stupid, I went back into Boots and asked an assistant - the same lady, I believe, who'd sold it to me! - if she could help me get it open! She gave me a strange look, but found that she had to practically stand on it as well. I thanked her profusely and dashed outside. Katy took a couple of photos, one with the river in the background, the other with the Boots sign. Then I settled down again and started clicking the dispenser. Every few clicks, a little white sugary blob skittered into the cap. I started munching them like crisps.
Katy couldn't help looking a bit worried - especially when I explained the symptoms of ingesting arnica! She asked me to give her a ring later to let her know what happened to me, as she had to go on and do other things. I just remembered in time to give her this sheet from Sense About Science, which is terrific. She was really nice, and let me rattle on about the weird statistics calculated during silly hours! The pills were yummy too - with roughly the crunchiness of especially tiny, dense Mini Egg covering, and not too surprisingly tasting precisely like, well, sugar. "And you believe so strongly that you'll be safe . . ." was one of Katy's parting lines. Yup. And I felt no ill effects at all. There weren't even enough to give me a sugar rush. I'd finished almost all by the time she'd gone. And then I went shopping and then I went home!
It didn't take long for the news to appear on the BBC website and a great many wonderful videos and pictures to appear on 1023. This is probably my favourite photo:
People on the Have Your Say BBC forum are beautifully divided. Many are greatly shocked to learn that such an unscientific quackery is even on sale, let alone in Boots. Others seem to be hurling accusations. Here are some FHA (Frequently Hurled Accusations):
"you are in the pay of Big Pharma"
Not this again. For one thing, the fact that that is wrong doesn't make it right. Does the Iraq war make the genocide in Sudan right? And what about the fact that Big Pharma produces homeopathy?
"it worked for me"
Everything works for somebody, or nearly. One chap's depression was cured after he got a mate to hammer a nail into his head as a suicide attempt. Interestingly, the diseases people were describing were stress-related, and the treatments involved extensive consultation following an annoying sort of time. The real treatment was probably getting a bit of attention, and feeling more positive. Anecdotes are where you start your studies, not where you conclude them.
"you are having a tantrum and throwing your dummie [sic] out of the pram"
Well, I had a great time, looked like everyone else was too. We sure educated some of the commentators, if not all.
"scientists used to say the Earth was flat, therefore homeopathy is right"
No, the ancient Greeks measured the lengths of shadows in different latitudes to work out the Earth's diameter.
And many more amount to - "live and let live" (Yeah - we don't want babies to die because their parents refuse to treat them normally . . . as does happen!); "you people have nothing better to do" (Yeah - I came home and ate a damn good meal!) and "I have an opinion; I am Entitled to My Opinion; This makes Me sacred; therefore homeopathy is right."
I meant to write something more serious than that, so I think I'll stop now.
Good on you folks for organising a hilariously funny day. Actually, sometime, I would be interested in taking on "Big Pharma", because I know that in some countries and situations they are pretty dodgy. I predict with some confidence that the homeopaths will go beserk with rage at us for this shameless attempt to undermine the noble, scientific producers of their . . . er . . . opinion-drink.
I'll post the link to the local rag when it comes out!
Wednesday, 27 January 2010
Anyone up for joining me outside Boots at 10:23 am for a homeopathic overdose?
This Saturday, 30th January - by which time I seriously hope I will have sent off my tax return - if all goes well, you will find a gawky fair-haired woman with glasses and big teeth overdosing on homeopathic medicine outside the Boots in Haverfordwest, Pembrokeshire.
Now, why am I doing such a damn silly thing?
Well, nationwide - and, even, internationally - a few hundred other people are doing exactly the same thing for the Ten 23 campaign. Their slogan is: "Homeopathy: There's nothing in it."
You can read more on the above link about homeopathy - and I'm sure many homeopaths will be glad to tell you their side of the story. Shelley the Republican also promises miracles from it . . . (sorry, couldn't resist!). Anyway, the basic principle is that a tiny amount of something that causes the symptoms someone is suffering from should be taken, and the more dilute, the stronger it is. When atoms and molecules were discovered, and simple arithmetic points out that it is unlikely that a single molecule of the active ingredient will remain, the homeopaths suggested that "water has a memory". In other words, the water should "remember the ingredient".
As Ben Goldacre points out in his book, water molecules are tiny, and this is rather like expecting several bags of peas to "remember" the shape of a sofa. And as Crispian Jago puts it, let's hope they don't remember all the other things they've surrounded - bearing in mind that water molecules are mostly millions or billions of years old . . . Homeopaths get around the latter point by claiming that beating a vial of said water 10 times against a horsehair something-or-other will "make it forget" everything else. As for the former? Ummmm . . . I think just by getting extremely angry.
At this point several people will say, "But homeopathy worked for me." What is more likely to have happened is that you got better because you were going to get better anyway - this is called "regression to the mean". Also, the act of taking something gave you a feeling that something changed, and lifted your expectations. This encouragement, and feeling of being looked after itself, might boost your feeling of general well-being. This is called "the placebo effect", and study after study finds that homeopathy works no better than this. You can read more about the placebo effect here.
In the meantime, how do they turn this magic water into pills? Well, it appears that they drip it onto sugar and then let it evaporate. I hate to break it to you, but, yes - the water is no longer there. And molecules of sugar fit in between water molecules, not around them so as to take up some weird shape . . .
I can well imagine that a carer or doctor and their patient might well benefit everyone by giving people who are permanently stressed a placebo - their real problem is they are over-tired, not looked after, depressed, or just a general whinger. But this comes at a cost. It avoids dealing with the person's real problem - and it boosts sham science and medicine.
Which brings me to why the Ten 23 Campaign are picking on Boots especially. Boots is a trusted high street chain, supposed to be very knowledgeable of medicine, and to provide customers with the best treatment. Therefore, the campaign is asking them not to sell pseudoscience because it is not in the customer's best interest. As we point out, it is really not the best option, and can indeed be dangerous if real treatment for a real problem is delayed or rejected.
Boots themselves admit that this is pseudomedicine, but they continue to sell it "for consumer choice". That is a classic example of assuming market forces make the best choices. They don't. Everyone wants to sell their product, and will mislead people into thinking that it will do more than it really will. Market forces are routinely manipulated, and Boots is merely taking advantage of this to make more money.
Oh, and for anyone who's reading this and concluding that I'm in the pay of "Big Pharma" - well, for one thing this is not America, and we get all our prescription medicines free in Wales, so I can't see that that makes them a big profit. More seriously, yes, the pharmaceutical industry has plenty of faults (I could go on and on about what some certain people do to doctors trying to publish research they don't like . . . !). But this does not somehow magically make alternative medicine work. Conventional and alternative medicine are not opposites, or black and white in some way. The difference is that conventional medicine passes the scientific tests, and alternative medicine does not.
Returning to the question of "consumer choice": a real choice is an informed choice. To make a guess at what to buy, on the basis of a random person's statement that "Big Pharma is evil" or "homeopathy worked for me, I don't pretend to understand the science but it works" is not much of a choice - and many people do not have the education or the information at hand to sift through the truckloads of different advice. This morning I went to the Boots in Haverfordwest to check out their homeopathic range.
I found it under a big sign that said "Alternative Medicines". Vitamins, herbal remedies, and weird packet soups seemed to appear on the shelves at random amongst the homeopathy. There were an awful lot of 3 for 2 offers, and very little on-shelf labelling, so I had to pick up individual products to see what was homeopathy and what wasn't. There were dozens and dozens of bizarrely-named little vials, such as "Sulphur" and "Nux Vomita" (lovely!) - and no information at all about what symptoms they were supposed to treat. I finally bought the one product that actually did indicate that, namely "Nelsons Arnica 30c pillules".
There is a little logo of a green leaf with a white cross, disturbingly - and obviously deliberately - similar to the green cross on a white background of pharmacies. It describes itself as "Arnica Montana: A homeopathic medicinal product used within the homeopathic tradition for the symptomatic relief of sprains, muscular aches and bruising or swelling after contusions."
It also contains several warnings. I must not overdose (oh dear!). I must consult a doctor if I do that, and bring the medicine with me. I must also consult a doctor if I use while pregnant or breastfeeding. When taking the medicine I must take extreme care not to touch it with my hands, but must empty the pills into the cap and then into my mouth. If symptoms persist or worsen after 7 days I must consult a doctor. And I must not use after the expiry date has passed.
To be fair on Boots, or more likely the law generally, I think there was a tiny label on the shelf noting that it was "without approved therapeutic something or other" (sorry about that; I thought it was on the product but I now can't find it - I will go back and check on Saturday). But everything else about it suggested that this was a proper medicine.
I took it to the counter and handed it to the nice lady on the other side, and asked innocently, "I was wondering, how do these things actually work?" She opened it up to show me how to open the product, and explained that it was to treat bruises and sprains, so I made a minor remark about getting bruises all the time (which is true - I'm always walking into things). She also advised me to take it before an operation because it would reduce the bleeding. I asked vaguely, "It's this like cures like business, isn't it?" She looked perplexed, but said "Yes". I couldn't go on. I'm a terrible liar. I just bought it and managed to get out of the shop before I doubled up with laughter.
When I got home, my mum read the packaging even more carefully with me, and laughed even harder. She then raced to look up arnica. She knew, of course, that it's a traditional medicine in folklore, rubbed on the skin where there is bruising, and it does seem to have some useful properties. She found out how it works: it encourages vasodilation, the slight enlarging of blood vessels to let more blood through. This is what happens on your skin when, for example, you feel hot or you blush. So it is logical that this would deal with the bruising faster: the blood would take away the waste products and disintegrating blood cells, and bring along the materials to mend it.
The main principle of this, of course, is that this is a product to be rubbed on the skin. Not to swallow. If you swallow arnica in a large enough quantity, why, presumably you get the vasodilation inside your digestive system. In any case, you certainly get severe gastroenteritis and internal bleeding. Now, if I had reason to believe that there was sufficient arnica in this complex glass vial I've spent £5.19 on, I'd be doing something very dangerous indeed.
It doesn't even follow homeopathy's own dogma of "like cures like". If a tiny trace of ingredient which causes the symptoms is supposed to treat them - as I think is supposed to be their philosophy - shouldn't it follow that this medicine is supposed to treat gastroentiritis and internal bleeding? Or, perhaps, that it should cause more bruising on the skin rather than less? Well, I'll let you know after Saturday morning!
I want to thank @irlbinky on Twitter for his huge encouragement and support, and my other fellow skeptics @Zeno001, @JackofKent, @Crispian_Jago and many others. And also hoping to see another fellow Twitterer there on Saturday, if it turns out he can make it (as I don't think he's visited this blog yet he might not want me to give his name.) And I hope to tell you a lot more this coming weekend.
Now, why am I doing such a damn silly thing?
Well, nationwide - and, even, internationally - a few hundred other people are doing exactly the same thing for the Ten 23 campaign. Their slogan is: "Homeopathy: There's nothing in it."
You can read more on the above link about homeopathy - and I'm sure many homeopaths will be glad to tell you their side of the story. Shelley the Republican also promises miracles from it . . . (sorry, couldn't resist!). Anyway, the basic principle is that a tiny amount of something that causes the symptoms someone is suffering from should be taken, and the more dilute, the stronger it is. When atoms and molecules were discovered, and simple arithmetic points out that it is unlikely that a single molecule of the active ingredient will remain, the homeopaths suggested that "water has a memory". In other words, the water should "remember the ingredient".
As Ben Goldacre points out in his book, water molecules are tiny, and this is rather like expecting several bags of peas to "remember" the shape of a sofa. And as Crispian Jago puts it, let's hope they don't remember all the other things they've surrounded - bearing in mind that water molecules are mostly millions or billions of years old . . . Homeopaths get around the latter point by claiming that beating a vial of said water 10 times against a horsehair something-or-other will "make it forget" everything else. As for the former? Ummmm . . . I think just by getting extremely angry.
At this point several people will say, "But homeopathy worked for me." What is more likely to have happened is that you got better because you were going to get better anyway - this is called "regression to the mean". Also, the act of taking something gave you a feeling that something changed, and lifted your expectations. This encouragement, and feeling of being looked after itself, might boost your feeling of general well-being. This is called "the placebo effect", and study after study finds that homeopathy works no better than this. You can read more about the placebo effect here.
In the meantime, how do they turn this magic water into pills? Well, it appears that they drip it onto sugar and then let it evaporate. I hate to break it to you, but, yes - the water is no longer there. And molecules of sugar fit in between water molecules, not around them so as to take up some weird shape . . .
I can well imagine that a carer or doctor and their patient might well benefit everyone by giving people who are permanently stressed a placebo - their real problem is they are over-tired, not looked after, depressed, or just a general whinger. But this comes at a cost. It avoids dealing with the person's real problem - and it boosts sham science and medicine.
Which brings me to why the Ten 23 Campaign are picking on Boots especially. Boots is a trusted high street chain, supposed to be very knowledgeable of medicine, and to provide customers with the best treatment. Therefore, the campaign is asking them not to sell pseudoscience because it is not in the customer's best interest. As we point out, it is really not the best option, and can indeed be dangerous if real treatment for a real problem is delayed or rejected.
Boots themselves admit that this is pseudomedicine, but they continue to sell it "for consumer choice". That is a classic example of assuming market forces make the best choices. They don't. Everyone wants to sell their product, and will mislead people into thinking that it will do more than it really will. Market forces are routinely manipulated, and Boots is merely taking advantage of this to make more money.
Oh, and for anyone who's reading this and concluding that I'm in the pay of "Big Pharma" - well, for one thing this is not America, and we get all our prescription medicines free in Wales, so I can't see that that makes them a big profit. More seriously, yes, the pharmaceutical industry has plenty of faults (I could go on and on about what some certain people do to doctors trying to publish research they don't like . . . !). But this does not somehow magically make alternative medicine work. Conventional and alternative medicine are not opposites, or black and white in some way. The difference is that conventional medicine passes the scientific tests, and alternative medicine does not.
Returning to the question of "consumer choice": a real choice is an informed choice. To make a guess at what to buy, on the basis of a random person's statement that "Big Pharma is evil" or "homeopathy worked for me, I don't pretend to understand the science but it works" is not much of a choice - and many people do not have the education or the information at hand to sift through the truckloads of different advice. This morning I went to the Boots in Haverfordwest to check out their homeopathic range.
I found it under a big sign that said "Alternative Medicines". Vitamins, herbal remedies, and weird packet soups seemed to appear on the shelves at random amongst the homeopathy. There were an awful lot of 3 for 2 offers, and very little on-shelf labelling, so I had to pick up individual products to see what was homeopathy and what wasn't. There were dozens and dozens of bizarrely-named little vials, such as "Sulphur" and "Nux Vomita" (lovely!) - and no information at all about what symptoms they were supposed to treat. I finally bought the one product that actually did indicate that, namely "Nelsons Arnica 30c pillules".
There is a little logo of a green leaf with a white cross, disturbingly - and obviously deliberately - similar to the green cross on a white background of pharmacies. It describes itself as "Arnica Montana: A homeopathic medicinal product used within the homeopathic tradition for the symptomatic relief of sprains, muscular aches and bruising or swelling after contusions."
It also contains several warnings. I must not overdose (oh dear!). I must consult a doctor if I do that, and bring the medicine with me. I must also consult a doctor if I use while pregnant or breastfeeding. When taking the medicine I must take extreme care not to touch it with my hands, but must empty the pills into the cap and then into my mouth. If symptoms persist or worsen after 7 days I must consult a doctor. And I must not use after the expiry date has passed.
To be fair on Boots, or more likely the law generally, I think there was a tiny label on the shelf noting that it was "without approved therapeutic something or other" (sorry about that; I thought it was on the product but I now can't find it - I will go back and check on Saturday). But everything else about it suggested that this was a proper medicine.
I took it to the counter and handed it to the nice lady on the other side, and asked innocently, "I was wondering, how do these things actually work?" She opened it up to show me how to open the product, and explained that it was to treat bruises and sprains, so I made a minor remark about getting bruises all the time (which is true - I'm always walking into things). She also advised me to take it before an operation because it would reduce the bleeding. I asked vaguely, "It's this like cures like business, isn't it?" She looked perplexed, but said "Yes". I couldn't go on. I'm a terrible liar. I just bought it and managed to get out of the shop before I doubled up with laughter.
When I got home, my mum read the packaging even more carefully with me, and laughed even harder. She then raced to look up arnica. She knew, of course, that it's a traditional medicine in folklore, rubbed on the skin where there is bruising, and it does seem to have some useful properties. She found out how it works: it encourages vasodilation, the slight enlarging of blood vessels to let more blood through. This is what happens on your skin when, for example, you feel hot or you blush. So it is logical that this would deal with the bruising faster: the blood would take away the waste products and disintegrating blood cells, and bring along the materials to mend it.
The main principle of this, of course, is that this is a product to be rubbed on the skin. Not to swallow. If you swallow arnica in a large enough quantity, why, presumably you get the vasodilation inside your digestive system. In any case, you certainly get severe gastroenteritis and internal bleeding. Now, if I had reason to believe that there was sufficient arnica in this complex glass vial I've spent £5.19 on, I'd be doing something very dangerous indeed.
It doesn't even follow homeopathy's own dogma of "like cures like". If a tiny trace of ingredient which causes the symptoms is supposed to treat them - as I think is supposed to be their philosophy - shouldn't it follow that this medicine is supposed to treat gastroentiritis and internal bleeding? Or, perhaps, that it should cause more bruising on the skin rather than less? Well, I'll let you know after Saturday morning!
I want to thank @irlbinky on Twitter for his huge encouragement and support, and my other fellow skeptics @Zeno001, @JackofKent, @Crispian_Jago and many others. And also hoping to see another fellow Twitterer there on Saturday, if it turns out he can make it (as I don't think he's visited this blog yet he might not want me to give his name.) And I hope to tell you a lot more this coming weekend.
Tuesday, 26 January 2010
May David Kelly rest in peace. May Britain never do so until truth is found and justice done.
I barely have words for the news, here and here, that all evidence relating to Dr David Kelly's death have been locked away for 70 years.
Dr Kelly advised the government before the Iraq war that Iraq had no weapons of mass destruction. For this, he was ridiculed and overruled. The summer our country went to war, his body was found in the woods. The inquest said he'd killed himself.
It wasn't exactly hard for those trained in medical matters to point out that cutting your wrist, as he was reported to have done, does not actually cause one to bleed to death - and someone as knowledgeable in such matters as Dr Kelly would have known far better ways to do it. Ever since, the question has left hanging: does this mean someone else did it for him?
The Hutton Enquiry was much criticised by news readers as a "whitewash". It has a whole website, full of documents and timetables. But it's only now been reported in the press that "a 30-year ban was placed on ‘records provided [which were] not produced in evidence’" and "Lord Hutton ordered all medical reports – including the post-mortem findings by pathologist Dr Nicholas Hunt and photographs of Dr Kelly’s body – to remain classified information for 70 years".
This is not a usual move, and the conclusion is obvious to many: there is something that Lord Hutton knows needs hiding.
The motto for many totalitarian states, and supporters of biometric ID cards, is "If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear."
Innocent citizens are distrusted to the depth that they must submit their fingerprints, DNA, iris scans, job, everywhere they have lived, and further private information which the government hardly needs - not just now, but to all future governments to come, whatever might happen: and trust them with this information. Are we supposed to trust this government when it makes it quite so clear that it has blood on its hands?
Comments abound on the Daily Mail website - very articulate, combining civilisation with bitterness and rage, not at all the insulting drivel you often get on the web. Many people publicly say, "We need a revolution". My comment - along with many others, I gather - vanished. I hope the people of Britain and around the world will never forgive the killing of David Kelly. I hope that those who do know something for certain speak out, though I fear such might cost them their lives too.
It's all a rather surreal feeling, as if I'm trapped in a political novel such as George R R Martin's "A Game of Thrones". I remember delving into the sneaky atrocities committed by politicians in History lessons, feeling a combined horror that mankind could ever have sunk so low, and an unstated safe sense that surely this couldn't happen today. How wrong I was. I wish we could do something. But what?
In any case, although David Kelly's death is another death to all who care about our illegal war, there's no point sinking into too much misery, as that won't help. So if you need cheering up or to know that you can do something, try attempting a peaceful citizen's arrest!
Update, almost a year later: I did subsequently find out that a lot of skeptics I respect are very doubtful that Dr Kelly's death was suspicious. I do realise that the Daily Mail are apt to encourage suspicion. I'm not a fanatic; I would not turn away from good evidence. But that's precisely what's being hidden.
It's an ugly topic, not only in itself but when you look outside it, at Dr Kelly's family, for example. How horrendous, that the enormity of losing him should be reduced to something people squabble over, and is something for which they demand all the facts that can possibly be obtained.
I'm from a medical family, and two things continue to bother me: a) you cannot die by slashing your wrists, and b) Dr Kelly would certainly have known this. (Apparently he had a condition which made it possible. But surely he would not have known that, or risked it?)
Anyway, I'll be watching this space . . . and whatever happened, I hope it never happens again, and that his family are finding peace.
Dr Kelly advised the government before the Iraq war that Iraq had no weapons of mass destruction. For this, he was ridiculed and overruled. The summer our country went to war, his body was found in the woods. The inquest said he'd killed himself.
It wasn't exactly hard for those trained in medical matters to point out that cutting your wrist, as he was reported to have done, does not actually cause one to bleed to death - and someone as knowledgeable in such matters as Dr Kelly would have known far better ways to do it. Ever since, the question has left hanging: does this mean someone else did it for him?
The Hutton Enquiry was much criticised by news readers as a "whitewash". It has a whole website, full of documents and timetables. But it's only now been reported in the press that "a 30-year ban was placed on ‘records provided [which were] not produced in evidence’" and "Lord Hutton ordered all medical reports – including the post-mortem findings by pathologist Dr Nicholas Hunt and photographs of Dr Kelly’s body – to remain classified information for 70 years".
This is not a usual move, and the conclusion is obvious to many: there is something that Lord Hutton knows needs hiding.
The motto for many totalitarian states, and supporters of biometric ID cards, is "If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear."
Innocent citizens are distrusted to the depth that they must submit their fingerprints, DNA, iris scans, job, everywhere they have lived, and further private information which the government hardly needs - not just now, but to all future governments to come, whatever might happen: and trust them with this information. Are we supposed to trust this government when it makes it quite so clear that it has blood on its hands?
Comments abound on the Daily Mail website - very articulate, combining civilisation with bitterness and rage, not at all the insulting drivel you often get on the web. Many people publicly say, "We need a revolution". My comment - along with many others, I gather - vanished. I hope the people of Britain and around the world will never forgive the killing of David Kelly. I hope that those who do know something for certain speak out, though I fear such might cost them their lives too.
It's all a rather surreal feeling, as if I'm trapped in a political novel such as George R R Martin's "A Game of Thrones". I remember delving into the sneaky atrocities committed by politicians in History lessons, feeling a combined horror that mankind could ever have sunk so low, and an unstated safe sense that surely this couldn't happen today. How wrong I was. I wish we could do something. But what?
In any case, although David Kelly's death is another death to all who care about our illegal war, there's no point sinking into too much misery, as that won't help. So if you need cheering up or to know that you can do something, try attempting a peaceful citizen's arrest!
Update, almost a year later: I did subsequently find out that a lot of skeptics I respect are very doubtful that Dr Kelly's death was suspicious. I do realise that the Daily Mail are apt to encourage suspicion. I'm not a fanatic; I would not turn away from good evidence. But that's precisely what's being hidden.
It's an ugly topic, not only in itself but when you look outside it, at Dr Kelly's family, for example. How horrendous, that the enormity of losing him should be reduced to something people squabble over, and is something for which they demand all the facts that can possibly be obtained.
I'm from a medical family, and two things continue to bother me: a) you cannot die by slashing your wrists, and b) Dr Kelly would certainly have known this. (Apparently he had a condition which made it possible. But surely he would not have known that, or risked it?)
Anyway, I'll be watching this space . . . and whatever happened, I hope it never happens again, and that his family are finding peace.
Why Crispian Jago loves Carl Sagan - and so do so many more
If you haven't yet seen this work of genius from Crispian Jago, hurry along to see what he says here. He already puts it perfectly, so check out his words. Click here to see a large version (that, again, is from Crispian's excellent blog).
It's quite true, from the far-too-little-so-far I've read of his work (oh, my booklist is undergoing inflation!). In "Pale Blue Dot", for example, one minute he's telling us easily and captivatingly about ancient history, next minute it's robots, then it's projects that were nothing to do with space that led on to make wonderful discoveries about space - and vice versa. Did you know it was studying the other planets in our Solar System that led us to discover the greenhouse effect and the hole in the ozone layer?
Never met you, Carl, but I miss you already.
My only problem with this picture is that it only contains 2 or possibly 3 women. But it's great to run through it and see so many familiar faces - and wonder what the unfamiliar ones did. What's more, it's never too late in life to start finding out.
It's quite true, from the far-too-little-so-far I've read of his work (oh, my booklist is undergoing inflation!). In "Pale Blue Dot", for example, one minute he's telling us easily and captivatingly about ancient history, next minute it's robots, then it's projects that were nothing to do with space that led on to make wonderful discoveries about space - and vice versa. Did you know it was studying the other planets in our Solar System that led us to discover the greenhouse effect and the hole in the ozone layer?
Never met you, Carl, but I miss you already.
My only problem with this picture is that it only contains 2 or possibly 3 women. But it's great to run through it and see so many familiar faces - and wonder what the unfamiliar ones did. What's more, it's never too late in life to start finding out.
Monday, 25 January 2010
Great pictures around the Solar System
Just thought I'd do quick a round-up of some utterly wonderful pictures I've seen over the last few days. Starting with the Red Planet, which was hanging about low on the horizon to the east the other evening, looking very orange indeed: here is its "layered landscape". From NASA:
A quite different view of a landscape weirdity, reported by Phil Plait and APOD a few days later. Apparently the dark tree-like shapes are cascades of dust, disturbed and falling in an avalanche after the sublimation of frozen carbon dioxide. Personally, I just can't see them as that. My eyes persist in assuring me that they are standing up, nice and vertical against a landscape of a quite different angle - and my brain refuses to accept what is going on. It's like seeing a straight ruler over a lumpy duvet to me, and being told the ruler is the same shape as the cloth. Could somebody explain it in idiot's terms, or do I just need new glasses already? It's amazing anyway . . .
Moving a little outward, here's Jupiter - the world in the Solar System more massive than all other worlds, their moons, and all space debris such as comets and asteroids put together. Go to Phil Plait again for the article, and here to "enjovinate" or embiggen. Marvel at the gas that has formed those twisting, valley-like areas, and try to take in that the Great Red Spot could fit a couple of Earths inside.
Heading into the very heart of the Solar System, our best friend and local star behind the Moon, where it shows what we don't otherwise see. From the Brno University of Technology, Czech Republic, and another enlargement to play with here.
And finally, I don't know who developed this, but I want one! Tweeted by NASA_SDO. Now that is a proper spacebar.
A quite different view of a landscape weirdity, reported by Phil Plait and APOD a few days later. Apparently the dark tree-like shapes are cascades of dust, disturbed and falling in an avalanche after the sublimation of frozen carbon dioxide. Personally, I just can't see them as that. My eyes persist in assuring me that they are standing up, nice and vertical against a landscape of a quite different angle - and my brain refuses to accept what is going on. It's like seeing a straight ruler over a lumpy duvet to me, and being told the ruler is the same shape as the cloth. Could somebody explain it in idiot's terms, or do I just need new glasses already? It's amazing anyway . . .
Moving a little outward, here's Jupiter - the world in the Solar System more massive than all other worlds, their moons, and all space debris such as comets and asteroids put together. Go to Phil Plait again for the article, and here to "enjovinate" or embiggen. Marvel at the gas that has formed those twisting, valley-like areas, and try to take in that the Great Red Spot could fit a couple of Earths inside.
Heading into the very heart of the Solar System, our best friend and local star behind the Moon, where it shows what we don't otherwise see. From the Brno University of Technology, Czech Republic, and another enlargement to play with here.
And finally, I don't know who developed this, but I want one! Tweeted by NASA_SDO. Now that is a proper spacebar.
Tuesday, 19 January 2010
Waste not, want not. What to do after the Tia Maria and cream experiment
So I ended up with two glasses of Tia Maria, one topped with cream, the other mixed with cream, not to mention a little cup of cream flavoured with Tia Maria. Incidentally, that cream had grown an amazing rubbery skin, not protein-y, quite different somehow. Anyway, I figured I'd make a chocolate cake.
Traditional recipe for a chocolate cake:
8oz butter
8oz sugar
4 eggs
8oz self-raising flour
4 tablespoons cocoa powder
1 lid full of vanilla essence
(If you are really desperate for grams, let me know. For me, those are for science, and Imperial is for food.)
Preheat oven to Gas Mark 4.
Grease 2 baking tins. Sift the flour and cocoa powder, and set aside.
Put the butter and sugar together in a bowl. Beat them until they are "creamed" - light and fluffy.
Break the eggs into a small bowl, beat with a knife until they are more or less an even mixture. Stir in the vanilla essence. Add about a third of this egg mixture plus a big spoonful of flour into the beaten butter and sugar, and fold in. Keep adding flour and egg until they are all stirred in.
Spoon this mixture evenly into the tins, and cook for 30 or 40 minutes - times vary depending on oven.
How to make cake like Alice
Same quantities as above apply, except that I'm now not 100% sure I didn't only use 4oz butter. Strangely, this didn't seem to upset anything. The cake was moist and really just right.
Put the butter into a bowl and leave it on the Aga to warm, as it's rock-hard from being in the fridge. Sift the flour, and then suddenly remember to grease the tins. Go and find them. Wash the dust out. Doesn't matter. The mixture needs to start cooking quickly if you've stirred the eggs into it, but before that, it's fine to hang about.
Decide that dark brown sugar would go well in a chocolate cake. Only dark brown sugar available is also rock hard, despite being kept in an air tight box (pah!). Take a cleaver to it, bag and all. Chop as hard as if you were trying to behead Marie Antoinette. As it happens, about 5oz worth is just what comes off, clean as a whistle and certainly cleaner than a head. Put this in a small bowl. Fill another small bowl with water. Put these both in the microwave.
No, I haven't gone nuts here - this is actually a tip from Robert Wolke's wonderful "What Einstein Told His Cook", a hilarious food chemistry book that I must review here one day. Brown sugar goes hard because it dries out and behaves like cement. He recommends leaving it in a really airtight box with a cup of water or just a wet piece of kitchen paper for a few days - but putting it in the microwave is a quick remedy which won't last so long; and you add the water so the poor microwaves have somewhere to go!
Anyway - be delighted with how soft the sugar goes. Think how cool science is. Add it to the butter, find it is about 5oz, and add 3oz caster sugar to top it up. Find a new bag for remaining brown sugar and return it to not very airtight container, making a mental note to do something about it one day, probably whilst next in use. Apply big wooden spoon and find, oops, should have left brown sugar in microwave for longer. Attempt to break lumps with spoon. After some time, remove biggest lumps from mixture and put (with buttery mixture and all) into pestle and mortar. Grind them up. Feel suitably avenged. As for the smaller lumps, they will melt into the cake later.
Find out there is no cocoa powder!! How can this be . . . ? Go through cupboards, find only very weak Tesco drinking chocolate. Unwilling to use. Eventually find some dark chocolate. Attempt to grate it. Seems successful until realise said chocolate appears to have filling. Re-read packet several times. Ooops - it's chilli chocolate! Didn't even know there was such a thing. Hmmmm, cake will be interesting now, but too late, flakes already in mixture. Find some more ordinary dark chocolate. Refuses to grate at more than 1 molecule a minute. Get fed up. Break into pieces into mortar. Put mortar in microwave on low power. Works a treat - even while chocolate looks solid, it melts as soon as touched by spoon. Stir into mixture.
Beat eggs, add these, vanilla essence and flour - at least this bit goes right. Finally, add all of the not-very-creamy glass of Tia Maria, and about half of the creamy one. Stir in. Smells wonderful. Put in Aga. Ha ha, didn't need to preheat it. I love Agas.
Now the kitchen is beautifully messy, and aren't I lucky - I have more chocolate grating to do. Get out a wooden chopping board this time. Grate and grate and grate, and finally use a mezzaluna to chop up the tiny bit that refuses to be grated!!
Pour most of a pint of double cream into a bowl. Get an egg-beater and twizzle it for a while. When it starts thickening just a little, but not much, put the remaining cream and Tia Maria together, along with about 1.5 teaspoonfuls of coffee, into the cool oven of the Aga. When this fails to dissolve the coffee, give up and bung it in microwave on a low temperature. Comes out not looking like faintly caramel-coloured cream anymore, but more like rich dark coffee. Add this to cream. Whip in. Cream turns the most delicious colour and smells very professional. When it's got more solid than liquid, then stir in the grated chocolate (I didn't want to do that too soon or the chocolate particles would only get even smaller). Finish whipping until you can barely get the egg beater out. Get as much cream off this as you can, first with knife, then with fingers. Lick fingers. Put bowl of chocolatey, coffee-y, Tia Maria-y cream into fridge.
Get out cakes when they a) are smelling delicious, b) pull back from the tin, c) spring back perfectly when you poke them and d) skewers stuck into them come out clean. Put onto cake rack (bottoms of tins delightfully sticky and bits of brown sugar haven't let me down - pools of dark toffee!). Allow to cool completely before getting out the bowl of cream . . .
. . . smearing it on top of one cake, then adding the other cake, then admiring it . . .
. . . then eating.
And that, my friends, is an added benefit of the Tia Maria experiment.
Traditional recipe for a chocolate cake:
8oz butter
8oz sugar
4 eggs
8oz self-raising flour
4 tablespoons cocoa powder
1 lid full of vanilla essence
(If you are really desperate for grams, let me know. For me, those are for science, and Imperial is for food.)
Preheat oven to Gas Mark 4.
Grease 2 baking tins. Sift the flour and cocoa powder, and set aside.
Put the butter and sugar together in a bowl. Beat them until they are "creamed" - light and fluffy.
Break the eggs into a small bowl, beat with a knife until they are more or less an even mixture. Stir in the vanilla essence. Add about a third of this egg mixture plus a big spoonful of flour into the beaten butter and sugar, and fold in. Keep adding flour and egg until they are all stirred in.
Spoon this mixture evenly into the tins, and cook for 30 or 40 minutes - times vary depending on oven.
How to make cake like Alice
Same quantities as above apply, except that I'm now not 100% sure I didn't only use 4oz butter. Strangely, this didn't seem to upset anything. The cake was moist and really just right.
Put the butter into a bowl and leave it on the Aga to warm, as it's rock-hard from being in the fridge. Sift the flour, and then suddenly remember to grease the tins. Go and find them. Wash the dust out. Doesn't matter. The mixture needs to start cooking quickly if you've stirred the eggs into it, but before that, it's fine to hang about.
Decide that dark brown sugar would go well in a chocolate cake. Only dark brown sugar available is also rock hard, despite being kept in an air tight box (pah!). Take a cleaver to it, bag and all. Chop as hard as if you were trying to behead Marie Antoinette. As it happens, about 5oz worth is just what comes off, clean as a whistle and certainly cleaner than a head. Put this in a small bowl. Fill another small bowl with water. Put these both in the microwave.
No, I haven't gone nuts here - this is actually a tip from Robert Wolke's wonderful "What Einstein Told His Cook", a hilarious food chemistry book that I must review here one day. Brown sugar goes hard because it dries out and behaves like cement. He recommends leaving it in a really airtight box with a cup of water or just a wet piece of kitchen paper for a few days - but putting it in the microwave is a quick remedy which won't last so long; and you add the water so the poor microwaves have somewhere to go!
Anyway - be delighted with how soft the sugar goes. Think how cool science is. Add it to the butter, find it is about 5oz, and add 3oz caster sugar to top it up. Find a new bag for remaining brown sugar and return it to not very airtight container, making a mental note to do something about it one day, probably whilst next in use. Apply big wooden spoon and find, oops, should have left brown sugar in microwave for longer. Attempt to break lumps with spoon. After some time, remove biggest lumps from mixture and put (with buttery mixture and all) into pestle and mortar. Grind them up. Feel suitably avenged. As for the smaller lumps, they will melt into the cake later.
Find out there is no cocoa powder!! How can this be . . . ? Go through cupboards, find only very weak Tesco drinking chocolate. Unwilling to use. Eventually find some dark chocolate. Attempt to grate it. Seems successful until realise said chocolate appears to have filling. Re-read packet several times. Ooops - it's chilli chocolate! Didn't even know there was such a thing. Hmmmm, cake will be interesting now, but too late, flakes already in mixture. Find some more ordinary dark chocolate. Refuses to grate at more than 1 molecule a minute. Get fed up. Break into pieces into mortar. Put mortar in microwave on low power. Works a treat - even while chocolate looks solid, it melts as soon as touched by spoon. Stir into mixture.
Beat eggs, add these, vanilla essence and flour - at least this bit goes right. Finally, add all of the not-very-creamy glass of Tia Maria, and about half of the creamy one. Stir in. Smells wonderful. Put in Aga. Ha ha, didn't need to preheat it. I love Agas.
Now the kitchen is beautifully messy, and aren't I lucky - I have more chocolate grating to do. Get out a wooden chopping board this time. Grate and grate and grate, and finally use a mezzaluna to chop up the tiny bit that refuses to be grated!!
Pour most of a pint of double cream into a bowl. Get an egg-beater and twizzle it for a while. When it starts thickening just a little, but not much, put the remaining cream and Tia Maria together, along with about 1.5 teaspoonfuls of coffee, into the cool oven of the Aga. When this fails to dissolve the coffee, give up and bung it in microwave on a low temperature. Comes out not looking like faintly caramel-coloured cream anymore, but more like rich dark coffee. Add this to cream. Whip in. Cream turns the most delicious colour and smells very professional. When it's got more solid than liquid, then stir in the grated chocolate (I didn't want to do that too soon or the chocolate particles would only get even smaller). Finish whipping until you can barely get the egg beater out. Get as much cream off this as you can, first with knife, then with fingers. Lick fingers. Put bowl of chocolatey, coffee-y, Tia Maria-y cream into fridge.
Get out cakes when they a) are smelling delicious, b) pull back from the tin, c) spring back perfectly when you poke them and d) skewers stuck into them come out clean. Put onto cake rack (bottoms of tins delightfully sticky and bits of brown sugar haven't let me down - pools of dark toffee!). Allow to cool completely before getting out the bowl of cream . . .
. . . smearing it on top of one cake, then adding the other cake, then admiring it . . .
. . . then eating.
And that, my friends, is an added benefit of the Tia Maria experiment.
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