Redux: Stranger in a Foreign Land

This story has little do with science. Unless you consider the science of empathy. We often think of empathy as a form of pity but in ethology that’s not what it is at all. It’s about seeing the world through someone else’s eyes. And nothing has help me more with that than living in Mexico.  
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I know this guy. He’s a good guy – hard working, wants to do right by his wife and kid – but somehow he’s found himself in an unusual position in the debate over US/Mexico immigration.

This fellow adores his home country but also has a healthy sense of wanderlust. Yes he loves his countrymen and his family but also wants to see the world and take on new challenges. So a few years ago he crossed the US/Mexico border in a less-than-legal way.

He could have stayed home, he made enough money to support a meager existence there, but he sensed there were more opportunities if he crossed the border. A better life – more money, better living conditions – and adventure to boot! Imagine the things he would see and the stories he could tell when he got home. He’d be a man of the world.

So he did it. He didn’t have paperwork but he had a plan and he managed to pull it off. And he was right. This new country was everything he’d hoped for – work, adventure, opportunity. Finally he could afford to raise his family and live the life he wanted. He worked hard while socking money away with an eye towards buying a house back home someday – all the while trying desperately to not insult the people around him. Continue reading

The Last Word

October 23 – 27, 2017

Guest Rebecca Boyle takes issue with Cassie’s attitude about neutron star mergers.  Argument sounds a little abstruse but it ends in humane charm: “I’ll stay on Team Neutron Star, and you can watch from the sidelines, and we’ll still be friends.”

Craig finds a woman attractive, reflects that not all #MeToo’s happen to women — I can’t sum this up, you’ll just need to read it. Knives are involved.

Sarah’s out in the outback, hiking with her friends, feeling blissful.  An older woman meeting them says, “It’s so nice to see such healthy young women, enjoying themselves.”  Oh yes.

Christie’s original post that made the Finkbeiner Test — what not to say in a profile of a woman scientist — famous across the entire galaxy was written for a site now dead.  She remedies that.

In light of those merging neutron stars, I remember some lovely gossip about two of the physicists’ heroes who helped think up the neutron stars and black holes both.  They didn’t like each other.

Redux: Johnny and Oppie

So.  Everybody got excited about gravitational waves coming from the mergers of neutron stars and black holes.  My Facebook feed which is full of scientists and science writers got further excited about a newish phrase everybody used, “multimessenger astronomy.”  My Facebook feed agreed that “multimessenger astronomy” is an all-around dreadful phrase.  Not only does it sound corporate and canned but even astronomy writers don’t immediately know what it means.  It means astronomy done not only with the usual messengers, that is, all the wavelengths of light; but also with elementary particles called neutrinos and cosmic rays and of course, with the disturbances in space/time called gravitational waves.  If explaining a name takes a sentence that long and complicated, the name is not good.

During the Facebook conversation, somebody suggested putting the astronomers good at naming things — like, for instance, “dark energy” — in charge of naming everything.  Then somebody else said that John Wheeler had been excellent at it, naming among other things, “black holes.”  At that point I got all pedantic and as any discussion does in the face of pedantry, the Facebook discussion turned in another direction.

Anyway, since black holes are famous again, I thought you’d like to know some gossip about who thought them up in the first place and who named them.  It was a couple of physicists’ heroes who happened also to have thought up the nuclear bomb, Johnny and Oppie.†  They didn’t like each other. Continue reading

The Finkbeiner Test: A Tool for Writing About Women in their Professions

This post was originally published on March 5, 2013 at Double X Science, a now defunct website about women in science. Since then, it’s gotten quite a bit of attention, including a story in the Columbia Journalism Review, a mention in the New York Times, and even its own Wikipedia page. The Finkbeiner Test also has been the subject of a master’s thesis and it’s been used in a European art project. Although it was originally designed as a test for detecting gender bias in profiles of female scientists, it can be applied to any profile of a woman in her profession. Since we published the test, people have asked a lot of questions, and Ann answered some of them recently here. Because the Double X Science website has gone dark, I’m republishing the post here. I’ll be discussing the Finkbeiner Test at the World Conference of Science Journalists in San Francisco today. 

 

Men dominate most fields of science. This is not news, and countless projects have sprung up to address the disparity. There are associations, fellowships, conferences, and clubs for women in science, and with these, efforts to highlight women who are making it in these fields.

Campaigns to recognize outstanding female scientists have led to a recognizable genre of media coverage. Let’s call it “A lady who…” genre. You’ve seen these profiles, of course you have, because they’re everywhere. The hallmark of “A lady who…” profile is that it treats its subject’s sex as her most defining detail. She’s not just a great scientist, she’s a woman! And if she’s also a wife and a mother, those roles get emphasized too.

For instance, in a profile of biologist Jill BargonettiThe New York Times quotes one of Bargonetti’s colleagues saying that, “Jill makes a fantastic role model…because she is married, has two children and has been able to keep up with her research.” It’s hard to imagine anyone saying this about a scientist named Bill. The story’s subtitle piles on, reinforcing the stereotype that women are nurturing and selfless with “A Biologist’s Choice Gives Priority to Students.”

The headline on this recent profile of neuropsychologist Brenda Milner in The Globe and Mail reads, “A scientific pioneer and a reluctant role model.” The piece explains that “Dr. Milner was determined to compete with the best scientists, male or female” and that “Her resistance to being recognized as an outstanding woman seems to stem from her desire to be a great scientist in general.” Yet the article fixates on Milner’s sex as if it’s the most remarkable thing about her. The occasion for the piece, Milter’s induction into the Canadian Science and Engineering Hall of Fame, warrants only a few sentences.

Ann Finkbeiner, my colleague at Last Word On Nothing, has had enough. As she explained here, she plans to write about an impressive astronomer and “not once mention that she’s a woman.” It’s not that Finkbeiner objects to drawing attention to successful female scientists. She’s produced many of these stories herself. The issue, she says, is that when you emphasize a woman’s sex, you inevitably end up dismissing her science. Continue reading

Hike your pants

A couple of weeks ago, I set out through sun-shot low clouds to the North Cascades with my friends Devon and Kate. My truck is a 1998 with an exhaust leak under the cab, so we may or may not have been a little stoned on fumes when we piled out into the overflowing parking lot with two dogs, three bulky packs, and enough snacks to put a hyperphagic grizzly into a coma.

Are you camping up there? people asked a little enviously, as they shuffled by us to their cars.

It was a reasonable question. It was Sunday, after all. It was already 2 p.m. The ground was soupy with new snow. Devon forgot her fleece pants. I forgot my gloves. But the jagged peaks gleamed, and the larches sparked gold along their ridges.

Of course we were camping. We grinned like idiots and housed a bag of salt and vinegar chips. Continue reading

Guest Post: Warm Feelings About the Void (A Rebuttal)

Last week Cassandra Willyard wrote that space bores her, and argued that astronomy writers need to highlight the human drama to hook her and other spacephobes. This is my response.

This essay being one exception that probes the rule, I am a writer who does not get assignments from editors. At best, they ask me to think up something, and then they decide whether they like it enough to want it. But I send those initial emails more often than I receive them: “Just checking in!”

Editors don’t give me assignments not for a shortage of news; they don’t give me assignments because there’s usually no inherent reason for people to care about my subjects, at least not the way there’s an inherent reason for people to care about genomes, or climate change, or earthquakes.*

Beyond our limited self-interest, there are other reasons to ignore space news. It can be hard, both because of pervasive math-phobia and because of its scale and vast remove. It is tenuous and ungraspable, literally by definition. It is unfriendly. The other planets are hellholes, empty but for desolation and death. Galaxies aren’t cute; they don’t spiral around you the way a pangolin might. They don’t make you cough like viruses and bacteria, they don’t change the seasons where you live. They are so far away. So I get it: You don’t have a reason to care. Continue reading

The Last Word

October 16-20

Hello readers of LWON, here’s what kind of mischief we cooked up this week:

Helen started off Monday by showing how she will live forever by eating salad. Not just eating it, but stashing her toppings at work for daily salad prep. The life of a modern agriculturalist, and immortality!

It’s a big year for acorns, and Jenny is being hailed on by many oak seeds. Some trees are putting out 10,000 acorns. Why this year? Read and learn.

Cassie faces her own empty feelings about space and finds herself worked up about  “the neutron star thingamajig.” Not so much a post about stellar collision and gravity waves (though an excellent reading list is included), this is about the generation of interest and respect for a discipline. Who knew there was such human emotion in the tortured void?

Michelle does some serendipitous footwork to find the family story behind the coining of the word “endling” and finds a grandson who remembers the walking encyclopedia of his grandfather.

Christie finishes off the week by lifting our heartbeats into a panic as she has what she describes as the scariest wildlife encounter of her life on a ranch outside of Cody, Wyoming. “HOLY F-ing SHIT!! It was HUGE. And it was’t just barking at me, it was running toward me.” Did she and her dog run into an aggressive wolf?

I Cried Wolf

On August 21, 2017, I woke up shortly after dawn. Peering at the sky through the window in my tent, I saw that it was pale but clear, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I’m not usually an early riser, but on this morning, I was anxious. I’d been anticipating this day for years and had come to this cattle ranch outside Casper, Wyoming to view the Great American Eclipse.

The previous evening, we’d had thunder and a few raindrops after dinner. The forecast for eclipse time was favorable, but still I worried we might wake up to clouds. So when I saw the clear skies that morning, I felt elated. What to do, but go for a run?

While my husband continued snoozing, I laced up my running shoes and called my dog, Molly, out of the tent. Let’s go for a run, I told her. She leaped in the air, as she does, and then led the way.

We ran down an ATV track along a small creek surrounded by open meadows and vast vistas. The air was clear and the sun was bright. My anticipation of the eclipse put a spring in my step. And then we turned a corner and I heard a scary, weird bark.

At first, it struck me as the sound of an aggressive dog. I called Molly close, and the sound continued. I assumed that we’d crossed some other human campsite and their dog was now staking its claim. This worried me so far as it might mean a dog-to-dog encounter, but I wasn’t particularly frightened. Then I looked to the creek on my left.

On the hillside on the other side of the creek, I spotted the coyote making these sounds. Although the aggressive barking sounded nothing like any vocalizations I’ve heard from the coyotes that frequent the space around my farm in Colorado, I felt reassured. It’s just a coyote, I thought.

I kept running, and for a few minutes, all was well. Then I looked down the road and saw the coyote had crossed the creek and was coming for me. Except it wasn’t a coyote. HOLY F-ing SHIT!! It was HUGE. And it wasn’t just barking at me, it was running toward me. It was at least as large as my Catahoula Leopard dog/standard poodle mix — that is, BIG! I looked at Molly and looked at it, and then my heart rate rose to about 230 beats per minute.

Continue reading