Why are some people religious? Putting aside arguments over whether the claims of particular religions have factual validity or not (up-front declaration: I’m an atheist), the existence of wildly varying degrees of religious sensibility in every society studied is quite perplexing for psychologists, sociologists and anthropologists. Some colleagues and I have just had a paper published (PDF here) which attempts to provide a piece of this puzzle, focusing on the relationship between religious beliefs and general intelligence, or IQ.
This is the blog version of a talk I gave on August 13, 2011, at Skeptics on the Fringe at the Edinburgh Festival.
‘Porn’, to quote journalism professor and anti-pornography activist Robert Jensen, ‘is what the end of the world looks like’. I must admit that, until I read this statement (from this book), I rather thought that the apocalypse would be more of the meteor-striking, sun-exploding, fiery-death kind. Instead, Jensen seems to think armageddon will come in an avalanche of breast enhancements, fake grunting, and peroxide.
Let’s not get off on the wrong foot, here: technology is great. I for one simply love flushing toilets, 24-hour rolling news, and spray-on condoms. But despite the near-unimaginable number of problems solved by stellar inventions like these, technology isn’t always the answer. Bear that in mind as we investigate the shiny, sparkly world of ‘brain training’ computer games.
This article was written for the superb new skeptic’s magazine site The 21st Floor, where a wealth of fascinating and humorous information can be found. Go there!
It’s nice to be able to speak in the same language. The American Psychiatric Association’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, currently in its 4th Edition (DSM-IV), gives psychiatrists and clinical psychologists the chance to do just that, being as it is a list of every psychiatric disorder currently known, categorised into useful diagnostic criteria. Well, I say ‘useful’.
Each time a new version of the DSM is in production, a tsunami of controversy rolls across the brain sciences, as researchers into particular mental disorders battle to have their particular interpretations included in the ‘official’ text, which clinicians will then use to diagnose their patients. Now is one of those times – the 5th Edition (DSM5) is on its way, drafted here, and a movement to fill it with rigorous, evidence-based disorders which are more than merely psychiatrist’s figments. Past embarrassments, such as the inclusion in previous editions of homosexuality as a disorder (now thankfully expunged from the manual), constantly come back to haunt the DSM’s writers, and as you can see from articles such as this one decrying the new draft, you can’t please all of the psychologists, all of the time.
There is legitimate criticism of some of the DSM criteria, and there is nonsense. In this 3-part post I’ll first sort the scientific wheat from the desperate, bizarre, anti-psychiatrist chaff. In parts 2 and 3, I’ll discuss a couple of pertinent issues for the DSM5 writers – the validity of a syndrome everyone knows about (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder), and the validity of an entirely new creation (Coercive Paraphilic Disorder).
Allow me to be deeply geeky for a moment here: it seems Dungeons & Dragons was only half right.
Those slavering, lonely sad sacks among you who are familiar with creating characters in this role-playing, roll-dicing game will know that, when you generate your in-game avatar, you are confronted with a list of attributes (such as Strength, Wisdom, and Charisma) from which you choose if you’d like to be a charmingly pathetic weakling, a musclebound oaf, or anywhere in between. You then pick a class (such as Fighter, Wizard, or Thief), which describes how you’ll deal with your exciting adventures – hack ‘n’ slash with a big axe, or cower at the back with Magic Missile.
So the overall message is this: people vary a lot, but you can still put them into a taxonomy of ‘classes’, ways in which they’re comfortable with dealing with the world. And now, as I hit rock bottom in the ‘tortured metaphor to open a blog post’ stakes, I will assess how close a fit the D&D system is to real human psychology.
Last night, my friend Max and I emerged relatively unscathed from a showing of Lars von Trier’s latest picture, Antichrist. You have heard correctly: it is horrendously violent, it is viciously misogynist (and knows it), and does indeed contain a disemboweled, undead fox risibly informing Willem Dafoe that, if it wasn’t obvious by that point in this disorienting, confounding ‘WTF’ of a movie, ‘chaos reigns’. Unexpectedly, none of this necessarily makes it a bad film. I’ll explain.