Remember When Neil deGrasse Tyson Pulled a Steven Pinker?

Responding to the mass shootings in the US last week, the astrophysicist tweeted the world had more pressing issues to deal with, and that “our emotions respond more to spectacle than to data”.

Twitter is, among other things, that place on the internet where people fight over the tips of icebergs. There is often the presumption that what ends up on Twitter has been thought through and carefully condensed to fit into the arbitrary 280-character limit, but then again, there is also ample evidence to the contrary: many of its users get caught up in the tips that they think is all there is. These possibilities cast a dark shadow on Twitter’s claim to represent reality. More often than not, it is its own world, and has nothing to do with the world around it except that it collects the worst opinions from there unto itself. Last night Neil deGrasse Tyson, the astrophysicist and celebrated science communicator, joined in by suggesting the outrage over America’s gun laws are misplaced:

deGrasse Tyson has been one of those people calling attention to how what we are reading about science on the web is often just a pinhole-sized snapshot of a more glorious thing lying hidden from view – just like an iceberg. Reading him on astronomy and cosmology, you would think he is not losing any context and that he is simply presenting what he can in 280 characters on the microblogging platform. Then again, the tweet above appears to be evidence to the contrary: it presumes to contain all the arguments and histories of the five issues it mentions in (exactly) 280 characters and which, in one fell swoop, dismisses all the outrage of the political left.

It is very disappointing the left has been painted as anti-fact and that the right claims to be guided by righteous logic when in fact this is the result of the deeper dismissal of the validity of the social sciences and humanities, which have served throughout history to make facts right and workable in their various contexts. The right has appropriated the importance of quantitative measures – and that alone – and brandishes it like a torch while the world burns below. As Alex Gladstein, chief strategy officer at the Human Rights Foundation and VP of strategy of the Oslo Freedom Forum, recently wrote in the New Republic, “dictators love development statistics” because “they’re an easily faked way to score international points”. Excerpt:

From the development initiatives of Jeffrey Sachs and Bill Gates, to Tony Blair’s despotic partnerships or Tom Friedman championing Chinese autocracy in The New York Times, the last two decades have seen political concerns repeatedly sidelined by development statistics. The classic defence of dictatorship is that without the messy constraints of free elections, free press, and free protests, autocrats can quickly tear down old cities to build efficient new ones, dam rivers to provide electricity, and lift millions out of poverty. The problem with using statistics to sing the praises of autocracy is that collecting verifiable data inside closed societies is nearly impossible. From Ethiopia to Kazakhstan, the data that “proves” that an authoritarian regime is doing good is often produced by that very same regime.

And by attacking the validity of the social sciences and humanities, the left has effectively had the rug pulled out from under its feet, and the intellectual purpose of its existence delegitimised. We are still talking about deGrasse Tyson’s tweet because, in his view, it seems facts are all there is, that data alone should settle the debate and that emotions and spectacles are unnecessarily stretching it out (notwithstanding the psychopathy of expressing this sentiment right after a mass murder). Thousands of other tweets swirl around it in response, telling him that he is right even though the left will eat him alive for it.

Steven Pinker, October 2010. Photo: G ambrus/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY 3.0

Steven Pinker, October 2010. Photo: G ambrus/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY 3.0

You see, the right is the data and the left is the “soft science”, which – Quillette would have you believe – might as well be a synonym for ‘non-data’ and nonsense. And the only challenge the right is prepared to brook, or pretends to be prepared to brook, is numbers: those symbols that work one digit at a time, one character at a time, but which putatively contain everything you need to know about something, no further explanation required. We have seen this exaltation of mathematical logic, and Boolean algebra and lambda calculus and whatever else, before in the revanchist politics of the ‘New Atheism’ movement, and perhaps more recently when a Silicon Valley dude announced he had discovered the field of history.

Also read: Fox, NatGeo to Probe Sexual Misconduct Allegations Against Neil DeGrasse Tyson

Right now, I nor anyone else, don’t have – shouldn’t have – just numbers to rebut deGrasse Tyson’s argument because that is not all there is. But bowing to a personal compulsion to try, I say: deGrasse Tyson is pulling a Steven Pinker (as well as a bit of the “poverty first, Moon/Mars next” fallacy). The first three numbers on the list in his tweet have been on a downward trend for quite some time thanks to a) pharmaceutical innovation, b) increasing awareness of and sensitivity about what those issues actually stand for, and c) policies that open new avenues of treatment and legislation that deters casualties. (However, trends in disease mortality are currently being ‘disrupted’ by the rise of antimicrobial resistanceclimate change and – lest we forget – the lopsided effects of these stressors on already-stressed economies.)

The fourth number, despite being about accidents and not wilful acts of malice actuated by the availability of guns, has also been on the decline (except for a relatively small spike in absolute numbers in 2016):

Credit: Dennis Bratland/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 4.0

Credit: Dennis Bratland/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 4.0

Pinker, a cognitive psychologist at Harvard University, is relevant here because of his disingenuous conclusion that the world is becoming a better place and that cognitive biases are to blame for the left’s unwillingness to acknowledge that. His analyses are problematic because, especially in the domain of environmental action, they drawn upon snapshots of the full picture – as if he is content to work with the tips of icebergs. For example, consider the following excerpt from a rebuttal by George Monbiot to Pinker’s claim that countries become cleaner as they get richer, in the latter’s 2018 book Enlightenment Now:

Pinker suggests that the environmental impact of nations follows the same trajectory, claiming that the “environmental Kuznets Curve” shows they become cleaner as they get richer. To support this point, he compares Nordic countries with Afghanistan and Bangladesh. It is true that they do better on indicators such as air and water quality, as long as you disregard their impacts overseas. But when you look at the whole picture, including carbon emissions, you discover the opposite. The ecological footprints of Afghanistan and Bangladesh (namely the area required to provide the resources they use) are, respectively, 0.9 and 0.7 hectares per person. Norway’s is 5.8, Sweden’s is 6.5 and Finland, that paragon of environmental virtue, comes in at 6.7.

David Bell, a historian, took aim at a different portion of the book, in which Pinker appeared to be blind to the efforts of people who had fought, struggled and bent the arc of justice to serve them, instead labouring with the presumption that people should stop complaining because life has become better of its own volition:

Did Enlightenment forms of reasoning and scientific inquiry lie behind modern biological racism and eugenics? … Not at all, Pinker assures us. That was just a matter of bad science. … But Pinker largely fails to deal with the inconvenient fact that, at the time, it was not so obviously bad science. The defenders of these repellent theories, used to justify manifold forms of oppression, were published in scientific journals and appealed to the same standards of reason and utility upheld by Pinker. “Science” did not by itself inevitably beget these theories … The later disproving of these theories did not just come about because better science prevailed over worse science. It came about as well because of the moral and political activism that forced scientists to question data and conclusions they had largely taken for granted.

deGrasse Tyson, it would seem, has fallen prey to a similar bout of snapshotism: he has cherry-picked one moment in history where the number of gun-deaths (per 48 hours) is lower than the number of deaths due to medical errors, flu, suicide and car accidents, all shorn of the now-denounced context that humankind and all its broken systems are trying to improve them.

What his tweet, which purports to be the whole iceberg in some people’s worldview when in fact it is only the tip, fails to say is that America is doing little to nothing to prevent more gun deaths from happening, and in fact whose political establishment has often condoned the deleterious cultures of white supremacy and “involuntary celibacy” that powers it. If deGrasse Tyson had compared the effects of gun deaths on the conscience of a nation with the global failure to make polluters pay, with rising income inequality, with the decreasing resilience to pandemics in the developing world or with nationalism+xenophobia, he would have been closer to the truth of it: We don’t have to be ashamed of deaths due to medical errors, flu, suicide and car accidents, but we do have to be ashamed of mass murders.

A version of this article was first published on the author’s blog.

When Terror Goes Viral it’s Up to Us to Prevent Chaos

Digital media has the power to inform, but it is also helping some to spread hate.

Digital media has the power to inform, but it is also helping some to spread hate.

A man crosses the Hope Memorial Bridge behind an anti-Trump protest to coincide with the Republican National Convention in Cleveland, Ohio, U.S., July 21, 2016. Andrew Kelly, Reuters/Files

A man crosses the Hope Memorial Bridge behind an anti-Trump protest to coincide with the Republican National Convention in Cleveland, Ohio, U.S., July 21, 2016. Credit: Andrew Kelly, Reuters/Files

The scent of chaos hangs heavy in the air. Donald Trump evokes it in Cleveland. ISIS sows it in Nice, Brussels, Paris, Orlando. Britain is immersed in it after Brexit, while the EU struggles to prevent its onset amid mounting crises of migration and political legitimacy. Ukraine and Syria are being torn apart by it, and Turkey looks fragile after a failed coup.

To apply a metaphor from the science of chaos, we are, it seems, in a moment of phase transition. A state of relative global order – the Long Peace, as Steven Pinker describes it in The Better Angels Of Our Nature – has existed since 1945. We’re now moving into a new configuration of competing powers and ideologies, the structure of which we cannot predict, except to assume that it will be very different from what we have known.

The intervening period of transition, which we may have entered, could be chaotic, destructive and violent to a degree that no one born after 1945 in the industrialised countries that constructed the post-war order can imagine.

The great battles of the era now underway or emerging are not those which dominated the late 20th century – left versus right, east versus west, communist versus capitalist. Since the fall of the Berlin Wall, these binaries have had less and less relevance. It is the dark forces of nationalism and religious sectarianism that now drive global politics, fuelling the rise of a crude, xenophobic populism in the advanced capitalist world that we have not seen since the 1930s.

Trump is the most vivid manifestation of it, but we see it everywhere we look, in formerly stable social democracies – Germany, Denmark, the UK, France, Greece, even Australia, where the demagogue Pauline Hanson’s One Nation party was returned to the senate in the recent election. Appeals to nationalism and fear of the ‘other’ are replacing notions of collective security, common interest and the moral duty to care for those in need such as asylum seekers.

Trump openly praises Putin and Saddam Hussein for their leadership and effectiveness (which in Saddam’s case, lest we forget, included the use of chemical weapons on his own people). NATO, he declares, is past its sell-by date, as are all international climate change and trade agreements which he judges to be against America’s interests.

People continue to flee violence from forces loyal to Islamic State. Credit: Rodi Said, Reuters/Files

The internet destabilises

In 2006, two years before the global financial crisis, and five years after al Qaida’s September 11 attacks on New York and the Pentagon, I wrote about the cultural chaos then emerging as an unforeseen, unintended consequence of the internet.

“Its roots,” I wrote then, “lie first in the destabilising impact of digital communication technologies … Not only is there more information out there, the speed of its flow has increased. The networked nature of the online media means that an item posted in one part of the world immediately becomes accessible to anyone with a PC and an internet connection, anywhere else – linked, signposted, rapidly becoming part of the common conversation for millions”.

As a consequence, I argued, established elite power was leaking away, becoming more porous. As 9/11 showed, we had entered a world where affluent, stable democracies were vulnerable as never before to disproportionate disruption by terrorism. A world where policy – as in the case of the EU and the current migrant crisis – was driven not by rational calculation, so much as the power of testimonies, narratives and images captured and shared on digital media.

No one doubts the humanitarian impulse underpinning Angela Merkel’s decision to offer open house to millions of refuges from the Middle East. This policy was fuelled by distressing, globally networked accounts of desperate people drowning in Mediterranean waters, and pictures of children dead on the tourist beaches of southern Europe.

But if it contributes to the rising influence of anti-immigrant party, Alternative for Germany (AfD), and the rise to power of its equivalents in France, Italy, the Netherlands, it will come to be seen as having hastened the fragmentation of the European Union; to have been an ill-considered response to a crisis amplified and intensified by 24-hour, always on, real time news and social media culture.

Supporters of anti-immigration right-wing movement PEGIDA demand the resignation of German Chancellor Angela Merkel. Credit: Wolfgang Rattay, Reuters/Files

Notwithstanding the huge benefits brought to people and societies all over the world by the internet, then, it also presents challenges to the capacity for the good governance and rational decision making on which our collective well-being depends. In a world where information of all kinds – nasty as well as nice, false, as easily as true – travels faster, further, and with fewer possibilities for censorship than ever before in human history, authority and the exercise of power are uniquely precarious.

Greater transparency and accountability of governing elites – what Sydney University professor John Keane calls ‘monitory democracy‘ – remains a positive benefit of digital technology. The internet made WikiLeaks, and the revelations of Edward Snowden and the Panama Papers possible. It gave every digitally networked individual on the planet all nine volumes of Sir John Chilcot’s report with its devastatingly forensic details of how and why Tony Blair took Britain to war with Iraq in 2003. You may choose not to read it, but it will be your choice, and no-one else’s.

If power is built on knowledge, and effective democracy requires that citizens be informed about their environment, the age of digitalisation has also been one of global democratisation. It has made popular challenge to authoritarian rule easier to organise (if not necessarily to succeed). Cultural chaos, like chaos in nature, can be a constructive as well as destructive force.

Fear is contagious

This media environment sees isolated events which would once have been of mainly local importance, such as the Lindt Café siege in Sydney (a “lone wolf” terrorist attack in which two people were killed), become global in their impacts through the immediacy and visceral nature of their media coverage. But it is also an efficient way to disseminate anxiety, panic and fear.

Trump understands this, and uses Twitter like no other presidential candidate before him. He is able to further stir up his already enraged constituency with simplistic, authoritarian solutions to complex social problems like illegal migration and global terrorism.

ISIS, like al Qaida before it, understands it. Jihadi John cuts off the head of an American or Japanese journalist, and the uploaded, socially networked video becomes a weapon of mass psychic torture, spreading virally.

Some Britons voted for Brexit because they had seen those videos, or heard about them. They believe they can be quarantined from radical Islamism by rejecting Merkel’s humanitarianism and closing the doors on the continent.

September 11 cost al Qaida $500,000. It cost the world trillions in military expeditions, heightened airport security and other responses, not to mention the hundreds of thousands of deaths inflicted in the “war against terror” since 2001. ISIS atrocity videos are well produced, but cheap to make, and the communicative power of digital networks does the rest. They are at the heart of a new kind of asymmetrical warfare.

The chaos Edward Lorenz described in nature applies also to our globalised, digitised societies. From small bifurcations in the social fabric emerge catastrophic, potentially system-destroying consequences.

One crisis feeds into another. Trump’s success fuels French National Front leader Marine Le Pen. The UK Independence Party’s Nigel Farage encourages Putin in his dream of winning back Ukraine and the Baltic states. And as the mass murderer of Nice follows the attack at Ataturk airport, both outdone by the atrocity of Bataclan, we enter a period of cascading, interconnected crises, where ‘black swan’ moments become part of everyday life, and the unthinkable becomes mainstream.

The majority of us don’t want to build walls. Credit: Mario Anzuoni,Reuters/Files

Is it too late?

Have we reached the tipping point between order and chaos at the global level? Is it too late to stop this slide backwards into the vortex of violent nationalism, sectarian hatred and authoritarianism that caused World War II? After a century of unparalleled progress in democratisation and the extension of human rights to women, ethnic and sexual minorities, are we now at the top of the ladder, the peak of a cycle, with nowhere to go but down?

No one knows, because by definition the onset of chaos is non-linear and unpredictable. Its precise causes are impossible to identify, and its consequences unknowable.

Personally, I think not. I believe not, because I am an optimist and I have confidence in the essential goodness of most people.

We – that is, those of us who don’t wish to build walls, or erect borders where there were none, or to prevent others from harbouring beliefs, religions or values different to our own – are still the majority, as far as I can see. Our law governed liberal states still define the rules and set the tone for global culture and politics. Barack Obama won two elections with convincing majorities.

If we can engage in this global struggle with the same confidence and commitment as the other side engage in their jihads and nationalist hate-mongering and fascistic public gatherings, not with military hardware but with ideas and words, it is not too late.

The journalists of Charlie Hebdo did that, and paid the price. Human rights activist called for reformation of Islam, and has been condemned not only by the mullahs who regard her an apostate but by some western non-Muslims for doing so. We must support voices like Ali’s, and add to them, at the same time as we challenge the racists and xenophobes who are feeding off fundamentalist Islam’s excesses.

That the global system is under unprecedented stress is by now undeniable. The role of the digital media in increasing that stress is also clear, as is its potential to be utilised for progressive reform and democratic accountability. We have to be wise in responding to the first, and smart about fulfilling the second. As to their impact on political outcomes, that remains stubbornly unpredictable. The Arab Spring failed to become a summer.

With that knowledge, all we can do is what we must do. Resist the censors, the haters, the authoritarians, religious and secular, the builders of walls, and declare them the enemy of us all, this human race, which will not be dragged against its will into a new dark age.

 

Brian McNair is the author of Cultural Chaos. His new book is Communication and Political Crisis (Peter Lang, 2016).The Conversation

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.