This Online Extra is a follow-up to the article “War of the Weasels” from the May/June 2010 issue of the Skeptical Inquirer (Volume 34.3, May/June 2010). The print article discusses the use of a genetic algorithm (GA) to solve tricky math problems and demonstrates that no specific “target” is required for such algorithms, contra the interminable creationist attacks on the “Weasel” simulation discussed in Richard Dawkins's book The Blind Watchmaker. The problem I developed the GA for is called Steiner's Problem; it involves finding the shortest straight-line-segment networks connecting an array of given fixed points. This problem provides a miniature digital playground on the very edge of complexity.

I first became interested in Steiner networks because of their connection to minimal surfaces and to physical analogs like soap films. These are useful in some minimization problems because surface tension in the soap films acts to minimize the total area of film. This property allows Steiner network problems to be solved directly with soap films. First, two parallel clear plates are connected by posts that represent the nodes or “cities” of the problem. Then, the assembly is dipped into a solution of soapy water and then carefully withdrawn to produce the Steiner solution (one hopes).

(Hover over images for more detail)

Figure 1. Soap film realization of Steiner Solution for four-node system.

Here is a soap-film realization of the five-node system. Seven segments are joined with three variable nodes to make the compact network shown—the proper Steiner solution for the five-node system. Again, the segments meet at 120-degree angles.

Figure 2. Soap film realization of Steiner Solution for five-node system.

It wasn’t until I started investigating whether some of the MacGyver solutions could also be realized with soap films that things really got interesting. I quickly found that several of the configurations that evolved from the genetic algorithm could also be obtained with soap films, simply by pulling the parallel plates out of the soap solution at angles other than horizontal. A soap film incarnation of one of the MacGyver shapes appears below.

Figure 3. Soap film realization of “MacGyver” Solution for five-node system.

Not all of the MacGyvers could be obtained with soap films, however. The shape below, which I named the “Face Plant,” features four segments meeting at a common point. While this presents no problem for DNA representations of solutions, it is almost impossible in real soap films, as the junction of four films is invariably a very unstable equilibrium. In soap films, such junctions of four segments will quickly resolve into a bow-tie shape as typified in the solution to a simple four-node Steiner system. The Face Plant turned out to be a MacGyver solution that could easily exist in the genetic algorithm but could not be realized with minimal-surface soap films.

Figure 4. The “Face Plant”: a viable genetic algorithm solution for a five-node system.

As if that wasn’t strange enough, I soon stumbled on the “Doggie”—a stable soap film configuration that never appeared during the genetic algorithms simulations. Even the formal (but topologically tricky) Steiner solution popped out one of two hundred runs on average—why did the Doggie never appear?

Figure 5. The “Doggie”: A viable soap film solution for a five-node system.

After several frustrated attempts at Doggie evolution, I decided to go ahead and do what Dembski implies I am doing for all such shapes—deliberately perform some “genetic engineering” to “front-load” the system with a specified solution. Accordingly, I deduced the DNA configuration for a typical Doggie and forced this particular organism to be present as one individual of the very first generation of a simulation.

“the Doggie” length = 1403

Figure 6. The “Doggie”: a nonviable genetic algorithm solution for a five-node system.

Sure enough, the Doggie was much more fit than most members of the initial (random) population and persisted for several generations. However, at 150 to 200 units longer than all of the MacGyver solutions, it was quickly out-competed and forced to extinction by such fitter solutions. After a dozen generations or so, the Doggie was simply wiped out by the competition.

Had I actually been feeding the proper Steiner solution into the algorithm—“front-loading” in Dembski’s parlance—it would have always triumphed, and I would never have found the bizarre and wonderful world of MacGyver also-rans. The same boring result would also have been obtained had I defined “fitness” as deviation from a single, specific “target”—the proper Steiner solution itself. Either way, I wouldn’t have found that some (but not all) of these new structures could be realized with soap films, and I wouldn’t have found that some stable soap film configurations are far longer than the minimum possible and are not retained in evolutionary algorithms. As I said, I have never been as astonished at the unexpected output of one of my digital programs.

As the ID community flailed about trying to answer the Design Challenge, reader Sam Garret commented, “Can’t they just figure it out with soap bubbles? Assuming they can remember the way to the lab, of course.” Alas, such was not the case.

Notes

The "War of the Weasels" on the Web: http://pandasthumb.org/archives/evolution/evomath

The fact that either of these authors felt the need to write their respective books is, in a way, somewhat bizarre and sad. Charles Darwin published his book On the Origin of Species in 1859; the world has had 150 years to digest and understand evolution, and evidence for Darwin’s theory has grown more robust with each passing year. In an ideal world, Dawkins and Loxton would be chided for wasting their time and effort pointing out the patently self-evident. What’s next, a book explaining to the public that the sun shines upon them every day?

And yet polls and surveys show that a significant number of people (around 40 percent, but depending on the exact poll question) have doubts about evolution. Some of them are creationists, but many others simply have never had evolution explained to them correctly.

Evolution by natural selection is not necessarily clear or intuitive. Evolution is not inherently obvious; it is a slow, complex process with many nuances. Whether stunted by a poor educational system or religious fundamentalists, it is a minor tragedy that one of the greatest scientific ideas in history remains the subject of dispute.

That is why books like The Greatest Show on Earth and Evolution are important. The former is meant for educated adults who want complete, well-rounded information on the evidence for evolution; the latter is aimed at children and teens who want a solid understanding of evolution’s fundamentals. Each is very appropriate for its audience, and paired together both books make a complete evolution literacy package (along with On the Origin of Species, which remains very readable). To be honest, I’ve not had a chance to more than skim Dawkins’s 460-page tome, though I expect it’s excellent. Loxton’s book, with only fifty-five pages and enticing full-color art on every page, is more accessible, and I’ll focus on that.

Loxton has a lot of ground to cover, and he begins by noting that different fossils are found in different geological strata—a fact that suggested to early researchers that many now-extinct animals had once roamed the planet (and much longer ago than most people could imagine). Evolution goes on to touch on a wide variety of subjects related to evolution, from DNA to the alleged “living dinosaur” mokele-mbembe. Along the way, new concepts such as species and mutation are introduced, often in the form of posed questions. Charles Darwin’s experiments are briefly described, including his research into avian inbreeding and the variations in beaks in isolated populations of Galapagos island finches. The elements of evolution are explained in terms that are neither dumbed-down nor too complex for its target audience.

Loxton, editor of Junior Skeptic, also shows off his considerable illustration skills. The book is clearly written for children, and eye-catching graphics are of course a necessity. Every page has one or more enticing, full-color images illustrating everything from dinosaurs to the bird-dinosaur Archaeopteryx to cute, flirty little zebra-like things called Zooks. This helps reinforce the important concept that evolution is not a stale, dry theory dusted off from irrelevant history or science books but instead a real, active process occurring all around us at this very moment. It’s rare to find such an accessible, dynamic treatment of the subject of evolution.

Evolution also wisely anticipates and addresses some of the most common anti-evolution fallacies (such as that the eye is too complex to have evolved naturally). This feature alone makes the book better than other simplified descriptions of evolution because it inoculates readers against bogus creationist arguments they may hear but would be otherwise unable to answer.

While the content of the book is very good, a few elements could have used better organization. For example, there are about a dozen sections that begin with a question. This is a useful way to present information, but the questions appear next to illustrated oval portraits of people whose relevance to the book is unclear. The questions themselves are fine, but I found the associations with anonymous portraits confusing at first. It might have been more effective if the book had begun with two or three recurring characters who would be asking questions on behalf of the reader throughout the book, instead of introducing a different, apparently random face each time. The book also needed a references or further reading section. Though Richard Dawkins is quoted several times in the text, for example, none of his books or articles are mentioned or referenced. Overall, however, these minor issues don’t detract from the book’s presentation and message.

I hope that 150 years from now books on evolution, such as those by Dawkins and Loxton, will be considered obsolete, a redundant parroting of basic facts that every schoolchild knows.

Until then, the world is sorely in need of high-quality, accessible science and skeptical books for teens and children, and Loxton’s book is an excellent and long-overdue introduction to evolution.

Darwin (played by Paul Bettany) struggles to write his books as he battles poor health, internal and external pressures, and personal demons, especially regarding his wife Emma (Jennifer Connelly) and his brightest daughter, Annie (Martha West). In one of the most moving and impassioned scenes, we see Darwin's furor after Annie is punished in Sunday school for questioning her vicar and asking about dinosaurs. Darwin's outrage is palpable as he prepares to confront the priest about punishing his daughter for simply speaking a self-evident scientific truth--not blasphemous impertinence.  

Charles Darwin was clearly a man as enamored with his family as with his study of the world around him. Charles explains the naturalistic world to his children: how a camera works, how the geological strata of rocks tells a story of what happened millions of years ago, and so on. Several fanciful segments appear, essentially miniature documentaries depicting nature's life cycles. Rarely has a film so effectively conveyed a wonderful, humanistic sense of the magic and awe of science. 

When Annie dies, Charles is devastated and struggles to find the faith in himself to complete his book. While Emma takes solace in the idea that their beloved daughter is in heaven with God, Charles can't bring himself to share her comforting belief. Nor is he willing to accept the insulting and feeble “comfort” that Annie's death is part of some greater divine plan; he has studied nature's cruelties and is too much a scientist to pretend that his family is exempt from them.  

While Charles struggles with personal demons, the rest of the world waits for the product of his work. In one pivotal scene, Thomas Huxley (a piss-and-vinegar brimming Toby Jones) confronts Darwin, urging him to complete his long-gestating book. When Darwin says he needs more time and more evidence, Huxley barks: “Mr. Darwin, either you are being disingenuous, or you do not fully understand your own theory. Evidently what is true of the barnacle is true of all creatures--even humans. Clearly the Almighty can no longer claim to have authored all species in under a week. You've killed God, sir. You've killed God.”

Never before has the threat of Darwin's ideas to creationism been so clearly depicted in a mainstream movie. While other films have downplayed or glossed over the friction between On the Origin of Species and the Bible, Creation tackles it head-on. Stephen Jay Gould's conciliatory notion of the non-overlapping magisteria of science and religion is out the window; here we have the bare-knuckled, Richard Dawkins view.

Creation's most remarkable achievement is to humanize one of the most important and influential scientists in history. It's no secret that most scientists in films are depicted in an unflattering light. Horror films often depict scientists as Dr. Frankenstein-like evil geniuses whose experiments bring death and destruction. Comedies show scientists as socially inept nerds obsessed with numbers and data crunching. In the wake of the recent “Climategate controversy,” climate scientists were portrayed as deceitful and conspiratorial hoaxers trying to mislead the public about global warming. Rare indeed are films that show scientists as real humans with problems and struggles who do their best to reveal scientific truths. (A few of the best are Contact, The Dish, and A Beautiful Mind.) 

Creation premiered on the opening night of the 2009 Toronto International Film Festival in September. At the time, Creation producer Jeremy Thomas lamented the fact that the film had not yet found a distributor in the United States. Creation was eventually picked up by Newmarket Films--ironically perhaps best known for releasing Mel Gibson's controversial 2004 religious gorefest The Passion of the Christ.  

The performances in Creation are as remarkable as the script. Paul Bettany evokes Charles Darwin with seeming effortless ease, and truly inhabits the role. His Darwin is deeply conflicted, afraid of how his ideas may hurt those he loves, and wracked with guilt that he may have contributed to Annie's death. Jennifer Connelly is wonderful as Emma, depicting not only her strength and devotion to Charles, but her own conflicted devotion to her faith and her husband's work.

The film was directed by Jon Amiel, from a screenplay written by John Collee, which in turn evolved from the biography Annie's Box, written by one of Darwin's great-great grandsons. Though Creation has been well received, some early reviewers groused that the film is boring; perhaps they were expecting the story of the theory of evolution would be told amidst action-packed swashbuckling and explosions. Creation is beautiful and powerful, with great performances and important ideas about faith, love, loss and truth.

LOS ANGELES, October 24—A study was published in the Journal of Reproductive Medicine claiming that prayers from the USA, Canada, and Australia caused a 100% increase in pregnancy rates among infertility patients in Korea. The surprising results announced by Kwang Cha and associates were widely reported in the news media, including on the ABC news program Good Morning America. However, the study’s credibility was undermined when one of the co-authors, Daniel Wirth, was arrested by the FBI and later pled guilty to fraud. Cha’s other co-author, Columbia University’s Rogerio Lobo, later revealed that he had not participated in the research and withdrew his name from the published findings. Even with one of his co-authors in federal prison and the other disgraced, Korean fertility specialist Kwang Yul Cha stood by the allegedly supernatural study. He eventually filed a defamation lawsuit against Bruce Flamm, a California physician who had published several articles questioning the validity of the Cha/Wirth “pregnancy by prayer” report. The lawsuit, filed in Los Angeles Superior Court in August 2007, was thrown out of court in April 2008. However, in June 2008 Cha took the case to the California Appellate Court. Today the Court of Appeals “affirmed in full” the Superior Court decision and thus ruled that Superior Court Judge James Dunn had acted appropriately in tossing out the lawsuit.

In response to the ruling, Dr. Flamm issued the following statement: “Today’s ruling is a victory for science and evidence-based medicine. Scientists must be allowed to question bizarre claims. Cha’s mysterious study was designed and allegedly conducted by a man who turned out to be a criminal with a 20-year history of fraud. A criminal who steals the identities of dead children to obtain bank loans and passports is not a trustworthy source of research data. Cha could have simply admitted this obvious fact but instead he hired a team of lawyers to punish me for voicing my opinions. Physicians should debate their opinions in medical journals, not in courts of law. Judges have better things to do with their time and taxpayers have better things to do with their money.”

Dr. Flamm is a physician with Kaiser Permanente and a Clinical Professor of Obstetrics and Gynecology at the University of California. He has been the senior investigator on numerous medical studies and has written several books and book chapters.

For more information contact: Janice Goings: 951-288-0937 jangoings@aol.com

One might be excused for wondering what, exactly, German director Roland Emmerich has against the United States. After all, his films (such as Independence Day and The Day After Tomorrow) are known for showing American icons such as the White House and the Statue of Liberty being destroyed.

With his new film 2012, Emmerich ups the ante, depicting a global disaster caused by terrestrial instability. John Cusack stars as Jackson Curtis, a Los Angeles writer whose failed novel causes the end of his marriage. Jackson wants to reunite with his family and ends up (almost literally) going to the ends of the earth to save them. At the same time in Washington, DC, the president’s chief science advisor discovers an impending danger in the earth’s unsettled tectonic plates. He butts heads with the chief of staff over when the information should be made public and who they should tell first.

The film tackles a variety of weighty questions, such as: If the end of the world was coming, what would you do? If only the government knew, who should be told? If there was a way that some people could survive, who should decide who lives and who dies?

In the case of a true global catastrophe, is there really any point to announcing it to the world? Put simply, if everyone’s going to die in thirty-six hours and there’s nothing anyone can do, what’s the point in telling people? Assuming you had perfect knowledge, why bother? Some people would panic, others wouldn’t believe it anyway, and still others would try to write and market their book on it overnight.

These are interesting questions, but they unfortunately get lost amid the film’s shouting, explosions, and crashes. About a half dozen subplots appear, several of them awkwardly aborted in the rush to get to the disaster scenes.

Then there are the implausibilities—and I’m not even talking about Los Angeles sliding into the ocean in such a cinematic fashion. Jackson Curtis has more lives than James Bond and Indiana Jones put together: he literally outruns fireballs and earthquakes, saving the day with each step. But my favorite eye-roller is when almost the entire world has been consumed by fire and flood—except, apparently, the parts that allow a last-minute cell phone call so that two lead characters can share one last scene together.

But to criticize a disaster film for being implausible is a bit silly itself. People don’t go to disaster movies to see rich emotional tapestry or Memento-like airtight logic; they go to see stuff get blown up. And on that level, it succeeds.

Destroying the world is not easy, and the filmmakers used a variety of special effect techniques to bring global disaster to the big screen. From a visual effects standpoint alone, 2012 is a remarkable achievement. The actors were often on moving sets—none of that cheesy original Star Trek technique of throwing actors to the floor while shaking the camera to simulate explosion concussions. In many of the scenes, the objects are actually collapsing around the actors while giant gimbals and hydraulic lifts jostle and jolt the sets. Some of the scenes are remarkably effective (a shot of a giant wave overtaking a cruise ship is genuinely chilling, reminding me of The Perfect Storm), while others look like a cartoonish video game.

The film is basically a retelling of the biblical flood story and has nothing to do with the date 2012. It could have been set in 1995 or 2013, but the 2012 angle made a perfect hook for the film: Why not tie it in with the supposed end of the world, allegedly tied to the end of the Mayan calendar in 2012?

Not surprisingly, Columbia Pictures is taking full advantage of the New Agey 2012 doomsday discussion/panic/concern to help promote the film. Over the past year or so, many people have suggested that the year 2012 will bring some sort of significant change, either catastrophic disaster (as in the film) or perhaps a new age of enlightenment (as in what did not happen with the so-called Harmonic Convergence in 1987). The link between global catastrophe and Mayan calendar-based prophecy is tenuous at best. Some ads for the 2012 film begin with the phrase “The Mayans warned us,” though of course the Mayans did not “warn” anyone—they simply had a calendar system that happens to “end” in 2012, much as our Gregorian calendar “ends” on December 31. The Mayans never said the world would end that year and have shown irritation and contempt for the way that their culture has been co-opted into pop-culture notions and Hollywood blockbuster film promotions.

New Age and doomsday authors have been cranking out 2012-themed books at an amazing pace over the past six months; there are literally tens of thousands of such titles in print, with more hitting bookstores every day. It seems that anyone with access to a keyboard and an opinion on 2012 (or prophecy in general) is out there trying to cash in. It will be interesting to see how many of these books will be for sale on Amazon.com for even one cent on January 1, 2013.

I interviewed the director and cast of 2012 for LiveScience.com; you can see the videos of the interviews online at http://www.newsarama.com/common/media/video/player.php?videoRef=NA_091028_2012-Emmerich#playerTop. Of particular interest to Skeptical Inquirer readers is my interview with Chiwetel Ejiofor, in which he discusses how his character struggles to maintain scientific integrity in the face of political influences. After the Bush administration’s well-publicized antiscience stance and overt attempts to bend scientific research for political ends, this point seems especially relevant.

Though 2012 is not a great film, it does have some interesting pro-science aspects that skeptics should take note of. While John Cusack is the lead star, the hero of the film is really a black scientist, Adrian Helmsley (Chiwetel Ejiofor). Helmsley is the president’s chief science advisor, and it is he who first discovers the impending danger. The film somewhat realistically portrays the difficulties of scientific uncertainty—how sure do you have to be to sound the alarm? This is not an academic question but arises in discussions of scientific prediction on a wide range of topics, from asteroid impacts to global warming.

Not only is the scientist the hero, he is also the film’s major moral compass. There are no evil, white lab-coated scientists in 2012; there are only scientists (and a few nerds thrown in for good measure) doing their best to save humanity. 2012 is a completely humanistic disaster film; the catastrophes are not the work of either angry gods or magic spells but nature itself. The film shows prayer failing miserably to stop the destruction—even the Pope in the Vatican gets smacked away (Emmerich told me he originally wanted to show Mecca being destroyed but didn’t want to risk a fatwa). In the end it is science—hardworking, unglamorous science—that saves the day.

These are wonderful, humanistic, pro-science depictions that I’d hope to see in more films; it’s a shame to see them buried amid so many CGI disasters and explosions in 2012.

The item that attracted my attention was their self-proclaimed EMF Ghost Meter, which is nothing more than a standard EMF (electromagnetic field) detector that detects low-frequency EMFs such as radio and microwaves. I have no beef with Edmund selling EMF detectors (I even have one in my classroom), but what galls me is that they are actually marketing this device by calling it a ghost detector, implicitly giving credence to pseudoscientific flummery. As they say on their Web site: “The preferred unit of paranormal investigators, this Ghost Meter can be used by laymen with professional results. The unit responds instantaneously to EMF fluctuations and spikes in energy with a detecting range of 50 to 1,000 Hz. The VLF range is 1,000 to 20,000 Hz. An easy-to-read LED display and silent on/off push switch make for seamless, simple operation.”

Such devices are often used by so-called ghost hunters as they bumble around in the dark, freaking themselves out at every cool draft of wind and creaky sound. In reality, there is absolutely no reason to think that EMF meters are detecting any kind of “ghostly entities,” as a simple application of Occam’s Razor often shows that what the meters are actually detecting is the low-frequency EM waves given off by nearby lighting fixtures, electrical lines, or even the other equipment carried by the ghost hunters themselves.

But it gets worse. In addition to their Ghost Meter, Edmund is now selling what they call a 3-in-1 Paranormal Research Instrument, which is an EMF meter, a digital temperature sensor, and a flashlight. I suppose Edmund also wants to tap into the gullible “cool breezes and drafts are evidence for a ghost” market along their journey down the paranormal rabbit hole. Edmund has gone even further by selling what it calls a Remote Viewing DVD, which claims the customer can “learn the history and latest applications of this amazing field of ‘intuitive science’ and discover for yourself how to devleop [sic] and use your own RV-ESP skills.”

I recently checked the Edmund Web site, and all of these items are now listed as “temporarily out of stock.” Hopefully, this is because the company is attempting to (tentatively) reverse course, but maybe it’s because they’ve been so successful in marketing woo-woo to the gullible.

To me, as a physics teacher, this discovery is as bad as opening up their catalog to the biology section and finding products for sale that promote creationism. The misleading advertisements and products on the Edmund Web site are unacceptable, and until they change course I will no longer purchase any of their products. Readers who wish to contact Edmund Scientific can reach them at scientifics@edsci.com or 1-800-728-6999.

Dear Outlaw,

After suffering a sharp pain behind my eyeballs, I visited my doctor, who immediately diagnosed the problem. His treatment was to get plenty of rest and apply Head-On to my forehead twice a day. What is a “skeptoid” anyway?

—Forgot to Ask My Doctor

Dear Forgot,

A skeptoid is a mild but sometimes painful protuberance on the brain. Although a specific cause has remained elusive, some scientists theorize that it’s triggered by a “skeptical strain in the brain.” In other words, overindulging in skepticism. Currently, there’s no real cure except for time, although some researchers are tirelessly testing a promising new product, tentatively referred to as “Preparation S.” I suggest you follow your doctor’s advice (think of the Head-On as a placebo), lay off any heavy, irritating doses of skepticism for a while, and avoid tight headgear.

David Hume, Benjamin Franklin, Harry Houdini, Oskar Pfungst, and others did brilliant skeptical investigations in earlier centuries. The modern skeptical movement was formalized relatively recently, led by pioneers such as Martin Gardner, Paul Kurtz, Carl Sagan, James Randi, Ray Hyman, Ken Frazier, Joe Nickell, and others—many of whom still proudly appear in these pages.

There are, of course, dozens more skeptics out there whose names may be slightly less familiar but whose contributions are immeasurable, from Robert Carroll and his skeptics’ dictionary to all of our columnists and contributors. Sadly, skepticism has lost many great champions over the past decade, including Phil Klass, Barry Beyerstein, and Carl Sagan, just to name a few.

Unless we find a way to clone Randi, Kurtz, Nickell, Hyman, and the rest (I’ve been told in confidence that a top-secret project of just such a nature has been underway since 1986 at Area 51), future generations of skeptics will need to step up, join the cause, and carry on the mission.

In fact, a new generation of skeptics is here—the YouTube crowd, the Twitterers, and the texters—and more are on the way. These kids are intelligent, engaged in the world around them, and think critically. The challenge is to provide them not only with support but a context for their skepticism. For, as Shakespeare noted, “What’s past is prologue.” Faith healers, soothsayers, frauds, and others have always been with us and always will be. Recognizing, through examples of careful skeptical research and investigation available in this magazine and elsewhere, that much of the paranormal and pseudoscience is merely old wine in new bottles will arm future generations of skeptics.

Skepticism has found new ways of spreading and new champions to take up the cause. We see many of them in this issue. Justin Trottier discusses how to effectively communicate skepticism and science to younger generations. Barry Karr brings us up to date on CSI’s efforts to reach out to kids, and CFI librarian Timothy Binga reviews some of the best skeptical books for children and young adults. Heidi Anderson gives a mother’s perspective on raising skeptical kids.

This theme carries on in articles by the Center for Inquiry’s own D.J. Grothe on podcasts, Karen Stollznow on blogging, Blake “Dr. Atlantis” Smith on skeptical Web sites, and Tim Farley on video skepticism. Reed Esau tells us about a new program called SkeptiCamp, and Daniel Loxton provides a follow-up to his insightful “Where Do We Go From Here?” essay about the future of skepticism, asking “What Do We Do Next?”

Today’s teens have never known a time when Google and Wikipedia weren’t available to answer any question (accurately or otherwise) with a few clicks. They didn’t grow up watching Cosmos or In Search Of (or even That’s Incredible! or Unsolved Mysteries); their television is largely cable TV dominated by mystery-mongering programming.

I grew up reading about real skeptical investigations by real people like James Randi and fictional ones such as Encyclopedia Brown and Scooby Doo. To modern teens, these are ancient history. To many of them, “skeptical investigation” is symbolized by two mystery-mongering plumbers who moonlight as ghost hunters on the Sci Fi Channel. Young people remain fascinated by the paranormal and unexplained, and they would be interested in the skeptical point of view if they were exposed to it.

The Internet, like any new medium, has been both a blessing and a curse for skeptics. New examples of woo-woo can spread across the globe in a matter of seconds, but with diligence, skeptical commentary can follow closely behind.

Every generation has wrung its hands about “kids today.” During my travels to a conference a few months ago, I saw near-constant refutation of the idea that “people don’t read anymore.” On planes, on subways, and in waiting areas, most people were reading. A few chatted on cell phones, but the majority of them had a newspaper or some best-selling paperback in front of them. Circulation and readership of newspapers and magazines has experienced a steady decline over the past decade, but the reading hasn’t stopped; it’s gone online and found new venues.

I’m also skeptical of the idea that people don’t write. Andrea Lunsford, a Stanford professor researching the writing habits of today’s youth, has found that young people today write far more than previous generations did. Much of it is in the context of online social networking (such as Facebook, MySpace, and Twitter); while this is not the same caliber of writing as analyzing themes in Animal Farm, this self-initiated, non-scholastic discourse is encouraging. Before there was a virtual outlet for an individual’s writing, many Americans wrote very little that was not required outside of academia, a career, or a diary. Just as comic books, graphic novels, and Harry Potter books may be stepping stones to more “serious” literature, kids who instant message each other may one day be writing, or critiquing, great works.

The forms and forums are changing, but science, skepticism, and critical thinking will always be with us. The next generation of skeptics—the activists and leaders of Skepticism 2.0—will forge paths ahead.

—Benjamin Radford, guest editor