Microbial rights?

Our ability to disrupt habitats and manipulate living organisms requires a discussion of the ethics of microbiology, even if we argue that microbes themselves have no rights.Synthetic biology and the increasing complexity of molecular biology have brought us to the stage at which we can synthesize new microorganisms. This has generated pressing questions about whether these new organisms have any place in our system of ethics and how we should treat them.The idea that microbes might have some moral claims on us beyond their practical uses or instrumental value is not a new question. Microbiologist Bernard Dixon (1976) presciently asked whether it was ethical to take the smallpox virus to extinction at the height of the attempts of the World Health Organization in the 1970s to eradicate it. There is no unambiguous answer. Today, we might still ask this question, but we might extend it to ask whether the destruction or extinction of a synthetic microbe that was made by humans is also ethically questionable or is such an entity—in that it is designed—more like a machine, which we have no compunction in terminating? Would two lethal pathogens, one of them synthetic and one of them natural, but otherwise identical, command the same moral claims?In a colloquial way, we might ask whether microbes have rights. In previous papers (Cockell, 2004) I have discussed the ‘rights'' of microbes and further explored some issues about the ethics we apply to them (Cockell, 2008). Julian Davies, in a recent opinion article in EMBO reports (Davies, 2010) described my assertion that they should have constitutional rights as ‘ridiculous''. Although I did suggest that environmental law could be changed to recognize the protection of microbial ecosystems—which would imply statutory rights or protection—nowhere have I claimed that microbes should have ‘constitutional'' rights. Nevertheless, this misattribution provides a useful demonstration of the confusion that exists about exactly how we should treat microbes.Few people are in any doubt that microbes should be conserved for their direct uses to humans, for example, in food and drug production, and their indirect uses such as the crucial role they have in the health of ecosystems. Indeed, these motivations can be used to prioritize microbial conservation and protection efforts (Cockell & Jones, 2009). The crucial question is whether microbes have ‘intrinsic value'' beyond their practical uses. If the answer is ‘no'', then we should have no guilt about deliberately driving microbes to extinction for our benefit. However, there are people who feel uneasy with this conclusion, a feeling that calls forth more complex ethical questions.The question is whether microbes have some sort of ‘interests'' that make demands on our treatment of them that go beyond a mere utilitarian calculation. These arguments themselves question what we define as ‘interests'' and whether interests make demands on us. A microbe has no future plans or thought processes; the sorts of interests that are accepted as being of sufficient scope to place demands on our treatment of other human beings, for instance. However, microbes do have biological interests. A halophilic microbe might eventually die if it is dropped into freshwater. Does our knowledge of what is in the biological interests of a microbe mean that we must show it any consideration beyond practical uses? The answer is not obviously negative (Taylor, 1981), but even if we decide that it is, this does not let us off the hook quite yet.There are other intrinsic value arguments that are more obscure, particularly those around the notion of ‘respect''; the idea that we should show empathy towards the trajectory, however deterministic, of other life forms. These unquantifiable and controversial arguments might, nevertheless, partly explain any unease that we have in watching a group of people smash up and destroy some exquisite microbial mats, just because they were bored.Clearly, human instrumental needs do trump microbes at some level. If they did not, we could not use bleach in our houses, an absurd end-point raised in a 1970s science fiction story that explored the futuristic ramifications of full microbial rights, in which household bleaches and deodorants are banned (Patrouch, 1977).However, we should not be so quick to ridicule ideas about microbial ethics and rights. Although it might be true that phages kill a large percentage of the bacterial population of the world every few days, as Julian Davies points out, human society has achieved an unprecedented capacity for destruction and creation. Our ability to poison and disrupt habitats has been unquantified, with respect to the loss of microbial species. Both synthetic biology and bioterrorism raise the spectre of creating new organisms, including pathogens, which we might need to control or deliberately pursue to extinction. Dixon''s dilemma about the smallpox virus, raised more than 30 years ago, has become an urgent point of discussion in the ethics of molecular biology and microbiology.     

Wallace’s Other Line: Human Biogeography and Field Practice in the Eastern Colonial Tropics

This paper examines how the 19th-century British naturalist Alfred Russel Wallace used biogeographical mapping practices to draw a boundary line between Malay and Papuan groups in the colonial East Indies in the 1850s. Instead of looking for a continuous gradient of variation between Malays and Papuans, Wallace chose to look for a sharp discontinuity between them. While Wallace’s “human biogeography” paralleled his similar project to map plant and animal distributions in the same region, he invoked distinctive “mental and moral” features as more decisive than physical ones. By following Wallace in the field, we can see his field mapping practices in action – how he conquered the problem of local particularity in the case of human variation. His experiences on the periphery of expanding European empires, far from metropolitan centers, shaped Wallace’s observations in the field. Taking his cues from colonial racial categories and his experiences collaborating with local people in the field, Wallace constructed the boundary line between the Malay and Papuan races during several years of work in the field criss-crossing the archipelago as a scientific collector. This effort to map a boundary line in the field was a bold example of using the practices of survey science to raise the status of field work by combining fact gathering with higher-level generalizing, although the response back in the metropole was less than enthusiastic. Upon his return to Britain in the 1860s, Wallace found that appreciation for observational facts he had gathered in the field was not accompanied by agreement with his theoretical interpretations and methods for doing human biogeography.     

Faces in a Crowd: High Socially Anxious Individuals Estimate that More People Are Looking at Them than Low Socially Anxious Individuals

Background

People with social anxiety disorder are afraid of being scrutinized by others and often feel that they are the excessive focus of other people''s attention. This study investigated whether, when compared to low socially anxious individuals, high socially anxious individuals overestimate the proportion of people in a crowd who are observing them. It was hypothesized that any potential overestimation would be modulated by self-focused attention.

Method

Forty-eight high and 48 low socially anxious participants performed a “faces in a crowd” computer task during which they briefly saw matrices of faces, which varied in terms of the proportion of people who were looking at them. Participants estimated the proportion of people who were looking at them. The task was performed once with mirrors present (to induce an enhanced self-focused state) and once without mirrors present (neutral state).

Results

Participants'' subjective estimates and the objective proportion of faces looking towards them were strongly correlated in both the high and low socially anxious groups. However, high socially anxious participants estimated that more people were looking at them than low socially anxious participants. In the first phase of the experiment, but not in the later phases, this effect was magnified in the mirror condition.

Discussion

This study provides preliminary evidence of a social anxiety related perceptual difference that may be amplified by self-focused attention. Clinical implications are discussed.     

How many scientists does it take to change a paradigm?: New ideas to explain scientific observations are everywhere—we just need to learn how to see them

The scientific process requires a critical attitude towards existing hypotheses and obvious explanations. Teaching this mindset to students is both important and challenging.People who read about scientific discoveries might get the misleading impression that scientific research produces a few rare breakthroughs—once or twice per century—and a large body of ‘merely incremental'' studies. In reality, however, breakthrough discoveries are reported on a weekly basis, and one can cite many fields just in biology—brain imaging, non-coding RNAs and stem cell biology, to name a few—that have undergone paradigm shifts within the past decade.The truly surprising thing about discovery is not just that it happens at a regular pace, but that most significant discoveries occurred only after the scientific community had already accepted another explanation. It is not merely the accrual of new data that leads to a breakthrough, but a willingness to acknowledge that a problem that is already ‘solved'' might require an entirely different explanation. In the case of breakthroughs or paradigm shifts, this new explanation might seem far-fetched or nonsensical and not even worthy of serious consideration. It is as if new ideas are sitting right in front of everyone, but in their blind spots so that only those who use their peripheral vision can see them.Scientists do not all share any single method or way of working. Yet they tend to share certain prevalent attitudes: they accept ‘facts'' and ‘obvious'' explanations only provisionally, at arm''s length, as it were; they not only imagine alternatives, but—almost as a reflex—ask themselves what alternative explanations are possible.When teaching students, it is a challenge to convey this critical attitude towards seemingly obvious explanations. In the spring semester of 2009, I offered a seminar entitled The Process of Scientific Discovery to Honours undergraduate students at the University of Illinois-Chicago in the USA. I originally planned to cover aspects of discovery such as the impact of funding agencies, the importance of mentoring and hypothesis-driven as opposed to data-driven research. As the semester progressed, however, my sessions moved towards ‘teaching moments'' drawn from everyday life, which forced the students to look at familiar things in unfamiliar ways. These served as metaphors for certain aspects of the process by which scientists discover new paradigms.For the first seven weeks of the spring semester, the class read Everyday Practice of Science by Frederick Grinnell [1]. During the discussion of the first chapter, one of the students noted that Grinnell referred to a scientist generically as ‘she'' rather than ‘he'' or the neutral ‘he or she''. This use is unusual and made her vaguely uneasy: she wondered whether the author was making a sexist point. Before considering her hypothesis, I asked the class to make a list of assumptions that they took for granted when reading the chapter, together with the possible explanations for the use of ‘she'' in the first chapter, no matter how far-fetched or unlikely they might seem.For example, one might assume that Frederick Grinnell or ‘Fred'' is from a culture similar to our own. How would we interpret his behaviour and outlook if we knew that Fred came from an exotic foreign land? Another assumption is that Fred is male; how would we view the remark if we discover that Frederick is short for Fredericka? We have equally assumed that Fred, as with most humans, wants us to like him. Instead, perhaps he is being intentionally provocative in order to get our attention or move us out of our comfort zone. Perhaps he planted ‘she'' as a deliberate example for us to discuss, as he does later in the second chapter, in which he deliberately hides a strange item in plain sight within one of the illustrations in order to make a point about observing anomalies. Perhaps the book was written not by Fred but by a ghost writer? Perhaps the ‘she'' was a typo?The truly surprising thing about discovery is […] that most significant discoveries occurred only after the scientific community had already accepted another explanationLooking for patterns throughout the book, and in Fred''s other writing, might persuade us to discard some of the possible explanations: does ‘she'' appear just once? Does Fred use other unusual or provocative turns of phrase? Does Fred discuss gender bias or sexism explicitly? Has anyone written or complained about him? Of course, one could ask Fred directly what he meant, although without knowing him personally, it would be difficult to know how to interpret his answer or whether to take his remarks at face value. Notwithstanding the answer, the exercise is an important lesson about considering and weighing all possible explanations.Arguably, the most prominent term used in science studies is the notion of a ‘paradigm''. I use this term with reluctance, as it is extraordinarily ambiguous. For example, it could simply refer to a specific type of experimental design: a randomized, placebo-controlled clinical trial could be considered a paradigm. In the context of science studies, however, it most often refers to the idea of large-scale leaps in scientific world views, as promoted by Thomas Kuhn in The Structure of Scientific Revolutions [2]. Kuhn''s notion of a paradigm can lead one to believe—erroneously in my opinion—that paradigm shifts are the opposite of practical, everyday scientific problem-solving.A paradigm is recognized by the set of assumptions that an observer might not realize he or she is making…Instead, I propose here a definition of ‘paradigm'' that emphasizes not the nature of the problem, the type of discovery or the scope of its implications, but rather the psychology of the scientist. A scientist viewing a problem or phenomenon resides within a paradigm when he or she does not notice, and cannot imagine, that an alternative way of looking at things needs to be considered seriously. Importantly, a paradigm is not a viewpoint, model, interpretation, hypothesis or conclusion. A paradigm is not the object that is viewed but the lenses through which it is viewed. A paradigm is recognized by the set of assumptions that an observer might not realize he or she is making, but which imply many automatic expectations and simultaneously prevent the observer from seeing the issue in any other fashion.For example, the teacher–student paradigm feels natural and obvious, yet it is merely set up by habit and tradition. It implies lectures, assignments, grades, ways of addressing the professor and so on, all of which could be done differently, if we had merely thought to consider alternatives. What feels most natural in a paradigm is often the most arbitrary. When we have a birthday, we expect to have a cake with candles, yet there is no natural relationship at all between birthdays, cakes and candles. In fact, when something is arbitrary or conventional yet feels entirely natural, that is an important clue that a paradigm is present.It is certainly natural for people to colour their observations according to their expectations: “To a man with a hammer, everything looks like a nail,” as Mark Twain put it. However, this is a pitfall that scientists (and doctors) must try hard to avoid. When I was a first-year medical student at Albert Einstein College of Medicine in New York City, we took a class on how to approach patients. As part of this course, we attended a session in which a psychiatrist interviewed a ‘normal, healthy old person'' in order to understand better the lives and perspectives of the elderly.A man came in, and the psychiatrist began to ask him some benign questions. After about 10 minutes, however, the man began to pause before answering; then his answers became terse; then he said he did not feel well, excused himself and abruptly left the room. The psychiatrist continued to lecture to the students for another half-hour, analysing and interpreting the halting responses in terms of the emotional conflicts that the man was experiencing. ‘Repression'', ‘emotional blocks'', and ‘reaction formation'' were some of the terms bandied about.However, unbeknown to the class, the man had collapsed just on the other side of the classroom door. Two cardiologists happened to be walking by and instantly realized the man was having an acute heart attack. They instituted CPR on the spot, but the man died within a few minutes.The psychiatrist had been told that the man was healthy, and thus interpreted everything that he saw in psychological terms. It never entered his mind that the man might have been dying in front of his eyes. The cardiologists saw a man having a heart attack, and it never entered their minds that the man might have had psychological issues.The movie The Sixth Sense [3] resonated particularly well with my students and served as a platform for discussing attitudes that are helpful for scientific investigation, such as “keep an open mind”, “reality is much stranger than you can imagine” and “our conclusions are always provisional at best”. Best of all, The Sixth Sense demonstrates the tension that exists between different scientific paradigms in a clear and beautiful way. When Haley Joel Osment says, “I see dead people,” does he actually see ghosts? Or is he hallucinating?…when scientists reach a conclusion, it is merely a place to pause and rest for a moment, not a final destinationIt is important to emphasize that these are not merely different viewpoints, or different ways of defining terms. If we argued about which mountain is higher, Everest or K2, we might disagree about which kind of evidence is more reliable, but we would fundamentally agree on the notion of measurement. By contrast, in The Sixth Sense, the same evidence used by one paradigm to support its assertion is used with equal strength by the other paradigm as evidence in its favour. In the movie, Bruce Willis plays a psychologist who assumes that Osment must be a troubled youth. However, the fact that he says he sees ghosts is also evidence in favour of the existence of ghosts, if you do not reject out of hand the possibility of their existence. These two explanations are incommensurate. One cannot simply weigh all of the evidence because each side rejects the type of evidence that the other side accepts, and regards the alternative explanation not merely as wrong but as ridiculous or nonsensical. It is in this sense that a paradigm represents a failure of imagination—each side cannot imagine that the other explanation could possibly be true, or at least, plausible enough to warrant serious consideration.The failure of imagination means that each side fails to notice or to seek ‘objective'' evidence that would favour one explanation over the other. For example, during the episodes when Osment saw ghosts, the thermostat in the room fell precipitously and he could see his own breath. This certainly would seem to constitute objective evidence to favour the ghost explanation, and the fact that his mother had noticed that the heating in her apartment was erratic suggests that the temperature change was not simply another imagined symptom. But the mother assumed that the problem was in the heating system and did not even conceive that this might be linked to ghosts—so the ‘objective'' evidence certainly was not compelling or even suggestive on its own.Osment did succeed eventually in convincing his mother that he saw ghosts, and he did it in the same way that any scientist would convince his colleagues: namely, he produced evidence that made perfect sense in the context of one, and only one, explanation. First, he told his mother a secret that he said her dead mother had told him. This secret was about an incident that had occurred before he was born, and presumably she had never spoken of it, so there was no obvious way that he could have learned about it. Next, he told her that the grandmother had heard her say “every day” when standing near her grave. Again, the mother had presumably visited the grave alone and had not told anyone about the visit or about what was said. So, the mother was eventually convinced that Osment must have spoken with the dead grandmother after all. No other explanation seemed to fit all the facts.Is this the end of the story? We, the audience, realize that it is possible that Osment had merely guessed about the incidents, heard them second-hand from another relative or (as with professional psychics) might have retold his anecdotes whilst looking for validation from his mother. The evidence seems compelling only because these alternatives seem even less likely. It is in this same sense that when scientists reach a conclusion, it is merely a place to pause and rest for a moment, not a final destination.Near the end of the course, I gave a pop-quiz asking each student to give a ‘yes'' or ‘no'' answer, plus a short one-sentence explanation, to the following question: Donald Trump seems to be a wealthy businessman. He dresses like one, he has a TV show in which he acts like one, he gives seminars on wealth building and so on. Everything we know about him says that he is wealthy as a direct result of his business activities. On the basis of this evidence, are we justified in concluding that he is, in fact, a wealthy businessman?About half the class said that yes, if all the evidence points in one direction, that suffices. About half the class said ‘no'', the stated evidence is circumstantial and we do not know, for example, what his bank balance is or whether he has more debt than equity. All the evidence we know about points in one direction, but we might not know all the facts.Even when looked at carefully, not every anomaly is attractive enough or ‘ripe'' enough to be pursued when first noticedHow do we know whether or not we know all the facts? Again, it is a matter of imagination. Let us review a few possible alternatives. Maybe his wealth comes from inheritance rather than business acumen; or from silent partners; or from drug running. Maybe he is dangerously over-extended and living on borrowed money; maybe his wealth is more apparent than real. Maybe Trump Casinos made up the role of Donald Trump as its symbol, the way McDonald''s made up the role of Ronald McDonald?Several students complained that this was a ridiculous question. Yet I had posed this just after Bernard Madoff''s arrest was blanketing the news. Madoff was known as a billionaire investor genius for decades and had even served as the head of the Securities and Exchange Commission. As it turned out, his money was obtained by a massive Ponzi scheme. Why was Madoff able to succeed for so long? Because it was inconceivable that such a famous public figure could be a common con man and the people around him could not imagine the possibility that his livelihood needed to be scrutinized.To this point, I have emphasized the benefits of paying attention to anomalous, strange or unwelcome observations. Yet paradoxically, scientists often make progress by (provisionally) putting aside anomalous or apparently negative findings that seem to invalidate or distract from their hypothesis. When Rita Levi-Montalcini was assaying the neurite-promoting effects of tumour tissue, she had predicted that this was a property of tumours and was devastated to find that normal tissue had the same effects. Only by ‘ignoring'' this apparent failure could she move forward to characterize nerve growth factor and eventually understand its biology [4].Another classic example is Huntington disease—a genetic disorder in which an inherited alteration in the gene that encodes a protein, huntingtin, leads to toxicity within certain types of neuron and causes a progressive movement disorder associated with cognitive decline and psychiatric symptoms. Clinicians observed that the offspring of Huntington disease patients sometimes showed symptoms at an earlier age than their parents, and this phenomenon, called ‘genetic anticipation'', could affect successive generations at earlier and earlier ages of onset. This observation was met with scepticism and sometimes ridicule, as everything that was known about genetics at the time indicated that genes do not change across generations. Ascertainment bias was suggested as a much more probable explanation; in other words, once a patient is diagnosed with Huntington disease, their doctors will look at their offspring much more closely and will thus tend to identify the onset of symptoms at an earlier age. Eventually, once the detailed genetics of the disease were understood at the molecular level, it was shown that the structure of the altered huntingtin gene does change. Genetic anticipation is now an accepted phenomenon.…in fact, schools teach a lot about how to test hypotheses but little about how to find good hypotheses in the first placeWhat does this teach us about discovery? Even when looked at carefully, not every anomaly is attractive enough or ‘ripe'' enough to be pursued when first noticed. The biologists who identified the structure of the abnormal huntingtin gene did eventually explain genetic anticipation, although they set aside the puzzling clinical observations and proceeded pragmatically according to their (wrong) initial best-guess as to the genetics. The important thing is to move forward.Finally, let us consider the case of Grigori Perelman, an outstanding mathematician who solved the Poincaré Conjecture a few years ago. He did not tell anyone he was working on the problem, lest their ‘helpful advice'' discourage him; he posted his historic proof online, bypassing peer-reviewed journals altogether; he turned down both the Fields Medal and a million dollar prize; and he has refused professorial posts at prestigious universities. Having made a deliberate decision to eschew the external incentives associated with science as a career, his choices have been written off as examples of eccentric anti-social behaviour. I suggest, however, that he might have simply recognized that the usual rules for success and the usual reward structure of the scientific community can create roadblocks, which had to be avoided if he was to solve a supposedly unsolvable problem.If we cannot imagine new paradigms, then how can they ever be perceived, much less tested? It should be clear by now that the ‘process of scientific discovery'' can proceed by many different paths. However, here is one cognitive exercise that can be applied to almost any situation. (i) Notice a phenomenon, even if (especially if) it is familiar and regarded as a solved problem; regard it as if it is new and strange. In particular, look hard for anomalous and strange aspects of the phenomenon that are ignored by scientists in the field. (ii) Look for the hidden assumptions that guide scientists'' thinking about the phenomenon, and ask what kinds of explanation would be possible if the assumptions were false (or reversed). (iii) Make a list of possible alternative explanations, no matter how unlikely they seem to be. (iv) Ask if one of these explanations has particular appeal (for example, if it is the most elegant theoretically; if it can generalize to new domains; and if it would have great practical impact). (v) Ask what kind of evidence would allow one to favour that hypothesis over the others, and carry out experiments to test the hypothesis.The process just outlined is not something that is taught in graduate school; in fact, schools teach a lot about how to test hypotheses but little about how to find good hypotheses in the first place. Consequently, this cognitive exercise is not often carried out within the brain of an individual scientist. Yet this creative tension happens naturally when investigators from two different fields, who have different assumptions, methods and ways of working, meet to discuss a particular problem. This is one reason why new paradigms so often emerge in the cross-fertilization of different disciplines.There are of course other, more systematic ways of searching for hypotheses by bringing together seemingly unrelated evidence. The Arrowsmith two-node search strategy [5], for instance, is based on distinct searches of the biomedical literature to retrieve articles on two different areas of science that have not been studied in relation to each other, but that the investigator suspects might be related in some fashion. The software identifies common words or phrases, which might point to meaningful links between them. This is but one example of ‘literature-based discovery'' as a heuristic technique [6], and in turn, is part of the larger data-driven approach of ‘text mining'' or ‘data mining'', which looks for unusual, new or unexpected patterns within large amounts of observational data. Regardless of whether one follows hypothesis-driven or data-driven models of investigation, let us teach our students to repeat the mantra: ‘odd is good''!? Open in a separate windowNeil R Smalheiser     

National identity and social inclusion

In terms of our national identity, who we are and are judged to be in a particular context depends on how well our claims are regarded by those around us. Being considered not ‘one of us’ means being an outsider whether one wants to be or not. National identity may lead ultimately to social inclusion or exclusion. Using mainly 2005 survey data, this paper explores cultural markers such as ethnicity, birthplace, residence, accent and ancestry regarding claims to be ‘Scottish’. It shows that being born in Scotland enables people to make claims and to have them accepted. Claims to be Scottish by a white and a non-white person on the basis of various markers are received in much the same way. The cultural markers which people use to judge claims represent the raw materials of identity differences with the potential to become the basis of social exclusion under appropriate conditions.     

Tribute to Tinbergen: Putting Niko Tinbergen's ‘Four Questions’ in Historical Context

Niko Tinbergen's (Zeit. Tier. 20, 1963, 410) paper ‘On aims and methods of ethology’ is appropriately remembered as the paper in which Tinbergen characterized ethology as ‘the biological study of behavior’ and went on to explain that to study behavior biologically is to ask four distinct questions about it: (1) How is it caused physiologically? (2) What is its survival value? (3) How has it evolved? and (4) How does it develop in the individual? Here, we consider Tinbergen's paper in its historical context by looking at it from three different perspectives: (1) a comparison of Tinbergen's formulation of ‘ethology's four questions’ with similar, but different formulations of biology's basic problems offered by Julian Huxley, Konrad Lorenz, and Ernst Mayr; (2) a survey of the roles that the four questions played in Tinbergen's own work over the course of his career; and (3) a consideration of the two explicit goals of Tinbergen's (Zeit. Tier., 20, 1963, 410) paper, namely (a.) to honor Tinbergen's friend and colleague Konrad Lorenz (as part of a Festschrift for Lorenz on the occasion of his sixtieth birthday) and (b.) to provide a sketch of ethology's scope and an evaluation of the ways the field needed to develop in the future. We suggest that just as the work of Tinbergen's Oxford research team revealed how the behavior of gulls reflected compromises worked out in the face of the diverse selective pressures of particular environments, we can identify certain conflicts that arose for Tinbergen in trying to write something that his friend Lorenz would like while also assessing ethology's current state and future prospects. That said, however, Tinbergen's enduring concern was to do all he could to ensure that ethology thrive as a field and develop a scientific understanding of animal (and human) behavior. For this to happen, he insisted, the four questions of ethology needed to be pursued in a balanced, comprehensive, and integrated fashion.     

« L’enfer, c’est les autres »: approche phénoménologique de la relation à autrui

Garcin famously retorted in Jean-Paul Sartre’s play No Exit, “Hell is other people”, l’enfer, c’est les autres. But what exactly did he mean? I would suggest that the play’s most quoted line can serve as the key to understanding, from a phenomenological point of view, the relationships between others and me, and in particular why theses relationships can be so trouble-some. Is it not generally because we ask of each other what neither can offer in response? Perhaps we should give up the expectation that others are our salvation and accept our own contingencies.     

The evolution of one-shot cooperation: An experiment

Can people rationally advance their own material interests by cooperating in one-shot prisoner's dilemmas, even when there is no possibility of being punished for defection? We outline a model that describes how such cooperation could evolve if the presence of a cooperative disposition can be discerned by others. We test the model's key assumption with an experiment in which we find that subjects who interacted for thirty minutes before playing one-shot prisoner's dilemmas with two others were substantially more accurate than chance in predicting their partner's decisions.     

Epilogue: Luria's Psychological Symphony

A finely worked bronze dog has been standing on my desk for twenty years now. Aside from the books with their dedicatory signatures, it is the only material thing I have in memory of Aleksandr Romanovich Luria. A week after he died, Lana Pimenovna, his wife, asked if I could drop in to see her. I thought that the reason for her call—to ask me to enlarge, reproduce, and frame some photos she had made of Aleksandr Romanovich in various years during his lifetime—was only a pretext: the publisher's in-house photographer or any other photographer could have done this.     

The Death and Rebirth of Anthropology

This paper is a study of one component of the recent and contemporary circulation of cultural objects, the exhibition of Australian Aboriginal acrylic paintings in a French museum. The author argues that the recent emphases on ‘appropriation ‘ and the primitivizing gaze ‘ are not sufficient to understand what happens when such objects circulate. To ask what does happen in circulation, at the sites of exhibition, is to ask how they are produced, inflected, and invoked in concrete institutional settings, which have distinctive histories, purposes, and structures of their own. The gazes’ (representations) which are discussed in this French example are analyzed within the specific conditions of their production to show how such exhibitions and circulations of culture are produced in relationship to the requirements internal to museums to distinguish themselves from others, to respond to claims placed upon them by their own institutional settings.     

Egress! How technophilia can reinforce biophilia to improve ecological restoration

For effective and sustained ecological restoration, community support is essential. Yet, in modern society, artificial constructs and electronic technology now dominate most peoples' interests (technophilia). This has led to a perceived growing disconnection between humans and nature. We ask how such technology might be harnessed as an agent of connection to the environment, rather than being seen as a driver of detachment. We use the example of a hugely popular mobile augmented reality smartphone game “Ingress” to show how gaming technology can excite people about nature, unlock their inherent biophilia, and highlight the value of ecological restoration in their everyday lives.     

Steering with the head. the visual strategy of a racing driver

We studied the eye movements of a racing driver during high-speed practice to see whether he took in visual information in a different way from a normal driver on a winding road [1, 2]. We found that, when cornering, he spent most of the time looking close to, but not exactly at, the tangent points on the inside edges of the bends. Each bend was treated slightly differently, and there was a highly repeatable pattern to the way the track edge was viewed throughout each bend. We also found a very close relationship between the driver's head direction and the rate of rotation of the car 1 s later. We interpret these observations as indicating that the driver's gaze is not driven directly by tangent point location, as it is in ordinary driving. Instead, we propose that his head direction is driven by the same information that he uses to control steering and speed, namely his knowledge of the track and his racing line round it. If he directs his head at an angle proportional to his estimate of car rotation speed, this will automatically bring his head roughly into line with the tangent points of the bends. From this standardized position, he can use the expected movements of the tangent points in his field of view to verify, and if necessary modify, his racing line during the following second.     

Work life balance?

There is no perfect recipe to balance work and life in academic research. Everyone has to find their own optimal balance to derive fulfilment from life and work. Subject Categories: S&S: Careers & Training

A few years ago, a colleague came into my office, looking a little irate, and said, “I just interviewed a prospective student, and the first question was, ‘how is work‐life balance here?’”. Said colleague then explained how this question was one of his triggers. Actually, this sentiment isn''t unusual among many PIs. And, yet, asking about one''s expected workload is a fair question. While some applicants are actually coached to ask it at interviews, I think that many younger scientists have genuine concerns about whether or not they will have enough time away from the bench in order to have a life outside of work.In a nutshell, I believe there is no one‐size‐fits‐all definition of work–life balance (WLB). I also think WLB takes different forms depending on one''s career stage. As a new graduate student, I didn''t exactly burn the midnight oil; it took me a couple of years to get my bench groove on, but once I did, I worked a lot and hard. I also worked on weekends and holidays, because I wanted answers to the questions I had, whether it was the outcome of a bacterial transformation or the result from a big animal experiment. As a post‐doc, I worked similarly hard although I may have actually spent fewer hours at the bench because I just got more efficient and because I read a lot at home and on the six train. But I also knew that I had to do as much as I could to get a job in NYC where my husband was already a faculty member. The pressure was high, and the stress was intense. If you ask people who knew me at the time, they can confirm I was also about 30 pounds lighter than I am now (for what it''s worth, I was far from emaciated!).As an assistant professor, I still worked a lot at the bench in addition to training students and writing grant applications (it took me three‐plus years and many tears to get my first grant). As science started to progress, work got even busier, but in a good way. By no means did I necessarily work harder than those around me—in fact, I know I could have worked even more. And I’m not going to lie, there can be a lot of guilt associated with not working as much as your neighbor.My example is only one of millions, and there is no general manual on how to handle WLB. Everyone has their own optimal balance they have to figure out. People with children or other dependents are particularly challenged; as someone without kids, I cannot even fathom how tough it must be. Even with some institutions providing child care or for those lucky enough to have family take care of children, juggling home life with “lab life” can create exceptional levels of stress. What I have observed over the years is that trainees and colleagues with children become ridiculously efficient; they are truly remarkable. One of my most accomplished trainees had two children, while she was a post‐doc and she is a force to be reckoned with—although no longer in my laboratory, she still is a tour de force at work, no less with child number three just delivered! I think recruiters should view candidates with families as well—if not better—equipped to multi‐task and get the job done.There are so many paths one can take in life, and there is no single, “correct” choice. If I had to define WLB, I would say it is whatever one needs to do in order to get the work done to one''s satisfaction. For some people, putting in long days and nights might be what is needed. Does someone who puts in more hours necessarily do better than one who doesn''t, or does a childless scientist produce more results than one with kids? Absolutely not. People also have different goals in life: Some are literally “wedded” to their work, while others put much more emphasis on spending time with their families and see their children grow up. Importantly, these goals are not set in stone and can fluctuate throughout one''s life. Someone recently said to me that there can be periods of intense vertical growth where “balance” is not called for, and other times in life where it is important and needed. I believe this sentiment eloquently sums up most of our lives.Now that I''m a graying, privileged professor, I have started to prioritize other areas of life, in particular, my health. I go running regularly (well, maybe jog very slowly), which takes a lot of time but it is important for me to stay healthy. Pre‐pandemic, I made plans to visit more people in person as life is too short not to see family and friends. In many ways, having acquired the skills to work more efficiently after many years in the laboratory and office, along with giving myself more time for my health, has freed up my mind to think of science differently, perhaps more creatively. It seems no matter how much I think I’m tipping the balance toward life, work still creeps in, and that’s perfectly OK. At the end of the day, my work is my life, gladly, so I no longer worry about how much I work, nor do I worry about how much time I spend away from it. If you, too, accomplish your goals and derive fulfillment from your work and your life, neither should you.     

The evolution of Kraepelin's nosological principles

Emil Kraepelin developed a new psychiatric nosology in the eight editions of his textbook. Previous papers have explored his construction of particular diagnoses, including dementia praecox and manic‐depressive insanity. Here we are providing a close reading of his introductory textbook chapter, that presents his general principles of nosology. We identify three phases: 1) editions 1‐4, in which he describes nosological principles in search of data; 2) editions 5‐7, in which he declares the mature version of his nosological principles and develops new disease categories; 3) edition 8, in which he qualifies his nosological claims and allows for greater differentiation of psychiatric disorders. We propose that Kraepelin's nosology is grounded in three principles. First, psychiatry, like other sciences, deals with natural phenomena. Second, mental states cannot be reduced to neural states, but science will progress and will, ultimately, reveal how nature creates abnormal mental states and behavior. Third, there is a hierarchy of validators of psychiatric diagnoses, with the careful study of clinical features (signs, symptoms and course) being more important than neuropathologic and etiological studies. These three principles emerged over the course of the eight editions of Kraepelin's textbook and were informed by his own research and by available scientific methods. His scientific views are still relevant today: they have generated and, at the same time, constrained our current psychiatric nosology.     

Responsibilities in elderly care: Mr Powell's narrative of duty and relations

In Western countries a considerable number of older people move to a residential home when their health declines. Institutionalization often results in increased dependence, inactivity and loss of identity or self-worth (dignity). This raises the moral question as to how older, institutionalized people can remain autonomous as far as continuing to live in line with their own values is concerned. Following Walker's meta-ethical framework on the assignment of responsibilities, we suggest that instead of directing all older people towards more autonomy in terms of independence, professional caregivers should listen to the life narrative of older people and attempt to find out how their personal identity, relations and values in life can be continued in the new setting. If mutual normative expectations between caregivers and older people are not carefully negotiated, it creates tension. This tension is illustrated by the narrative of Mr Powell, a retired successful public servant now living in a residential home. The narrative describes his current life, his need for help, his independent frame of mind, and his encounters with institutional and professional policies. Mr Powell sees himself as a man who has always cared for himself and others, and who still feels that he has to fulfil certain duties in life. Mr Powell's story shows that he is not always understood well by caregivers who respond from a one-sided view of autonomy as independence. This leads to misunderstanding and an underestimation of his need to be noticed and involved in the residential community.     

Haeckel,un darwinien allemand ?

German biologist Ernst Haeckel (1834–1919) is often considered the most renowned Darwinian in his country since, as early as 1862, he declared that he accepted the conclusions Darwin had reached three years before in On the Origin of Species, and afterwards, he continuously proclaimed himself a supporter of the English naturalist and championed the evolutionary theory. Nevertheless, if we examine carefully his books, in particular his General Morphology (1866), we can see that he carries on a tradition very far from Darwin's thoughts. In spite of his acceptance of the idea of natural selection, that he establishes as an argument for materialism, he adopts, indeed, a conception of evolution that is, in some respects, rather close to Lamarck's views. He is, thus, a good example of the ambiguities of the reception of Darwinism in Germany in the second part of the 19th century. To cite this article: S. Schmitt, C. R. Biologies 332 (2009).     

More than a blog

Blogging is circumventing traditional communication channels and levelling the playing field of science communication. It helps scientists, journalists and interested laypeople to make their voices heard.Last December, astrobiologists reported in the journal Science that they had discovered the first known microorganism on Earth capable of growing and reproducing by using arsenic (Wolfe-Simon et al, 2010). While media coverage went wild, the paper was met with a resounding public silence from the scientific community. That is, until a new breed of critic, science bloggers, weighed in. Leading the pack was Rosie Redfield, who runs a microbiology research lab in the Life Sciences Centre at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, Canada. She posted a critique of the research to her blog, RRResearch (rrresearch.fieldofscience.com), which went viral. Redfield said that her site, which is typically a quiet window on activities in her lab got 100,000 hits in a week.Redfield said that her site, which is typically a quiet window on activities in her lab got 100,000 hits in a weekThis incident, like a handful before it and probably more to come, has raised the profile of science blogging and the freedom that the Internet offers to express an opinion and reach a broad audience. Yet it also raises questions about the validity of unfettered opinion and personal bias, and the ability to publish online with little editorial oversight and few checks and balances.Redfield certainly did not hold back in her criticism of the paper. Her post said of the arsenic study: “Lots of flim-flam, but very little reliable information. [...] If this data was presented by a PhD student at their committee meeting, I''d send them back to the bench to do more clean-up and controls.” She also opined on why the article was published: “I don''t know whether the authors are just bad scientists or whether they''re unscrupulously pushing NASA''s ''There''s life in outer space!'' agenda. I hesitate to blame the reviewers, as their objections are likely to have been overruled by Science''s editors in their eagerness to score such a high-impact publication.”Despite the fervor and immediacy of the blogosphere, it took Science and Felisa Wolfe-Simon, the lead author on the paper, nearly six months to respond in print. Eventually, eight letters appeared in Science covering various aspects of the controversy, including one from Redfield, who is now studying the bacteria in her lab. Bruce Alberts, editor-in-chief of Science, downplayed the role that blogging played in drumming up interest in the controversial study. “I am sure that the number of letters sent to us via our website reflected a response to the great publicity the article received, some of it misleading [...] This number was also likely expanded by the blogging activity, but it was not directly connected to the blogs in any way that I can detect,” he explained.Bloggers, of course, have a different take on the matter, arguing that it was another example of a growing number of cases of ''refutation by blog''. The blogging community heralds Redfield as a hero to science and science blogging. By now, more traditional science media outlets have also joined the bloggers in their skepticism over the paper''s claims, with many repeating the points Redfield made in her original blog response.Jerry Coyne, an evolutionary geneticist at the University of Chicago in the USA, writes the blog Why Evolution is True (whyevolutionistrue.wordpress.com), which is a spinoff from his book of the same name. He said that bloggers, both professional scientists and journalists, have been gaining a new legitimacy in recent years as a result of things such as the arsenic bacteria case, as well as from shooting holes in the 2009 claims that the fossil of the extinct primate Darwinius masillae from the Messel Pit in Germany was a ''missing link'' between two primate species (Franzen et al, 2009). “[Blogging has] really affected the pace of how science is done. One of the good things about science blogging, certainly as a professional, is you''re able to pass judgment on papers instantly. You don''t have to write a letter to the editor and have it reviewed. [Redfield] is a good example of the value of science blogging. Claims that are sort of outlandish and strong can be discredited or at least addressed instantaneously instead of waiting weeks and weeks like you''d otherwise have to do,” he said.“... you''re able to pass judgment on papers instantly. You don''t have to write a letter to the editor and have it reviewed”Perhaps because of the increasingly public profile of popular science bloggers, as well as the professional and social value that is becoming attached to their blogs, science blogging is gaining in both popularity and validity. The content in science blogs covers a wide spectrum from genuine science news to simply describing training or running a lab, to opinionated rants about science and its social impact. The authorship is no less diverse than the content with science professionals, science journalists and enthusiastic amateurs all contributing to the melting pot, which also has an impact on the quality.Carl Zimmer is a freelance science journalist, who writes primarily for the New York Times and Discover Magazine, and blogs at The Loom (blogs.discovermagazine.com/loom). “Most scientists have not been trained how to write, so they are working at a disadvantage,” he said. “[Writing for them] would be like me trying to find a dinosaur. I wouldn''t do a very good job because I don''t really know how to do that. There are certainly some scientists who have a real knack for writing and blogs have been a fantastic opportunity for them because they can just start typing away and all of a sudden have thousands of people who want to read what they write every day.”Bora Zivkovic, who is a former online community manager at Public Library of Science, focusing mainly on PLoS ONE, is one of those scientists. A native of Belgrade, he started commenting in the mid-1990s about the Balkan wars on Usenet, an Internet discussion network. He began blogging about science and politics in 2004 and later about his interest in chronobiology, which stems from his degree in the topic from North Carolina State University. He still combines these interests in his latest blog, Blog Around the Clock (blogs.scientificamerican.com/a-blog-around-the-clock). Last year, Scientific American named Zivkovic its blog editor and he set up a blogging network for the publication. “There isn''t really a definition of what is appropriate,” he said. “The number one rule in the blogosphere is you never tell a blogger what to blog about. Those bloggers who started on their own who are scientists treasure their independence more than anything, so networks that give completely free reign and no editorial control are the only ones that can attract interesting bloggers with their own voices.”“The number one rule in the blogosphere is you never tell a blogger what to blog about”Daniel McArthur, an Australian scientist now based in the UK, who blogs about the genetic and evolutionary basis of human variation at Genetic Future (www.wired.com/wiredscience/geneticfuture), and about personal genomics at Genomes Unzipped (www.genomesunzipped.org), said that it is difficult to define a science blog. “I think it''s semantics. There are people like me who spend some time writing about science and some time writing about industry and gossiping about things in the industrial world. Then there are the people who write about the process of doing science. There are many, many blogs where [...] the content is much more about [the blogger''s] personal voyage as a scientist rather than the science that they do. Then there are people who use science blogging as an extra thing that they do and the primary purpose of their blog is to add political advocacy. I think it''s very hard to draw a line between the different categories. My feeling is that science bloggers should write about whatever it is they want to write about .”The ability to distribute your opinion, scientific or otherwise, online and in public is raising difficult questions about standards and the difference between journalism and opinion. Sean Carroll, who writes for the physics group blog Cosmic Variance (blogs.discovermagazine.com/cosmicvariance), is a senior research associate in the Department of Physics at the California Institute of Technology in the USA. “Some blogging is indistinguishable from what you would ordinarily call journalism. Some blogging is very easily distinguishable from what you would ordinarily call journalism,” he said. “I think that whether we like it or not, the effect of the Internet is that readers need to be a little bit more aware of the status of what they are looking at. Is this something reputable? Anyone can have a blog and say anything, so that one fact is both good and bad. It''s bad because there is a tremendous amount of rubbish on the Internet [...] and people who have trouble telling the rubbish from the good stuff will get confused. But it''s also good because it used to be the case that only a very small number of voices were represented in major media.”Zimmer contrasts the independence of blogging with traditional journalism. “You really get to set your own rules. You''re not working with any editor and you''re not trying to satisfy them. You''re just trying to satisfy yourself. In terms of the style of what I do, I will tend to write more—I think of [my blog posts] as short essays, as opposed to an article in the New York Times where I''ll be writing about interviewing someone or describing them on a visit I paid to them. One of the great things about a blog is that it''s a way of making a connection with people who are your readers and people who are following you for a long time.”One of the world''s most popular scientist bloggers is Paul Zachary Myers, known as PZ, a biology professor at the University of Minnesota in the USA. He blogs at Pharyngula (scienceblogs.com/pharyngula), a site named for a particular stage in development shared by all vertebrate embryos. “Passion is an important part of this. If you can communicate a love of the science that you''re talking about, then you''re a natural for blogging,” he explained. “[Pharyngula] is a blog where I have chosen just to express myself, so self-expression is the goal and what I write about are things that annoy me or interest me.”“Passion is an important part of this. If you can communicate a love of the science that you''re talking about, then you''re a natural for blogging”Myers'' blog, which is driven by a mix of opinion, colourful science writing, campaigning against creationism and an unflinching approach to topics about which he is passionate, draws about 3 million visitors a month. He said his blog attracts more traffic than other blogs because it is not purely about science. “I do a lot of very diverse things such as controversial religious stuff and politics, and whatever I feel like. So I tap into a lot of interest groups and that builds up my rank quite a bit. I''d say there are quite a few other science blogs out there that are pure science blogs, but pure science blogs—where they just talk about science and nothing but science—cannot get quite as much traffic as a more broadly based blog.”In an example of his sometimes-incendiary posting, Myers recently took on the Journal of Cosmology regarding an article on the discovery of bacteria fossils in a meteorite. He said that the counterattack got personal, but that he usually enjoys “the push back” from readers. “That''s part of the argument. I would say that everyone has an equal right to make their case on the web. That''s sometimes daunting for some people, but I think it''s part of the give and take of free speech. It''s good. It''s actually kind of fun to get into these arguments.”Beyond the circus that can surround blogs such as Pharyngula, scientist bloggers are debating whether their blogging counts as a professional activity. Redfield said that blogging can be taken into account among the outreach some governments now require from researchers who receive public funds. She said that some researchers now list their blogging activity in their efforts to communicate science to the public.Coyne, however, does not share his interest in blogging with other senior faculty at the University of Chicago, because he does not believe they value it as a professional activity. Still, he said that he recognizes the names of famous scientists among his blog readers and argues that scientists should consider blogging to hone their writing skills. “Blogging gives you outreach potential that you really should have if you''re grant funded, and it''s fun. It opens doors for you that wouldn''t have opened if you just were in your laboratory. So I would recommend it. It takes a certain amount of guts to put yourself out there like that, but I find it immensely rewarding,” he said. In fact, Coyne has had lecture and print publishing opportunities arise from his blogs.“It opens doors for you that wouldn''t have opened if you just were in your laboratory [...] It takes a certain amount of guts to put yourself out there like that...”Redfield said she finds blogging—even if no one reads her posts—a valuable way to focus her thoughts. “Writing online is valuable at all levels for people who choose to do it. Certainly, by far the best science writing happening is in the community of writers who are considered bloggers,” she said.In terms of pay, science blogging usually remains in the ''hobby zone'', with pay varying widely from nothing at all to small amounts from advertising and web traffic. ''GrrlScientist'', an American-trained molecular evolutionary biologist based in Germany, who prefers to go by her nom de blog, has been blogging for seven years. She writes the popular Punctuated Equilibrium blog (www.guardian.co.uk/science/punctuated-equilibrium) for The Guardian newspaper in the UK, as well as Maniraptora (blogs.nature.com/grrlscientist) for the Nature Network, and is co-author of This Scientific Life (scientopia.org/blogs/thisscientificlife) for the science writing community Scientopia. She said she earns a small amount from ad impressions downloaded when her blog is viewed at The Guardian. On the other end of the scale is Myers, who declined to disclose his income from blogging. “It''s a respectable amount. It''s a nice supplement to my income, but I''m not quitting my day job,” he said.Yet bloggers tend not to do it for the money. “I know that when I go to give talks, the fact that I have the blog is one of the first things that people mention, and lots of students in particular say that they really enjoy the blog and that they''re encouraged by it,” Carroll explained. “Part of what we do is not only talk about science, but we act as examples of what it means to be scientist. We are human beings. We care about the world. We have outside interests. We like our jobs. We try to be positive role models for people who are deciding whether or not this is something that they might want to get into themselves one day.”The rise of the science blogosphere has not all been plain sailing. Although the Internet has been hailed as a brave new world of writing where bloggers can express themselves without interference from editors or commercial interests, it has still seen its share of controversy. The blogging portal ScienceBlogs was the launchpad for some of the best and most popular writers of the new generation of science bloggers, including Myers and Zivkovic. But an incident at ScienceBlogs shook up the paradise and raised journalistic ethical quandaries.In July 2010, a new site, Food Frontiers (foodfrontiers.pepsicoblogs.com), appeared on ScienceBlog, sponsored by PepsiCo, the makers of the popular drink. The blog featured posts written by the beverage maker''s representatives and was blended in with the other blog content on the portal. “Pepsi''s blog looked like my blog or PZ''s blog,” Zivkovic explained, “with no warning that this was paid for and written by Pepsi''s R&D or PR people [...] talking about nutrition from a Pepsi perspective, which is a breach in the wall between advertorial and editorial. The moment the Pepsi blog went live, about 10 bloggers immediately left.” He said that the journalist-bloggers in particular pointed to a break of trust that would sully the reputation of ScienceBlogs writers and confuse readers.In his final blog at the site, titled ''A Farewell to Scienceblogs: the Changing Science Blogging Ecosystem'', Zivkovic nailed the danger of the ''Pepsigate'' incident to the validity of the blogosphere. He wrote: “What is relevant is that this event severely undermined the reputation of all of us. Who can trust anything we say in the future? Even if you already know me and trust me, can people arriving here by random searches trust me? Once they look around the site and see that Pepsi has a blog here, why would they believe I am not exactly the same, some kind of shill for some kind of industry?” (scienceblogs.com/clock/2010/07/scienceblogs_and_me_and_the_ch.php). Myers, who at the time was responsible for more than 40% of the traffic at ScienceBlogs, went ''on strike'' to protest. In the aftermath, the Pepsi blog was pulled.Redfield raises another interesting word of caution. “Most scientists are extensively worried about being scooped, so they''re scared to say anything about what''s actually going on in their lab for fear that one of their competitors will steal their ideas,” she said. In this context, social networking sites such as ResearchGate (www.researchgate.net; Sidebar A) might be a more appropriate avenue for securely sharing ideas and exchanging tips and information because it enables users to control who has access to their missives.“... they''re scared to say anything about what''s actually going on in their lab for fear that one of their competitors will steal their ideas”

Sidebar A | ResearchGate—social media goes pro

Whenever she is looking for ideas for a research project, biologist Anne-Laure Prunier, who works in the Department of Cellular Biology and Infection at the Institut Pasteur in Paris, has recently turned to ResearchGate (www.researchgate.net), the scientists'' version of the social networking site Facebook. “Every time I have used ResearchGate, I found it really useful,” she commented.ResearchGate, based in Berlin, Germany and Cambridge, USA, is a free service that launched in January 2009. It was co-founded by Ijad Madisch, who earned his MD and PhD from the University of Hannover''s medical school in Germany and is a former research fellow at Harvard Medical School. He explained that his goal in starting the network was to make research more efficient. “During my research in Boston, I noticed that science is very inefficient, especially if you''re doing an experiment and trying to get feedback from people working on the same problem. You don''t have any platforms, online networks where you can go and ask questions or if you''re trying to find someone with a specific skill set. So I decided to do that on my own.”As a result, the site offers researchers functionality similar to Facebook—the modern template for social networking. Through ResearchGate, members can follow colleagues, be followed by those interested in their research, share their conference attendance and recent papers—their own or those that interest them—and most importantly, perhaps, ask and answer questions about science and scientific techniques.“You can get in touch with a lot of different people with a lot of different backgrounds,” Prunier explained. “When I have a very precise technical question for which I don''t find an answer in my institute, I turn to ResearchGate and I ask this question to the community. I have done it three times and every time I have gotten a lot of answers and comments, and I was able to exchange information with a lot of different people which I found really useful.”By May 2011, ResearchGate had reached one million members across 192 countries. The largest numbers of registrations come from the USA, the UK, Germany and India. Biologists, who are second only to medical doctors on the site, make up more than 20% of members. In addition to blogging, ResearchGate is just one example of how the Internet—originally invented to allow physicists to share data with one another—is changing the way that scientists communicate and share information with each other and the public.Carroll, on the other hand, who has been blogging since 2004, said that physicists are very comfortable about publicly sharing research papers with colleagues online. “The whole discussion gets very heated and very deep in some places about open access publishing. Physicists look on uncomprehendingly in fact because they put everything for free on line. That''s what we''ve been doing for years. It works.” But he said they are more cautious about blogging for a general audience. By contrast, he believes biology is especially well-suited to being blogged. “[Biologists are] actually more comfortable with talking to a wider audience because biology, whether it is through medicine or through debates about creationism or life on other planets or whatever, gets involved with public debate quite often.”Zivkovic agrees: “PZ [Myers] and me and a number of others are interested in reaching a broad lay audience, showing how science is fun and cool and interesting and important in various ways. Connecting science to other areas of life, from art to politics and showing the lay audience how relevant science is to everyday life”. Even so, he pointed out that although blogging is popularizing science with the public, there is a less-mainstream sphere serving professional scientists as a forum for surviving the cut and thrust of modern science. “There is a strong subset of the science blogosphere that discusses a life in science, career choices, how to succeed in academia [...] A lot of these are written by people who [...] believe that if their real names were out there it could jeopardize their jobs. They''re not interested in talking to lay audiences. They are discussing survival techniques in today''s science with each other and providing a forum for other young people coming into science.”Ultimately, whether you read popular science blogs, trawl deeper for survival tips, or write your own, the science blogosphere is expanding rapidly and is likely to do so for years to come.     

The Relationship between Trait Emotional Intelligence and Interaction with Ostracized Others' Retaliation

Background

Regulation of emotions in others is distinct from other activities related to trait emotional intelligence in that only such behavior can directly change other people''s psychological states. Although emotional intelligence has generally been associated with prosociality, emotionally intelligent people may manipulate others'' behaviors to suit their own interests using high-level capabilities to read and manage the emotions of others. This study investigated how trait emotional intelligence was related to interacting with ostracized others who attempt retaliation.

Method

We experimentally manipulated whether two people were simultaneously ostracized or not by using an online ball-tossing game called Cyberball. Eighty university students participated in Cyberball for manipulating ostracism and a “recommendation game,” a variation of the ultimatum game for assessing how to interact with others who attempt retaliation, with four participants. After the recommendation game, participants rated their intention to retaliate during the game.

Results

People with higher interpersonal emotional intelligence were more likely to recommend that the ostracized other should inhibit retaliation and maximize additional rewards when they have a weaker intention to retaliate. However, they were more likely to recommend that the ostracized other should retaliate against the ostracizers when they have a stronger intention to retaliate.

Conclusion

This is the first laboratory study that empirically reveals that people with high interpersonal emotional intelligence influence others'' emotions based on their own goals contrary to the general view. Trait emotional intelligence itself is neither positive nor negative, but it can facilitate interpersonal behaviors for achieving goals. Our study offers valuable contributions for the refinement of the trait emotional intelligence concept in the respect of its social function.     

African elephants (Loxodonta africana) recognize visual attention from face and body orientation

How do animals determine when others are able and disposed to receive their communicative signals? In particular, it is futile to make a silent gesture when the intended audience cannot see it. Some non-human primates use the head and body orientation of their audience to infer visual attentiveness when signalling, but whether species relying less on visual information use such cues when producing visual signals is unknown. Here, we test whether African elephants (Loxodonta africana) are sensitive to the visual perspective of a human experimenter. We examined whether the frequency of gestures of head and trunk, produced to request food, was influenced by indications of an experimenter''s visual attention. Elephants signalled significantly more towards the experimenter when her face was oriented towards them, except when her body faced away from them. These results suggest that elephants understand the importance of visual attention for effective communication.