My QED 2012 experience — part 2

(Click here for part 1.)

I bought lunch in the hotel bar (I wasn't going to repeat last year's mistake, when a bunch of us decided to eat out — unfortunately on that occasion service was so slow we had to bring our food back with us, twenty minutes late for Jim Al-Khalili's talk on time travel). So this time it was coffee and a sandwich — basic, cheap and quick — and I'd had a good breakfast, plus I was booked in for the Gala Dinner in the evening.

I was looking forward to Ophelia Benson's talk, titled "Silencing for God", as I read her blog Butterflies and Wheels (at least I try to; she's so prolific it's hard to keep up — a point I made to her in a brief conversation the previous evening during the Mixer). Her first example of free speech suppression was from University College London, where there had been some fuss over the use of a Jesus and Mo cartoon appearing on the Facebook page for the university's Atheist Secularist & Humanist Society. The Students' Union claimed this was offensive and demanded it be taken down. The controversy spread to the London School of Economics with similar results, and even further: award-winning young skeptic Rhys Morgan used the cartoon (actually it was the cover of a Jesus and Mo book) as his profile picture as a mark of solidarity with the ASHS, and his school demanded he take it down — on pain of expulsion. These are classic claims of the right not to be offended — which as it happens is not actually a right. Interesting to note that Rhys Morgan and "Author" (pen-name of the author of Jesus and Mo) were both at QED.

Ophelia had plenty of other examples from all around the world, many using intimidation to stifle free speech. The problem is that religions (of many different stripes) believe they have the right to censor the words of people who don't subscribe to the particular religion that's objecting. It's only by standing firm, en masse, that this kind of thing will be defeated — which is difficult when you're faced with what appear to be genuine threats.

Sarah Angliss delivered a talk-cum-demonstration entitled "Voices of the Dead", which included some highly surreal music and a live demonstration (recording as well as playback) of an Edison Phonograph. Weird instruments were in evidence, including what must be the ultimate weird instrument, a theremin, played by waving one's hands at and around it. The instrument on stage appeared to be commercially produced (it had the "Moog" logo on it). Sarah was another speaker I was keen to hear on account of her reference to a temporary exhibition (which I saw at the Science Museum) of the work of Daphne Oram, including the original "Oramics Machine" used for creating electronic music.


Previously I'd only come across Massimo Polidoro in Skeptical Inquirer, for which magazine he writes a regular column. He's been involved in the JREF Million Dollar Challenge, overseeing many attempts to prove paranormal phenomena, both as part of the MDC and elsewhere, none of which has so far succeeded. His talk, "The Search for Superman", documented some of the more unusual and hilarious of these attempts.


The afternoon concluded with Richard Saunders, well-known to listeners of the podcast The Skeptic Zone, otherwise well-known to viewers of Australian TV. His talk, "The Delights & Dangers of being a TV Skeptic", gave us the inside story on some of the programmes and series on which he's appeared. He also demonstrated the infamous "Power Balance" bracelet, using a not entirely unknown volunteer:

The Power Balance story is one of success for the balanced powers of organised skepticism. After several publicised tests and prolonged media exposure the product — shown to be fake — was withdrawn, and the company sold. Unfortunately other bogus woo has promptly jumped in to fill the gap in a credulous market. Eternal vigilance required!

The Gala Dinner on Saturday evening was a success. I didn't hesitate to book for this optional extra, as last year's was definitely worth it, but how successful it is for any individual depends on whose table you're assigned to, and what mix of dining companions you find yourself amongst. After the dinner, Robin Ince introduced the Skeptic Awards, which were followed by a musical performance from Sarah Angliss, including yet another weird instrument — a sonorous saw coaxed into audibility using a violin bow. Then we had laid-back stand-up from Alun Cochrane (superb), and stand-up plus conjuring from Paul Zenon, whose performance with a full beer glass swinging from a string, while walking among the audience, was as surprising as it was scary (I still wonder if he's ever had a serious accident — and concomitant injury claims — as a result of this reckless stunt). It was, needless to say, the cause of much nervous hilarity.

The night apparently continued with dancing late into the early morning, but I needed some sleep.

Skeptics in the Planetarium

(Now that I've booked my own tickets for this event, I'm happy to spread the news...)

It's going to be amazing — just look at that line-up! Crispian Jago has all the lovely details, so go to his site for further links and info about the performers.

 There's also a Facebook event page to confirm your attendance (if you want to) and see who else is going. Oh the anticipation...

Uncaged Monkeys at the Anvil, Basingstoke

"So what's this Uncaged Monkeys thing you're going to see then? Is it a band?"

"No, it's not a band."

"A play?"

"No, it's ... science. And comedy."

"Oh. That sounds —"

"By the people in Radio Four's The Infinite Monkey Cage. You heard of that?"

"Er, no."

"Well, they just got a Sony Award."

It may have been different, geeky, at times hilarious and at other times intensely moving. It may not be the usual fare at the Basingstoke Anvil, but it filled pretty well all of the hall's 1400 seats.

Robin Ince started the show off, casting some aspersions on Professor Brian Cox — whom he claimed never listened to the introductions so he could say what he liked. Then it was time for TV's Professor Wonder Boy to wow us with potted particle physics. He hit us with the Higgs boson, and claimed that particle accelerators were always built near airports in order to give them a sense of perspective. In a generally reassuring manner he touched on the likelihood of the Large Hadron Collider destroying the Earth, using a technical term that I forget — though I remember it was four letters beginning and ending in "t". (There was also a "w" and an asterisk in it somewhere). He showed us a graphic of government funding, challenging us to locate the spend on scientific research. He pointed out the bill for the bank bail-out, and that it was greater than the amount spent on science ... since Jesus. And he did the Big Bang.

Ben Goldacre chased his wild hair and oscillating eyebrows around the stage, with tales of placebos, big pharma and fish oil pills, and he showed us a picture of his cat Henrietta, plus a certificate of her medical qualifications — the same qualifications claimed by nutritionist Gillian McKeith. Great mirth ensued, but the stuff about big pharma was actually quite worrying.

Steve Jones talked about evolution, illustrating natural selection with something from his own early career as an engineer. His example was a process of converting a liquid to a powder by forcing it at high pressure through metal nozzles. Apparently these nozzles used to corrode and become ineffective very quickly. Rather than try to work out the best shape for these nozzles, the designers used a form of random mutation, making ten copies, each slightly — but randomly — different from the original. These copies then were tested, and best one was then randomly mutated ten times and then those copies were tested. After several cycles of such random mutation and selection, they ended up with a nozzle that lasted 100 times longer than the original, but no-one knew why.

Simon Singh electrocuted a gherkin on stage, which was highly illuminating (literally, though what it would taste like after that, he didn't say). Of such insights is the scientific knowledge regarding the size and the age of the universe derived. And he too did the Big Bang. He ended with the story of his somewhat pedantic insistence on the accuracy of song lyrics, which is appropriate because we were also entertained by Helen Arney, who sang to us while playing the ukele.

There was a session during which Robin Ince passed on tweeted questions to Ben Goldacre, Brian Cox and Simon Singh. (There is also a podcast — Free Primates — in which the Uncaged Monkeys answer questions they didn't have time to deal with on stage.)

Naturally the show could not pass without several mentions of Carl Sagan, of whom both Robin Ince and Brian Cox are declared fans. Sagan's Pale Blue Dot brought the proceedings to a moving close.

Altogether it was a splendidly enjoyable evening, and I saw the whole thing close up as I was on the front row. What I should have realised is that the Anvil is the nearest venue for many of those people who attend Winchester Skeptics in the Pub, as well as the fledgling Portsmouth Skeptics in the Pub. Several were indeed attending, and I was pleased to be able to join some of them for a curry after the show.

James Randi at TAM London 2010

TAM London's first day's talks concluded with the man himself, James the Amaz!ng Randi, who was interviewed on stage by Robin Ince. He talked about his skeptical origins and some of his encounters with so-called psychics, mediums and faith healers. It was clear that Randi's preoccupation with such people is not merely idle interest but an abiding passion. They may be deluded about their "powers" or they may be out-and-out charlatans; Randi has encountered both extremes and everything in between, and in all cases he is dedicated to exposing them for what they are, not least because they mislead innocent people who pay good money for something that isn't real.

It was inspiring to hear Randi speak live about his life in skepticism, but if I have one niggle it would be that he and Robin Ince should have swapped places — Randi was positioned on stage such that he gazed mostly off to the side, away from the camera producing the view that filled the big screen.



After his discussion with Robin Ince, Randi presented two awards. The TAM London 2010 award went to Ben Goldacre, who accepted it by pre-recorded video. Ben was unable to accept the award in person, but the video was an unexpected bonus — it initially freeze-framed, giving us a static second or two of typical zany Ben Goldacre expression. (And check out what must be the geekiest bookcase ever....)



The second award was for Grassroots Skepticism, and went to Rhys Morgan for his single-handed stance against quack-remedy "Miracle Mineral Solution", which despite being basically bleach, has been promoted as effective against ... pretty much anything except amputation. Rhys has Crohn's disease, one of the huge list of afflictions that MMS is claimed to cure, and it was this that led him to investigate it, and subsequently to campaign against it. Such activism is to be commended in anyone, and so the award is richly deserved — more so in this case as at the time Rhys was only 15 years old.