Public truths
Dan Bleicher suggests that by always adhering to the truth, scientists will win public support (3 July, p 29). Absolute confidence as to where the truth lies would be wonderful, but most scientists understand that results always come with uncertainty. Thus the public-relations techniques that Bleicher disapproves of are sometimes necessary in communicating results to the general public, as the concept of confidence levels is often lacking from the public’s paradigm.
PR professionals may be as capable of truth as scientists, but they understand better that the way the message is delivered has an impact on how it is interpreted.
Parental evidence
Jim Giles focuses on the lack of scientific evidence for therapies used by parents trying to help autistic children (26 June, p 42). On the one hand, the absence of empirical data to support different therapies is good reason to be sceptical. On the other, the evidence from parental observation may have some value.
Given the wide variety in the symptoms of autism, it is to be expected that some approaches will work for certain groups of autistic people but not for others.
An evidence base for a particular therapy could be better established by carrying out research in those groups where anecdotal evidence suggests there may be a beneficial effect.
One of my sons has both Down’s syndrome and a diagnosis of autism. As a child he exhibited cognitive and behavioural problems and physical symptoms. Like many other parents of autistic children, we conducted a one-off experiment by withdrawing all gluten and dairy products from his diet. Within three days we were able to detect measurable improvements in many of his symptoms. On each occasion that he has briefly regressed, we have been able to identify unintended ingestion of either gluten or dairy products. One case in one environment proves nothing, but a statistically significant study of similar individuals would be more conclusive, and might uncover a physiological explanation.
If scientists are to gain the confidence of parents, it would help to build their evidence into empirical studies, rather than to scoff at and ignore it.
Subjective research
If Christine Kenneally repeats her assertion (29 May, p 33), that the language Lao has no adjectives, she may hear a few choice adjectives coming her way from a proud Lao national. In fact, Lao has its full complement of adjectives.
A degree of scepticism is in order regarding the statements of linguists and those who write about languages and cultures not their own. Unless they are fluent in the language and thoroughly immersed in the culture, their conclusions risk being little more than the impressions of tourists.
Locals everywhere seem to have a healthy disrespect for earnest researchers. I recall sitting at the village fireplace of a remote hill tribe in Northern Thailand and being regaled with hilarious stories of the tall tales told to those who came to study them.
Shaking the Earth
The largest volcano in the solar system, Alba Mons on Mars, is diametrically on the opposite side of the planet from the very large crater Hellas Planitia. There are similarly good correlations for most of Mars’s other volcanoes. These observations may have a bearing on the coincidence of volcanic events with suspected meteor craters that were the subject of Matt Kaplan’s recent article (5 June, p 38).
Over the past few years, two large impact structures, one in Western Australia, the other in Antarctica, have been identified and roughly dated to the late Permian, a time when the land masses were connected, forming the southern part of the Pangaea supercontinent. This places these two craters very close together and antipodal to the Siberian traps that Kaplan mentions.
One possible explanation is that the impact generates waves that travel through the Earth’s crust and converge on the far side of the planet, where they cause both cracking in the crust and initial volcanic activity. Slower waves move through the Earth’s interior, where the changes in pressure they elicit will cause melting in those parts of the mantle where the rock is close to its melting point. These slower waves begin to converge at the core-mantle boundary and travel towards a point antipodal to the impact. This creates a conduit for the resulting plume of molten rock to follow.
Numerical modelling to test these ideas would be extremely interesting to see.
The autistic forest
In his article on the advantages of autism, David Wolman stated that some people with autism “can’t see the wood for the trees” (1 May, p 32). Autistic people realise that a forest is made of many trees. However, the urge to present a complete and honest picture leads to a description that seeks to encompass all those trees.
A useful analogy is to imagine asking a person with autism the question: “What kind of people were at the wedding?” and receiving the reply: “About 150 humans, about 10 per cent children”. While technically correct, it neglects the important interpersonal relationships. For some people with autism, the relations between objects are as important as interpersonal information is to non-autistic people 鈥� and as fundamental to a meaningful overall picture.
Youthful enthusiasm
I am a 15-year-old self-confessed nerd, and an avid reader of New 杏吧原创. I am writing because there never seems to be enough high-school-level science content out there. There seems to be a massive black hole between National Geographic Kids, seemingly aimed at young children, and material for adult amateurs. Teenagers are skipped over entirely.
Just because most kids my age are obsessed with Twilight‘s Robert Pattinson and Cosmopolitan, doesn’t mean we all are! In January next year I am going to in Sydney, a rare treat that I was lucky to hear about. But can someone, somewhere help me out: are there any forums I can visit, or high-school-age workshops? I’m even having trouble finding a shop in Sydney that sells amateur-level science equipment. I’m desperate to get actual science experience, instead of sitting around and reading about it.
What's in a name?
Amir Yassin wants the Drosophila melanogaster fruit fly to be renamed in order to “reflect biological reality” (19 June, p 24).
Somewhere there may exist an evolutionary path that conveniently follows the ideal of bifurcating speciation, but unfortunately this seems not to be the case here on Earth. Indeed, it has long been ignored by our unicellular companions, among whom horizontal gene transfer makes nonsense of our taxonomies.
Biological reality is interpretive. On the basis of genomic sequence data we could argue that humans and our distant cousins, the fruit flies, are each more closely related to viruses than to each other. Names are there for their utility, and evolutionary significance extends beyond DNA sequences.
Drosophila is not the only group to have confusing ancestry. If we stuck to definitions through ancestry alone, reptiles and birds would always be grouped together. Instead we have chosen to use names that give full recognition to the evolutionary breakthroughs of particular subgroups, such as birds’ feathers.
As Kim van der Linde explains in her accompanying piece, there is an emotional attachment to a name. When my generation dies out, we can lay to rest archaic names such as the Graminae and Compositae.
From Shaun Dowman
The proposed renaming of Drosophila melanogaster demonstrates the need for an integrative DNA taxonomy. The standard binomial classification system should be supplemented with a unique genetic reference, derived from a sequenced portion of a species’ genome. If a species’ nomenclature changes, due to some new taxonomic insight, the genetic identifier will remain.
D. melanogaster will continue to be called Drosophila, at least informally. So familiar is this fly that I doubt it will be confused with any other species. In less illustrious cases, nomenclature shuffling will create confusion when referencing old literature. The addition of a genetic reference would ensure clarity in these cases.
Colchester, Essex, UK
Linguodiversity
Robert Morley pleads for a single global language, and refuses to mourn the deaths of hundreds of languages (26 June, p 30). The extinction of a language is not only about the loss of its everyday use; it is the end of the history and culture of the people who spoke it. Would Morley, who writes in English, consign Shakespeare and Milton to be forgotten? If this is a scientific approach to linguistics then count me out.
From Clive Semmens
Morley asserts that: “if we all spoke the same language, it would be a very positive outcome for humankind”.
I disagree, and not from nostalgia. It is good that we are nearly at a stage where there is one global second language, but lose a language, and you lose a way of thinking and a culture.
The perspectives offered by alternative ways of thinking may mean that a problem considered insoluble becomes easy to solve, or is shown to be of such little importance that no solution is needed. Similarly, it can be hard to see the flaws in one’s own culture, but to someone brought up differently they can be clear. Trying to “fix” flaws in someone else’s culture can be a recipe for disaster, but if someone somewhere can see them there is some hope of people within the culture becoming aware too.
Ely, Cambridgeshire, UK
For the record
鈥� In our article (10 July, p 4) on the use of the drug “dex” to prevent non-standard genitalia in girls with congenital adrenal hyperplasia, 1 in 8 at-risk pregnancies will develop as a female with CAH.
鈥� Chicks have been found to preferentially count from left to right, but this does not “always” happen, as we reported (26 June, p 18).
鈥� NanoGuardian technology, which can be used to authenticate medication, has been approved by the US Food and Drug Administration for use in just one drug, not generally as we implied (10 July, p 18).