Measured by what is arguably the most useful gauge of intelligence - common sense - women seem to have it all over men. (I say most useful because it's the most relevant to survival skills, which after all is the ultimate underlying goal of every life form.) Men have the common sense of a bag of concrete.
Why is this so? Well, brains are a little like computers. Some are IBM PC's, and some are neural networks. If you ask the IBM PC why it got the answer it did, it will say "that's what I get when I run the algorithm you typed into me". Ask the neural net and it says "What?" After it gets over being surprised you asked, and if it decides to attempt a serious answer, it will say "I honestly have no idea why I felt that way at the time."
Neural nets work by summing the inputs from each of their nodes. If the total is more than a given amount, the net says "go for it". If not, it decides to hang back and wait for another day. Each node weights its input by a different amount, so some nodes count more than others. (It's not a democracy, but it gets the job done.) So the real answer to the question posed above is "the weighted average of the sum of the inputs from all my nodes did (or did not) exceed the threshold".
The IBM PC "thinks" by a very rational, analytical, traceable process. Its motives are transparent and consistent over time. In contrast, the neural network could be described as emotional, moody, and unpredictable. However, the neural network is really nothing more than the aggregate activity of lots of very rational IBM PC's -- its individual nodes. But their cooperation results in something Danny Hillis calls "emergent behavior": the presence of a higher intelligence arising out of the interactions of large numbers of simple systems.
While the analogy is not close, men tend to think more like IBM PC's. To their credit, they have honed their analytical abilities to razor sharpness. Some of our species' most impressive achievements have resulted from men pushing their intellectual limits: Newton, Galileo, Edison, and Einstein, to name a few.
But it's still like the days of the Thompson Trophy Races. Back in the 1930's, annual air races were held at the major air shows. These consisted of closed courses around a series of pylons. The pilots were usually unsponsored, flying salvaged military planes that they souped up themselves. Even so, they managed to set new speed records almost every year. An amazing amount was added to the aeronautics and internal combustion knowledge bases. But then in 1943 (???) the jet engine was invented, leaving the Thompson Trophy racers forever in its wake.
Just as the jet engine represented a new paradigm in propulsion, the neural network is a new way to compute. It's fundamentally much more powerful than the single-node IBM PC. It can make decisions in a fraction of the time, based on incomplete information. And it can be "trained" (that is, learn from experience), alleviating the need for extensive and detailed programming.
I'm giving women the highest compliment I can think of when I say they think like neural nets. (Actually, that's not strictly true, but I don't want to be accused of being sexist.) This may have its drawbacks: untraceability, inconsistency, irrationality. But the advantages far outweigh the disadvantages.
To be fair, men are also capable of emotional decisions - some much more so than others. And women can be logical - occasionally impeccably so. But it seems to me that men tend excel more at the former, while women are better at the latter.
For want of better terms, let me label these two modes of thought as analysis and synthesis. Analysis is well-suited to reductionistic fields such as science, law and medicine. In contrast, synthesis is better suited to the relatively more complex problems we all face in everyday life. These are the problems that require common sense, and that enable us to survive. If we solve them well, we not only survive, but we achieve a high level of personal satisfaction and fulfillment. In general, men seem to be better equipped for analysis, and women for synthesis. This, to me, makes women smarter than men.
On the issue of whether or not to be a vegetarian, I believe it is best not to switch from one camp to the other. Either be born vegetarian, or forget about it. If you try to switch horses in mid-life, you will be forever attending social functions at places like Bertucci's, where the aroma of fresh-baked Amadiera pizza will make you want to bribe Dean Ornish. Also, whether you like it or not, you will lose weight and be unable to gain it back. People will be endlessly telling you how fashionably skinny you are, and how much worse is their problem of overweight. "Believe me - you'll live to be one hundred. I wish I could give you some of mine!"
As I get older and more conservative, the issue becomes more important to me as well. I think about my parents, who I know would be pleased to become grandparents (although to their credit, they don't make an issue of it). I think about whether I want to leave a legacy, and what it would be like to have a son.
At the ice rink last night, I was talking with a fellow named Jay. He was there with his daughter __________, who seemed to have quite a flair for the dramatic even at her young age. She was very expressive with her arms, while at the same time attempting various spins and small jumps. Like the other kids, falling didn't seem to phase her at all -- just a momentary setback. As I watched Jay, I could tell he was very proud of her.
However, I realized recently another advantage to being childless. If you read books about the environment -- especially the ones that tell you how *you* can make a difference -- you begin to approach daily routines differently. Should I throw my apple core in the trash or take it out back to the compost heap? Should I wash my clothes in hot, warm, or cold? Could I avoid buying yet another glass bottle by making my own tomato sauce? Do I really need to spend 15 minutes in the shower on a cold morning when the hot water feels so good?
If you think about this stuff too much, it can give you a bad case of enviro-guilt. Worse, as you try to factor your impact on the earth into every decision, your efficiency slows to a crawl. But what I realized was that I really don't care that much! I decided that I'm just me, and how much impact can one person have? No kids means no grandkids, which means no great-grandkids, and the geometrically expanding spiral that implies. My self-indulgent five extra minutes in the shower will never be multiplied by future generations of progeny.
Not that I intend to rush out and buy a car tomorrow, or start sending my clothes to the dry-cleaners, or buy stock in nuclear power plants. But when it's 10 degrees outside on an icy winter morning, I don't spend much time deciding what to do with my apple core. The compost heap can wait until spring. Into the trash it goes!
Van Gogh had always worked rapidly and with great enthusiasm, but today he was ruthless. He ripped into his paints like a man on fire, recklessly splashing them everywhere in his rush to get them onto the canvas. Much of the paint ended up landing on the canvas at his feet, which he distributed across it by his constant pacing as he worked.
When he was finished, he stood back to admire his latest masterpiece. Only then did he realize what a mess he had made on the floor. Feeling somewhat foolish, he took the old canvas and set it against the wall in a corner to dry. (unfinished)
Actually, I only tell that story because it reminds me of my obsession with another piece of safety gear -- namely seat belts. I have always insisted on wearing them. In fact, I won't get into a car that doesn't have them. I even make the driver wait until I fasten mine before he drives off. Sometimes it takes me awhile, because the belt has gotten lost inside the seat. Or it's stuck and won't unwind, or the buckle doesn't catch, or some darn thing. (This seems to happen quite often; it makes me wonder when that seat belt was last used.) As I futz with his vehicle, the driver is building a slow burn. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. Can we go now?"
The one time in my life that I didn't wear a seat belt was on the way home from a New Year's Eve party. I was in college at the time, visiting home during Christmas break. It wasn't even midnight yet, but I was extremely tired. I had been partying it up the last few days, and the lack of sleep had caught up with me. My friend Stan (not his real name) had decided to leave early, and I asked him if he could drop me off.
It wasn't until a few months later that I found out why Stan was leaving. He had been popping pills - Black Beauties. Their trade name is Darvon, and they're a powerful tranquilizer. But they weren't giving Stan his usual "buzz". So he decided to take some more. Still no effect. A few more pills -- nothing again. But by this time, Stan wasn't feeling especially well. He figured he'd go home and sleep it off.
I never made it home that night. We had gotten about a mile down Worchester Avenue. At that point the road curves sharply to the left; we didn't. A telephone pole came up out of the ground and attacked us at 50 miles per hour. Stan hit the steering wheel, which buffered most of the impact. He escaped with a few cuts and bruises; they let him out of the hospital that same night.
I wasn't so lucky. Being in the passenger seat (the so-called "suicide seat"), I went through the front windshield. An eight-track tape player, mounted under the dash, tore loose from its bracket and slammed into my legs. (They found it later in the back seat.) I ended up with most of the right side of my face torn off, requiring over a hundred stitches to re-attach it. My jaw was broken in three places, and both legs had been broken by the tape deck. I was in long leg casts for four months, and short ones for two more. My jaw was wired shut so it could heal, forcing me to subsist on liquid food. I missed a semester of school (not to mention six months of anything like a normal life).
Anyway, back to the point. That was the one time in my life that I didn't wear a seat belt. I guess I was too tired to bother with it, and I figured one time wouldn't matter. But that was the one time that did. It's funny how odds work.
Hydrocarbons are another chemical group altogether. Their name is similar to the carbohydrates, and the two are sometimes confused. Technically, the difference is that hydrocarbons contain no oxygen. Oxygen is what allows carbohydrates to form into organic molecules, and cells, and living beings. Without oxygen there is no life.
Hydrocarbons serve a role which is similar to carbohydrates: as fuel and energy. However, they are used by machinery rather than living beings. They heat our homes, propel our cars, and cook our dinner. They are derived from deposits in the earth, formed many millennia ago out of the remains of decaying organic matter.
Hydrocarbons and carbohydrates work well in their respective domains, but unfortunately these domains sometimes overlap and the result is less than ideal. This usually happens when the former encroaches on the latter (although some critics of ethanol would argue the point). Most hydrocarbons are toxic to some degree, and some are highly poisonous. This is especially true of synthetic agricultural chemicals (including the various insecticides, fungicides and so on) and chemical warfare agents.
Even relatively benign interactions are annoying at best. Take the case of inorganic lubricants: grease, motor oil, and the like. When this slippery stuff contacts human skin, it can be as tenacious as a barnacle. Don't believe me? Try fixing a broken bicycle chain. No matter how much you wash your hands or with what, you will find that you have been superficially tattooed with tiny black lines that precisely follow every fingerprint and imperfection. You don't get to be completely flesh-colored again until days later, by which time your epidermis has exfoliated. Your skin had to literally wear away to become clean again.
What is the correlation between human population and environmental quality? And how do both of these correlate with quality of life? Can our numbers continue to grow despite the inherently finite nature of our natural resources? If so, at what price to the environment, and ultimately to ourselves? To take just one simple example, a recent study showed an almost exact correlation between population and carbon dioxide in the atmosphere over the last 25 years.
Imagine that you became a new parent today. Of course you want your child to have the best -- a life filled with enriching experiences, rewarding accomplishments, close friendships, and personal fulfillment. But consider the times ahead in which your child will live. If she is female, her lifespan will be about 80 years or so. On her 80th birthday, it will be 2075. What will the world be like then? If current trends continue, all of the rainforests will be gone. Also gone will be most of the ozone layer -- resulting in a global skin cancer epidemic. World food production will fall far short of the needs of the projected 11 billion people -- leading to exorbitant prices and frequent shortages. Pollution levels will be much higher than today -- and dispersed to the point that there will be no more safe havens. No pure water, no clean air, no organic food. Infectious diseases (AIDS and its kin) will be rampant. War will be everywhere. And of course, nature will be fighting its own destruction with every tool in the arsenal: floods, fires, hurricanes, volcanoes and earthquakes.
Imagine your child waking up on her 80th birthday. She goes to the window and looks out. What kind of world will she see?
My point about homosexual education is mostly (that homosexuals deserve) equality. They teach heterosexual education in grade school, don't they? If there were more homosexuals in our population, it would not be a solution but it wouldn't hurt as bad as the current culture that is so homophobic. Seems to me that in our pro-hetero-only culture of the day, women have an image to uphold. That image is to find a man, never be single for long, and have kids. Correct me if I'm wrong.
Equality is good only if there is also parity. The terms are similar, but I see a subtle distinction. Equality implies a one-to-one correspondence; parity requires only analogy. Two things can be similar in form or function, and yet not be identical.
Why is this important? Because the parity which underlies equality also justifies it. If parity is not there, there is no reason for the equality. That is, groups which strive to be treated equally should see each other as peers. Only then will they be willing to treat each other as they would treat members of their own group.
To take a "reductio ad absurduim" approach, would you call for equality between dogs and cats? Lions and hyenas? Mongooses and snakes? How about humans and chimpanzees (they share over 99% of our DNA)? Humans and dolphins (arguably smarter than we are, with a sophisticated language which we have yet to decode)? Humans and computers (much more logical and faster than us, and just getting started)? Or for that matter, what about Martians and Venusians?
To get back to your case, let's consider homosexuals and heterosexuals. Should they be treated equally? Of course, insofar as they are both human. But as a wise parent once said, "Praise the child; punish the behavior." It all depends on whether you think homosexuality is a sin. It certainly is the minor mode of sexual preference, but does that make it wrong?
Let's take another example: convicts and free men. Should they be treated equally? Again, of course, insofar as they are both human. But in this case, convicts are clearly guilty (at least in the eyes of the law) of some form of egregious behavior. Obviously the two groups are not equal, and should not strive for equal treatment.
In summary, anytime there is a quest for equality, it all comes down to one thing: is there an underlying parity?
Regarding my arbitrary choice of 'her': yes, it is intentionally sexist (or 'bi-sexist', if you will). I have thought a lot about grammar and sensibility and political correctness as it applies to pronouns in written English. I have never liked third-person pronouns when used to refer to anonymous individuals. ("Anonymous" meaning that the person could be anyone, and presumably of either sex.) "They", "them" and "their" implies more than one person to me. The PC alternative at one time was to use the awkward constructs "he/she" and "his/her". This is worse, in my opinion. It sounds so ambivalent - even legalistic. My preference is to simplify by just choosing a sex and sticking with it for that person. Later, when I need someone else, I'll choose again - also arbitrarily, and so on.
Of course, there are a few problems with this approach. First is that people are apt to label it sexist, as you did. However, as I said earlier, my policy is to choose arbitrarily, without regard for context. Thus I am equally likely to come up with male and female linebackers, or male and female dressmakers. It's an equal opportunity world; why not equal time for pronouns? Second is that the unexpected concreteness may be disquieting to some. I say, good and grand! The person who objects may need to be awakened from her complacent, stereotypical thinking.
Belching means that the food is fermenting rather than digesting. The fermenting bacteria release carbon dioxide, methane and other gases. These gases bloat the stomach and cause you to burp. Bacteria just love beer; in fact fermentation is what changes grain into beer! All that yeast and hops and sweet barley makes a wonderful petri dish.
Your stomach is like a washing machine. It needs to have the right amount of ingredients added in the right order to work properly. The clothes are like food, the detergent is like enzymes, and the water is like (you guessed it) water. The detergent (enzymes) act on the clothes (food) to separate the fabric (nutrients) from the dirt (metabolic byproducts). All of this happens in an aqueous solution, which must be of the right concentration or it won't work. As the instructions say, "add a measured amount of detergent". Similarly, if you drink too much water, you will dilute your enzymes. However, most processed food is more concentrated and dehydrated than its original source. In this case, too little water is just as bad, since enzymes need water to work.
Everyone knows that you don't stuff a washing machine so full that you can barely close the lid. Why then do they insist on overeating? The stomach needs room to churn its contents, just as a washing machine must agitate its clothes. The washing machine also needs time to do its work. It has a pre-programmed sequence of operations, each of which lasts for a specified time. Once it starts, you just let it do its thing. You don't add more clothes in the middle of a cycle, or take them out before it's through. And yet people routinely graze throughout the day, and wonder why they're always hungry.
I used to have terrible stomach pains if I didn't eat every four hours. For example, Jane and I would be at a restaurant and the service would be slow. I would eat the packets of ketchup, mayonnaise, hot peppers, salt -- anything to get food in my stomach. This problem is described frequently in Natural Hygiene literature. It is your body attempting to digest all the putrid remains of earlier meals that were never fully absorbed. Instead, they remain in the lining of your GI tract and hinder its efficiency. Most people would be amazed at all the decomposing food laying dormant in their gut. After learning to fast, I was not troubled by this problem again. I run a very clean system these days.
Start with a nail, for example. Nails are so simple to use that it doesn't take much to get the hang of it. Oh sure, the first few times you may whack your thumb with the hammer. But it's not long before you can wham a ten-penny home in five strokes every time.
The game of billiards is a little tougher. With eleven balls, you never quite know when two are going to collide, and how it will affect the outcome. Even here, though, with some practice you can get pretty good at the basics. You may not beat Fats Domino, but you might make most of the straight shots.
Bicycles have a lot more than eleven pieces -- hundreds of them, in fact, if you include all the parts that make up the chain. Keeping a bike properly maintained is almost an art rather than a science. Most of us know only about enough to be able to inflate the tires -- and that on a good day. When something goes wrong, we take it to the mechanic. Bike maintenance is not something many people do for a hobby.
Cooking -- now there's a real challenge. Just following the recipe books is never enough to guarantee results. It's no wonder they call it "the culinary arts". The average person can usually manage a decent plate of spaghetti or even a stack of flapjacks. But when we want a souffle, we head for Pierre's Bistro. It's his problem, not mine.
Another challenge is horticulture. Getting plants to grow requires the legendary "green thumb". It seems to me that this ability requires equal parts of experience, knowledge and luck -- all in large measure. You just can't force a plant to do anything, no matter how hard you try.
Probably the toughest thing most people do is raise their kids. Here, it's strictly on-the-job training. No amount of preparation, folk wisdom or book learning can ever prepare a parent for all of the screwball situations she will encounter in the process. You just make it up as you go along, and pray you did the right thing. Only time will tell if you did.
Maybe now you're starting to see what I meant by that opening statement. Each of the examples above is more complicated than the last, and each one becomes trickier to handle. The simple ones are amenable to logic and reason, and the techniques are fairly obvious. But as the tasks get harder, logic and reason begin to break down. Doing the obvious is not always helpful -- in fact, it will often backfire. The more complex something is, the more unintended consequences can result. So science melts into art, and rationality succumbs to emotion. All we can do is provide the right inputs, and hope for the best. Attempts at direct manipulation are useless at best.
The penultimate example of this is our planet Earth. As much as we try
to make it habitable for ourselves, we end up shooting ourselves in the
foot. For most of history, we have run roughshod over it, tearing it up
and reforming it with only our needs in mind. We forget that we are only
one of at least 38,000 species which inhabit this planet. And all of them
function symbiotically so as to make a comfortable environment for us all.
If one species upsets that balance, it has consequences for all the rest.
These consequences eventually boomerang and affect the disturbing species
as well - namely us.