Fortunate Fowl

We have been feeding our local birds for several years now. I've written before about my questions of whether this practice is good for them or not. On the positive side, we offer them sunflower seeds, which are packed with fat and nutrients. We've observed our local birds sometimes parenting three broods in the summer—which is a good indication they are healthy. On the negative side, it's possible to spread disease if the offered food becomes contaminated. In addition, the feeders can attract hawks. All in all, I've concluded that feeding our birds is helpful to them. The readily available high-quality food gives them quality nutrition and we've noted few hawks coming around.

We have a contingent of birds that reside here all year long, and constantly partake of our offering of seeds. There are other species that migrate through from time to time—stopping to fill up on the offered goodies, before they continue on their travels. 
 
I sometimes wonder, however, about another possible impact of feeding our local birds: Might we be contributing to their laziness? Birds who inhabit the surrounding deep woods must work far harder to feed themselves, than our fortunate fowl. A bird must consume a large number of calories each day, in order to survive. The expression “eat like a bird” suggests that they consume a modest amount of food, but if they weighed as much as a person, they'd need to eat over 6,000 calories of food every day!

So our pampered birds definitely have it easy. They can devour their daily intake in a fraction of the time that forest birds do. A few minutes at the feeder and then they can goof off the rest of the day. I wonder what they do with all that leisure time. Do they make productive use of it? Do they just lounge on their perches, or do they engage in fruitful activities? Do they discuss bird philosophy? Do they get involved in art projects? Are they at all appreciative of the golden opportunity they've been given and thus devote time to the loftier pursuits of life, or to helping their fellow birds? Or are we just contributing to their indolent lifestyle?

Then I worry about making them overly dependent and helpless. What would they do if we went away for a couple of weeks in the dead of winter? Could they survive without their daily alms? Have they lost the ability to take care of themselves?

And there's yet more to worry about. Wild birds dine on a variety of food sources—seeds of all sorts, bugs, plant material, etc. Are these wild cousins getting a more balanced diet and thus actually healthier in the long run? A fare of exclusively sunflower seeds may not be giving our local birds the balanced nutrition they require. In the summer they can supplement our offerings with bugs and thus ingest a variety of protein, but in the winter they dine on a monotonous diet.

Oh, what tangled webs we weave, when first we ask them to receive... our humble offerings. The ramifications of a simple act of generosity can be so complex. Maybe I should go consult and avian nutritionist.

Sunflowers

It's a good time of year to look at a summer sunflower. Click to enlarge.

Telephone Trauma

The older I get and the more I recede into hermitage, the greater the distance grows between me and telephone usage. In my younger years—especially during my career—the telephone was an indispensable tool. I used it many times a day. It was my principal connection to the rest of the world, and since I was at the time fully a member of society, it was essential. This was back in the days before cell phones, when the thing you talked into had a cord attached to it and operated only over land lines.

Now I live in the woods—quite isolated from civilization, at least for ongoing face-to-face contact. What connection I have to society is now largely maintained through the internet or visits from friends. I rarely go out into the world—I invite friends from the world into my home. Thus the telephone is no longer a key tool for me. In fact, it has become increasingly intrusive, as robo-calls and undesired solicitors constantly pester us. Rather than welcoming the phone these days, I find it often serves as an apparatus for invading my solitude. We have learned that phone solicitors could not care less about any so-called ”Do Not Call Lists” which the government establishes. The intruders have many sleazy ways of keeping a step ahead of controls on their odious activities. They are just one more infuriating example of assaults on our privacy.

But there's another completely different way that I have experienced telephone trauma a couple of times, and it's caused by my not owning a cell phone (let alone one that might be called smart). What? No cell phone? Don't even vast numbers of people in poor countries use cell phones? I have chosen not to get one, because of my decision to live a solitary existence, and to exist on a land line. Besides, the internet provides me most of the services people acquire from their cell phones. Well, that is, except GPS—but I rarely go anywhere any more, so that is no inducement.

Yet I still do venture out on rare occasions—I've even found it necessary to fly a couple of times, during this last decade. Traveling without a cell phone can at times be rather traumatic, I have found. It is no problem for me when I am accompanied by a normal human who possesses a smart phone, but when I'm alone it can be very harrowing, because I've had to seek out a payphone a few times. Trying to locate a payphone these days while on the road is like wandering through the woods, hoping to spot a dodo.

My most traumatic telephone experience occurred several years ago, when I was traveling downstate, headed for a few days' visit with friends. I looked desperately for a payphone, to let them know what my arrival time would be. Mile after mile slipped by—the landscape utterly payphone-less. At last I spotted a booth! Pulling the car over, I stepped inside, to discover a vandalized, non-functioning telephone. I drove on, evermore desperate to call. Another phone booth! This one looked to be in good shape. I filled it with coins, dialed my friends, to hear Sue answer, only to find out that she couldn't hear me! I had a phone that would willingly send, but refused to receive.

These experiences have been enough either to cause me to buy a cell phone or stay home. I'm choosing the latter. There, my only telephone trauma is those damnable solicitors who invade my privacy. I have, however, a form of retaliation: I unplug the bloody machine, at those times that I treasure my solitude—which would be about 22 hours a day, if I didn't have to compromise with my wife.

Sunset on TRAPPIST-1

An artist's rendition of a sunset on a planet of the TRAPPIST solar system. Nearly two years ago NASA discovered the TRAPPIST-1 system (40 light-years away), containing seven Earth-sized planets revolving around a red dwarf star. Three of the planets are within the habitable zone around their star. This is an exciting find, and it has NASA scientists giddy with possibilities. Note two planets to the left of the setting star.

Examined Existence

One of the hallowed dictums of Western philosophy, that goes back to Socrates' time, is “know thyself.” This advice has engendered numerous interpretations, but one of the main points that Socrates seems to have made is that the most satisfying way to spend one's time in this existence is leading the “examined life.” In fact, he is often quoted as saying something like “the unexamined life is not worth living.” That assertion can seem a little harsh or even elitist. Some scholars maintain that it's an incorrect translation of ancient Greek, and should be stated more like, “the unexamined life is not the one to live,” or maybe even “the examined life is the way to live.” Slogans and maxims often get misinterpreted.

Whatever Socrates really said (and that's just conjecture, because most of what we have is Plato's account—no Socratic writings), the majority of philosophers agree that his message was that a worthwhile life must contain lots of self-examination. For one to arrive at a modicum of truth and understanding, it is necessary to continually scrutinize one's reasoning and thoughts, in order to live well and make wise decisions. Those who don't, will repeatedly make foolish decisions and commit unhealthy actions—for themselves or others. Eastern philosophers (the Buddha and Confucius being good examples) had a similar kind of advice—teaching that meditation and contemplation were excellent methods of self-examination.

Pondering this view, I recently found myself thinking about the relationships and contrasts between four things: (1) my perceptions, (2) my emotions, (3) my behavior, and (4) the truth. My perceptions describe my current understanding of my world—my ability to correctly comprehend what it's all about. My emotions can be quite different, in that they often stem from unconscious drives. Freud was a champion of describing the crucial role of our unconscious processes. Then there's my behavior—what I do. I may believe I think one way, but sometimes act quite another. And finally there is the truth... reality. Am I tuned into the authenticity of my world, or am I living some kind of fantasy?

I believe that a core aspect of the examined life for me is to weigh these four aspects of my life and try to discern how close or removed my existence is from the truth. The first three of these requires that I probe as well as I can what's going on in my life—what I think, how I feel, and what I do. If there is a significant disparity between them, I have some serious internal work to do. But even if these three aspects of my being are pretty much on the same page, I still need to compare them to reality. That comparison and what I do about it is central to the examined life that Socrates promoted.
 
A key part of the process is to maintain a respectable level of intellectual humility. What do I know? How do I know it? Am I justified in my beliefs? And—most critically—can I be wrong about what I believe? Many of us cling to our beliefs, convincing ourselves that they are genuine. It requires a decent amount of humility to admit that there could be a measurable amount of bullshit in our opinions.

I liken this process of self-examination to the scientific process. It contrasts strongly with the certainty that some people feel they get from authorities or scripture. Science admits that it may never have the complete story, so it engages in an ongoing method of evaluating and improving its understanding of the truth—step by step. The examined life follows the very same procedure: in a sequential process, we take a close look at our perceptions, compare them to truth, and adjust accordingly. I believe that this can involve a careful consideration of not just my perceptions, but including in the process an evaluation of my emotions and behavior—and then weighing it all against the truth. It may be seen as a scientific way of conducting an examined existence.

Clandestine Colossus

Recent research conducted over a span of 10 years by 1200 scientists from 52 countries (that's one hell of a collaboration!) has discovered a vast subterranean ecosystem that is almost beyond belief in its size and mass. It is in the form of microbes that likely weigh somewhere between 10 and 25 billion tonnes. That's several hundred times the combined weight of all of us human beings! Just try to wrap your head around the fact that all these tiny, one-celled critters outweigh Homo sapiens several hundred times over—and they are all below the planet's surface, out of sight! We like to believe that we surface creatures are what it's all about, as we walk, swim, and fly across the crust of Earth.

These microbes live in conditions that we deem hostile to life, yet they prosper in extremely hot locations (up to 122^o C or 250^o F, like inside an oven), with no light, under intense pressures, and with minuscule nutrition. Some of their life spans are measured in geologic times, their pace is so slowed down. They are alive and do metabolize, but use such little energy that they live for millennia and appear to be in stasis. Their movement can be measured in centuries—triggered by tectonic plate shifts, earthquakes, or volcanic eruptions. At first glance, they would appear not even to be alive. We already know that microbes—bacteria and archaea—dominate on the Earth's surface, but these findings show that less than 30% of all the planet's microbes live on the surface—the vast majority is hidden.

The scientists who made this discovery did so by creating boreholes up to 5 km (3 miles) deep. The latest types of microscopes were also employed. Since the underground microbes are buried so deeply, they live in a pristine world—as yet uncontaminated by humans. As we foul the planet's surface, they continue to live beyond the reach (so far) of our harmful technologies.

These findings raise some intriguing questions about life on Earth—and possibly elsewhere. Where and how did life begin on our planet? Did it originate at the surface and later migrate downward or did it start at depths and later move upwards? What do we make of critters whose metabolism is so slow that they endure for millennia? Maybe these microbes could be identified by this study as living, because all life on Earth has similar properties and the scientists recognized some familiar features. 
 
What might this discovery say about examining possible life forms on another planet or even moons of our solar system, where life there may be of a very different chemistry or live a much slower existence—so slow that we may not even recognize them as living? If humans continue their reckless ways, the environment on Earth's surface may become unlivable for most species. If that happens, are these underground microbes—this clandestine colossus—waiting to surface one day and reinhabit our planet?

There are undoubtedly many other questions that could arise, as we continue to explore and characterize this vast underground ecosystem. We keep making discoveries that broaden our understanding of the various forms and conditions of life. It is opening us up to possibilities that we recently had no idea existed. What new discoveries await us—here on Earth or out there?

Earth from Lunar Orbiter

This is a NASA photo taken recently from a lunar orbiter satellite of the Earth. Click to enlarge.