Taking journalism seriously, but not literally

In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.

And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.

And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.

And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.

And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.

And God said, Let there be a firmament in the midst of the waters, and let it divide the waters from the waters.

And God made the firmament, and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament: and it was so.

And God called the firmament Heaven. And the evening and the morning were the second day.

The present form of the Hebrew Bible’s Book of Genesis dates back to at least 2,000 years, and broadly closer to 3,000 years. There are fragments and sections which are likely older and allude to widely known folktales whose familiarity has long faded to us, and so seem obscure and opaque. But let us stipulate as a thought experiment that something within the Bible is animated by a God, a supernatural being.* That is, the Bible is the true revelation from on high.

What does “true” mean? The earliest portions of Genesis are peculiar in light of what we know about the true genesis of the cosmos and stellar evolution through astrophysics. Water is H2O. Was there water before there as light, photons, which are emitted by energy? Water is not even an element, but a compound. And how was “heaven” (space?) created from these waters?

There are some, whom we call “Fundamentalists”, who take the Bible literally in a very plain and straightforward manner. They construct models such as “water canopy theory”, which preserve straightforward interpretations of these translations.

Critics of these attempts would state that the Bible is not a cosmological textbook. Rather, the Bible is about people, and those people did not have the cultural or cognitive tools to elucidate and elaborate on cosmology in a manner that is as powerful and predictive as today. Instead, they made recourse to the cultural and mythological furniture in their environment and repurposed it. As it happens, water is central to Mesopotamian Creation stories (for some obvious geographical reasons). It is not difficult to understand how the ancient Hebrews may have come out of the same milieu, or even “borrowed” these motifs.

This came to mind when I read two stories in The New York Times (to which I subscribe): Thomas Monson, President of the Mormon Church, Dies at 90 and Left Behind by Migrant Husbands, Women Break the Rules and Go to Work: Wives are shocking their traditional West African villages by earning money and running large households while their husbands are in Europe seeking jobs.

The first article came via a Tanner Greer blog post, Do Not Trust Journalists (A Mormon Example). His point is pretty simple: the obituary in The New York Times reduces a very long life to a few controversies of particular interest to the liberal coastal subscriber base of The New York Times. In other words, from the long-view of history journalism is just pandering to the preoccupations of contemporary readers.

But let’s be honest. A typical journalist at The New York Times is as capable of writing fairly and in an informed manner about a Mormon eminence as an ancient Hebrew scribe could fairly render the practices of their Edomite rivals and enemies. In other words, one would be naive to take journalism about cultural enemies, which to be frank Mormons are to the main subscriber base of The New York Times, as anything more than a reflection of the preoccupations of those constructing the narrative.

The second piece is richer and more difficult to grasp. The key issue for me is that agriculture in much of West Africa has long been matrifocal, with a large role given over to female primary production. It is not surprising at all to me that women in Senegal step up to fill the economic void left by men migrating in search of cash remuneration. The New York Times presents a patrifocal and male-dominated economy as the eternal customary practice in this region of the world…when the reality is that women have long been independent economic actors in Africa, and to be fair in much of the world. Though I don’t want to reduce it to a single cultural artifact, much of the difference can be schematized as plow vs. hoe agriculture. There is a certain type of highly intensive agriculture that began in the river valleys of Eurasia which seems to lead to a hyper-patriarchal society, where the role of women in primary production through direct labor diminishes, and the role of men, and in particular groups of men, increases.

These societies serve as the archetypes of traditional patriarchal villages where “women’s work” is driven into the home, and women in fact are isolated, atomized, and eventually totally controlled by patrilineal kinship groups. But, there are other forms of traditional village life where women retain a greater role as primary producers, farmers in their own right, who control and disburse their economic productivity as they see fit. These societies are not peaceful matriarchies. In fact, often they are quite patriarchal in their own way, with men whose primary activity is to engage in activities that supplement the productivity of their womenfolk through foraging, hunting, or war. Whereas the traditional patriarchal model of plow based intensive agriculture often is characterized by groups of men vertically controlling every level of economic activity and political power, which women becoming extensions of patrilineal clans, more extensive hoe based agriculture leads to more balance in economic power, and men and women occupying different domains.

In other words, the latter is rather like what is described in the article about Senegal today!

Does this mean that the writer was totally deceived? I suspect the reality is more complex. Though interior West African elites have long been Muslim, the populace has been Islamicized much more recently, within the last century (European transportation improvements actually spread Islam much more deeply into the rural areas). As such, “world-normative” Muslim family and economic arrangements have been introduced through the scaffold of Islamic family law. But, these arrangments are not always suitable for local conditions. Islam is fundamentally an urban religion, and its gender norms, in particular, seem to emerge out of the Late Antique Near Eastern and Eastern Mediterranean consensus of respectability, where aristocratic women were secluded from public gaze and were entirely private figures (this has deep roots, see ancient Athens).

There was an alternative tradition in the Near East. And that is of the desert nomads. Because of the nature of mobile pastoralism, it was not uncommon for womenfolk to be independent economic actors while their men were tending to their flocks. In fact, a form of polyandry seemed to have been in existence in pre-Islamic Arabia. In the Sahara, this ancient tradition continued with the Taureg, whose women traditionally were rather independent, and who even had some degree of sexual freedom before marriage (though note Salafism has been spreading among the Taureg, and these traditions are disappearing).

As devout Muslims, no doubt many Senagalese now accept the idea of total male domination of the economic sphere. But until quite recently this was not normative, and it would not be shocking if the old folkways had persisted in various ways down to the present.

What I think The New York Times piece reflects is a readership that has certain prior beliefs about “traditional” societies. As urbanites, they’re not familiar with the diversity of social and economic arrangments amongst village peoples and lack any feel for the variance in agricultural techniques, and how that might redound to gender relations. Additionally, like most humans, they think dichotomously, and imagine a society is either patriarchal or not, and that the two categories define a host of bundled characteristics. As it is, the reality is that many notionally patriarchal societies exhibited a huge range of freedom and power for women.

Consider this passage:

In Magali, Ida Traoré, 32, became pregnant with twins while her husband was living in France.

Her father-in-law called France to tell his son, Abdoulaye Diarsso, that his wife was having an affair. Mr. Diarsso immediately phoned her, to apologize. He had been away 13 years, after all.

“She has sexual urges,” Mr. Diarsso said during his first visit with his wife since he’d left. “It’s difficult to accept, but if I ignore this, I’m not being honest.”

This may seem liberated, but it reminds me of the controversy over the paternity of Genghis Khan’s eldest son, Jochi. His mother, Bortai, had been kidnapped by a rival tribe when he was likely conceived. In some extremely patriarchal societies, Jochi would have been shunned or even killed. The rape of Bortai would have been a dishonor, and she herself may have been killed. As it is, Genghis Khan treated Jochi has his son, and Bortai regained her place within Genghis Khan’s household. This reflects the reality that though the Mongols were very patriarchal, women in their pastoralist society were not simply chattel, but important political and economic actors. When the fathers and older brothers were away, it was the women and youngest brothers who managed the flocks in the home territories.

When I read long-form narrative journalism about other societies that are gripping and “speaks to me”, frankly I am suspicious. What I think is happening is that these people in other societies are being drafted into our own preoccupations. An American and Western, discussion and debate about gender relations have been smuggled into a very Senagalese story. Taking this sort of journalism literally is wrong-headed fundamentalism. Just as the Bible is not a science textbook, these sorts of narrative features are usually poor reflections of the societies they describe. Rather, they tell us more about what the writer knows and believes, and what the reader finds compelling and noteworthy.

In other words, read these long-form features like you read the Bible: to give you a sense of the outlook of the people writing the stories, not the details of what the stories are about (which is secondary).

* I do not personally believe this, as I am an atheist.

Why non-quantitative public commentary talks about race & gender (& religion)

One of the major problems with the intellectual commentary class is that 90% of them are college-educated (about half probably have some graduate education). In contrast, about 1/3rd of the public is college-educated. About half the employees at The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal are graduates of elite universities.

This isn’t that much of an issue when you think about who consumes a lot of this public commentary: the subscriber to The New York Times is much more similar to the commentariat class than the American public. The problem is when there are non-quantitative attempts to understand general society. The recent feature on “middle-class” families in The New York Times is a case in point. The families in question had household incomes which ranged from $100,000 to $400,000 per year. The census will tell you that the median household income in the United States of America is $59,000. The median household income in the New York City area is $50,000 (the feature was more about the lower end of the upper-middle-class).

From what I can tell the pundit class and pundit adjacent class have a weak “feel” for this reality of the median American. The successful ones make considerably more than the median and feel under-compensated in relation to other professionals of similar education or stature. Those starting out or marginally employed aspire to career peak salaries higher than the American median and mean per capita of $30,000 and $50,000 respectively.

Though on some level you can judge someone’s income by the type of car they drive, where they live, and the clothes they wear, it is not as visible and present in the room as someone’s race or gender. When I was in graduate school many years ago people who were from lower to lower-middle-class backgrounds would sometimes gripe to me privately about the tone that some of their peers took toward the stipend and benefits of Ph.D. students. In this case, it meant a stipend somewhat higher than $25,000 a year, with relatively good health insurance. Obviously everyone wants to make more money to study what they love, but students from upper-middle-class backgrounds, in particular, expressed total contempt at the level of the stipend. Students from lower to lower-middle-class backgrounds, in contrast, came from families where their parents may not even have made as much as their graduate stipend (with minimal to no benefits). The students from less economically advantaged backgrounds were more dependent on their stipend for obvious reasons (e.g., no family support), but they also felt somewhat aggrieved with the way that those from more affluent backgrounds talked about the money as if it was less than nothing.

The issue here is that graduate students dress and live in a particular way that is not very class differentiated, and class origin is not a visible characteristic. In the United States for various reasons, it is not common to speak openly and frankly to non-intimates about your class background, past or present. At academic seminars, a lack or skew of racial or gender diversity is immediately obvious, even if unspoken. In contrast, the very likely fact of skew of class or social origin is not visible. There are cases where two people are peers, and one of them is married to a professional (e.g., I knew a graduate student married to a CPA), and the other is also married, but has a stay at home spouse with a child (again, I knew people like this). These two peers have very different lives in terms of the economic resources available.

Going back to the bigger picture, the reason that the American pundit class doesn’t talk about class in a non-parochial manner is that it’s not salient. Even though much of the pundit class lives a racially self-segregated life (for example, most of the weddings on The New York Times announcements are racially endogamous), they are self-aware of this fact more or less. They have a feel for how self-segregated they are because the public spaces they often transit through are diverse in a way that their social or professional lives are not.

In contrast, struggling writers in New York City have less of a visceral feel for the reality that their existence as someone who graduated from a selective university and has some family resources to “jump-start” their career by doing things like put down a deposit on an apartment in an expensive area is not typical (writers from deprived backgrounds may not talk about it, especially with their colleagues who talk about their parents’ summer homes). Very atypical in fact. Intuition derives somewhat from experience. Without the experience the intuition is just off.

Beware scientists laundering their credentials

Recently Vox had a really bad piece up, How a pseudopenis-packing hyena smashes the patriarchy’s assumptions: Lessons from female spotted hyenas for the #MeToo era. The first thing you’ll notice is the crass inverse naturalistic fallacy that seems to be operating here. That is, you think of a state you’d find desirable (in this case, “matriarchy”), and then look at nature to find an illustrative instance to draw some lessons. I don’t always oppose this, but the people sharing the Vox piece are also the sort who’d find it “problematic” if others did the same (e.g., lobsters).

Reading the piece, I thought back to the fact that mammals as a whole tend to be rather polygynous, with males investing far less in their offspring than, for example, birds. This is why genomic imprinting and sexual genetic conflict is a thing for our broad class of tetrapods. I happen to believe humans are rather different in nature because of our evolutionary history from our mammalian cousins. Also, cultural forces are important to us. Our social complexity is hard to understand without acknowledging our plasticity, even though that plasticity is bounded by our dispositions.

But Katie Herzog in The Stranger reports that researchers who study hyena behavior are angry about the Vox piece because it gets the science all wrong.

This is entirely expected. The author is “a Ph.D. student in microbiology and immunobiology at Harvard University.” Someone who has this particular training can’t be expected to be up-to-date on the latest literature in zoology and behavioral ecology, let alone organismic knowledge about a particular species (usually, one might make an exception if she was studying the microbiome of hyenas!).

Science is very specialized. I can’t speak for others, but just because someone is a “biologist” doesn’t mean that they really know much about biology in a broad sense. Most biologists outside of population genetics have somewhat woolly intuitions about population genetics. I know the difference between a dendrite and an axon, but I don’t know much about neuroscience.

When a scientist opines on a field in which they have some distant relationship to, such as a microbiologist offering their thoughts on the relevance of the evolutionary and behavioral insights from hyenas, be very careful, because whether they know it or not they are laundering their authority from one discipline into another where it does not apply.  A few years ago a scientist on Twitter with a background in ecology was explaining to an undergraduate that “epigenetics has rewritten the genetics textbooks.” This was just flat out wrong.

Many ecologists have as much understanding of genetics as a layperson, and many geneticists have as much understanding of ecology as a layperson. Yes, most ecologists have probably taken a genetics class as an undergraduate, but they don’t know the literature, nor do they think much about genetics day to day. Similarly, most geneticists have probably taken an ecology class as an undergraduate, but they don’t know the literature, nor do they think much about ecology day to day. And really, classes aren’t worth much. I’ve taken introductory and advanced ecology courses on the undergraduate level, and graduate level ecology courses. I still don’t know much about ecology.

And these specializations are unfortunately quite narrow. I don’t study translational mechanisms in yeast. Talk to me about population genetic inference, especially in the context of diploid organisms which reproduce sexually.

It’s unfortunate that many science journalists are generalists who have a difficult time navigating specialized disciplines. But at least science journalists are not going to present themselves as experts. They are conscious of their limitations. I wish many people with a scientific background were too.