Showing posts with label Jahren. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jahren. Show all posts

Saturday, March 05, 2016

You think you are stressed?

This post is a continuation from yesterday, which was triggered by the interview with Hope Jahren.  Jahren says there about her current research interest:
Right now, I’m interested in stress. We’ve done a lot of experiments around stressing plants to see how they recover and how they manage stress and things like that, which is funny because they’re actually pretty sadistic experiments. I mean, you can torture a plant until it’s this close to dead and then bring it back. You can do all kinds of things you could never get permission to do to animals, and it would be horrible to even think about doing such things to people—but plants are very much fair game in terms of any experiment you want to propose. Especially little small plants and stuff; which gives a kind of scientific freedom in terms of studying life. 
In the normal course of a day, we don't think much about torturing plants, while we have all kinds of issues with torturing animals.  (Well, unless you are a Dick Cheney or a Donald Trump, in which case you don't think twice about torture!)  Plants are life forms, too.  We kill them. We routinely eliminate weeds.  As Jahren puts it, "plants are very much fair game."  

But, there is more to the plant stress than that aspect.  
The interesting thing that we’re coming to is, what is stress? How do you define stress? One thing we’ve noticed is there’s a disconnect between what I think will stress the plant and how it actually reacts. So how do you measure stress? The same life event happens to two people—two people of the same species—they’re not going to react the same. So I can say well, I won’t give these little guys water for a few days, and then I’ll measure how much they didn’t grow, and then I’ll compare the stress between them. But I’ve already projected my own assumption about what stress should be into that experiment—lack of growth. I’m having a lot of fun thinking really deeply about how subjective the experience of stress is. Subjective in terms of human subject is one thing, but subjective in terms of individual experimental plants—that’s a whole other mind box that has to open in order to go there. So that’s what I can say about what I’m really excited about now.
A friend's father, who is a big time backyard gardener, routinely stresses his tomato plants--by not watering them until the time--and the plants always produce more tomatoes than one can imagine.  The stress makes the plant more fertile?  After all, producing the fruits means producing seeds for the next generation, right?

The anthropogenic climate change could add various kinds of stress to plants.  Maybe some will be stressed more than others.    I like the way she phrases it, especially because of the reference to work, earnings, and time:
if I quadruple your salary but I don’t give you any more vacation time, you can’t take that around-the-world tour even if it seems cheap to you, because you can’t get the time off. So now it’s not money that’s limiting; it’s time. Plants have a similar thing in that nitrogen can become limiting, water can become limiting when temperatures go up. There may be less water available in very critical places. So the economy of plants can also tip based on these secondary limitations. That’s also very interesting to us. But I think we need to start wrapping our heads scientifically around some of these scenarios that nobody wants.
Interesting, right, to think about what the limiting factors are? 

Even more fascinating a thinker Jahren is--she is not merely a science person:
When I was deciding what to do with my life, I felt a need to write. I was very drawn to books in a powerful way. I wanted to study them, with a capital “S.” When I got to college I learned very quickly that if I became a writer society would let me die on the street. And if I became a scientist I would always have a roof over my head and a job, and my labor would be something that people needed. That difference has always struck me as so arbitrary, because I was willing to put my soul into all those activities but it became very clear to me that society viewed one of them as important and one of them as optional. So, let’s think about that for a minute. If you’re a scientist, if you have scientific skills, society believes on some fundamental level based on what I just said that you deserve to eat, you deserve to sleep in a dry place, you are entitled to all these things. Now, if we conceptualize science like we do art—something creative that anyone has the potential to do, maybe not everybody is great at it, but it’s this approachable thing that people write books, etc.—why should they be rewarded for that in the same way? What if we really did view science like that as this thing that anybody can do? How would we conceptualize the value of it? Would we lose that protection? Would we lose this protection that scientists have from the street? From hunger? From unemployment? From irrelevance? So it always strikes me as hypocritical that especially when we start talking about how “oh we need all these people to become scientists and we’ve got to get them interested,” as if people’s personal yearnings are at fault. As if people aren’t already yearning for meaning and discovery and things like that.
 A wonderful thought experiment all by itself to "conceptualize science like we do art."  Jahren says that the purpose of science is "to feed the soul in the same way that art is."  I tell ya, there are some wonderful thinkers out there.  The world is better off thanks to them.

Friday, March 04, 2016

Finding meaning in life ... even in the lab

I read the following lines, re-read, and spent some time thinking on "the difference between staying and going":
I think that’s the fundamental difference between a plant and an animal, is that if an animal doesn’t like where it is, it can get up and move away. Plants have to stay there and take it. There are a lot of other differences between plants and animals of course, but I believe that seeps into everything about how different they are and I believe that I can look around me and see the things that stay. Better than a person who hasn’t devoted themselves to the same activities I have. I believe I know things about what it means to stay and endure and watch and grow. And I wouldn’t trade that for any other life. If everything I’ve done only brought that to me, if that was the only reward for everything I’ve done, then it would be worth it a hundred times over. You can do it too you know, look around you and think about the things that stay. And when you walk away, they’ll still be there and night will fall and rain will fall and the snow will melt and … in your mind you can inhabit another life and that’s the ultimate transcendence of yourself.
It is a wonderfully simple philosophical statement on life by merely reflecting on that one difference that plants and animals display between staying and going.  And what a contrast to Albert Hirschman's "exit" option on how we humans vote with our feet.

It is from an interview with Hope Jahren, who is:
an accomplished scientist and a tenured professor at the University of Hawai’i at Mānoa in Honolulu. She has received three Fulbright Awards in geobiology, and is the only woman to have been awarded both of the Young Investigator Medals given in the earth sciences.
Jahren has many observations in that interview, on matters that are far beyond the sciences.  I suppose that is the quality that real thinkers have.  Consider, for instance, some that I often end up quoting:  Nabokov the butterfly specialist and a humanist/novelist.  Steinbeck the marine biologist and a humanist/novelist.  Feynman the physicist and a humanist.  Russell a mathematician and a humanist.

Jahren's comments reminded me of Feynman's "the pleasure of finding things out."
I can appreciate the beauty of a flower. At the same time, I see much more about the flower than he sees. I could imagine the cells in there, the complicated actions inside, which also have a beauty. I mean it’s not just beauty at this dimension, at one centimeter; there’s also beauty at smaller dimensions, the inner structure, also the processes. The fact that the colors in the flower evolved in order to attract insects to pollinate it is interesting; it means that insects can see the color. It adds a question: does this aesthetic sense also exist in the lower forms? Why is it aesthetic? All kinds of interesting questions which the science knowledge only adds to the excitement, the mystery and the awe of a flower. It only adds. I don’t understand how it subtracts.
When Jahren talks about her "a deep affection for trees" she is referring to more than mere trees.  It is the awe and the aesthetic and mystery and excitement and everything else that Feyman referred to, and more:
I don’t think they love me back and I don’t think they know me, and all that kind of stuff, but I love oak trees because there’s pretty much a species of oak that can live almost anywhere. They just seem so indestructible, and they just have so many things figured out that we don’t, like how to live on the planet for 100 million years without substantially wrecking everything or wrecking themselves. I wonder if we’ll be able to go 5 million more. So in some ways I feel like I can transcend all the stuff that human beings worry about, each other and money and how men and women treat each other, and all that kind of stuff. I feel like I can transcend that by looking at a being that figured it out.
A sincere scientist is as much into understanding what this life is all about just as a sincere humanist is.  There is that something that transcends what we see, and to inquire into that makes life absolutely meaningful.