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    Why are we irrational? How a logical flaw stops us solving problems

    Myths and stories trump rational reasoning when it comes to analysing distant threats like climate change. But we have tools to combat that – and it’s a myth irrationality is on the rise

    Humans

    17 November 2021

    By Graham Lawton
    Feodora Chiosea / Alamy
    TAKE a look at the data to the right, showing crime rates in US cities according to whether or not they ban concealed handguns. Based on these numbers, would you conclude that gun control reduces crime? Take as much time as you want.
    If you answered no, give yourself a pat on the back. Most people answer yes, dazzled by the large number of cities with gun control and decreasing crime. But what matters is the proportion of cities with falling crime. That’s 75 per cent for cities with gun control and 84 per cent for those without. The rational conclusion is that gun control increases crime, or at least doesn’t decrease it.

    Before you punch the air or a passer-by, the data is fake. But faced with it, supporters of gun control are more likely to jump to the wrong conclusion. Opponents of gun control scrutinise the data more cautiously and more often spot the real pattern.
    The test is designed to winkle out a pervasive and intractable source of human irrationality, the myside bias. It expresses the tribal thinking that evolution has gifted us (see “Why are we good and evil?”): a tendency to seek and accept evidence that supports what we already believe. “You direct your reasoning to end up with a conclusion that is already a sacred belief or a shibboleth in your side, your team, your coalition, your party, your posse,” says Steven Pinker at Harvard University, author of Rationality: What it is, why it seems scarce, why it matters.
    On … More

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    The Riftbreaker review: Interplanetary mining with an alien twist

    In The Riftbreaker, you scout an alien world and prepare it for colonisationEXOR Studios
    Game
    The Riftbreaker Exor Studios
    PC, PlayStation 4 and 5, Xbox One and Series X/SAdvertisement
    WHEN writing this column, I try to remember that many of New Scientist‘s readers don’t play video games. With that in mind, I try to pick titles that have something to say about science or technology but don’t require knowledge of gamer terminology. This month, I have failed, but stick with me while I tell you about one of the most entertaining games I have played this year.
    The Riftbreaker casts you as Ashley Nowak, an explorer sent on a one-way trip to the distant planet of Galatea 37. Really, you play as her hulking mech suit, dubbed Mr Riggs. The story is paper-thin – there is a brief mention of Earth being uninhabitable after the “Yellowstone event”, presumably a reference to the potentially apocalyptic supervolcano in Wyoming. Your job is to survey the planet, construct a “rift gate” to enable teleportation back to Earth and to prepare Galatea 37 for colonisation.
    It all starts fairly simply, as you set up wind turbines and solar panels to power automated mines and gather resources. But then you come under attack from the local animals – overwhelming hordes of reptilian beasties. Mr Riggs is bristling with weapons to defend yourself. You can also set up walls and turrets to build a defensible base. Then there are the natural disasters, such as earthquakes and meteor strikes, and bad weather that interferes with your power generation.
    “Before you know it, you are chasing supply bottlenecks while occasionally pausing to mow down aliens”
    This loop – gather resources, improve your weapons and your base and defend yourself – propels the entire game, deftly blending two genres known as real-time strategy (RTS) and twin-stick shooters. The former usually involves building up an army and smashing it into another until one of you is wiped off the map. The latter is about controlling a character and ducking out of the way of enemies as you try to take them down.
    Combining these genres is a pretty weird idea, but The Riftbreaker really makes it work, as your base and Mr Riggs work in tandem to hold back the aliens. What I particularly like about The Riftbreaker is that, unlike mission-based RTS games such as genre classics StarCraft or Command & Conquer, your base persists throughout the entire game, meaning it grows into a sprawling behemoth. I occasionally found myself stumbling across sections that I had built hours earlier and had completely forgotten about.
    As you grow your base, the game introduces another concept that regular readers will know I am a big fan of: supply chains. While your initial buildings are made of easily available carbon and iron (or “carbonium” and “ironium” as the game strangely calls them), building the rift gate requires rarer materials such as uranium and cobalt that can only be found by visiting other areas of Galatea 37 and setting up outposts, which in turn need supplying. Before you know it, you are chasing the bottlenecks in your system while occasionally pausing to mow down aliens. It is as if Ellen Ripley got a side gig as a logistics manager.
    While playing, I did wonder if I should feel bad about strip-mining an entire planet. This point is touched on with a few lines of dialogue, and while you can choose to use only solar, wind, biomass or geothermal power throughout the game and receive a “going green” achievement for doing so, burning your way through the biosphere is too much fun to miss. More

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    Finch review: Even Tom Hanks can’t save this tame dystopian sci-fi

    By Gregory Wakeman

    Tom Hanks plays Finch, whose post-apocalyptic journey depends on a flawed, yet loyal, teamKaren Kuehn/Apple TV+
    Film
    Finch
    Miguel SapochnikAdvertisement

    FINCH has all the elements to be a dark, but ultimately uplifting, post-apocalyptic, sci-fi comedy drama. Not only does it boast Robert Zemeckis as a producer, it also comes from Steven Spielberg’s studio Amblin Entertainment and marks the second feature film of Miguel Sapochnik, who directed key parts of the iconic HBO series Game of Thrones.
    The primary reason it should captivate audiences throughout, though, is that Tom Hanks plays the title character. Hanks is in pretty much every scene as Finch, an ailing inventor who is the last person on Earth. Since he still has his trusty and beloved dog Goodyear by his side, Finch decides to build an android named Jeff to look after his companion once he is gone.
    But after learning of an impending storm that is going to destroy his home, Finch decides to leave St Louis, Missouri, and drive Jeff and Goodyear across the US to San Francisco in his run-down motorhome.
    Along the way, Finch tries to teach his constantly malfunctioning robot what it means to be human so that he can truly protect Goodyear, all while trying to find food and safety in the dangerous and ravaged post-apocalyptic world.
    Unfortunately for Hanks fans, Finch never actually comes close to delivering on its potential. While Sapochnik is able to create impressively menacing visuals of enormous storm clouds wreaking havoc, this feeling of peril quickly dissipates. Once gone, it never returns, as there aren’t enough set pieces to make you sit up, let alone put you on the edge of your seat.
    At the same time, while the reasons for the destruction of civilisation are heavily teased, Sapochnik’s direction and Craig Luck and Ivor Powell’s script lack the detail or weight to really make the film’s message about the dangers of climate change connect.
    The main reason why Finch falls so short, though, is that the camaraderie and relationship between Finch, Jeff and Goodyear doesn’t come close to resonating. Since Finch is struggling with illness, Hanks’s portrayal is rightfully timid and frail. But this means he never manages to bring out the humanity of the character, who spends most of the film either coughing up blood or getting annoyed at Jeff.
    Somehow, Hanks was able to develop a more emotional connection with a volleyball covered in blood in Zemeckis’s 2000 survival drama Cast Away than he is with Jeff and Goodyear. Finch was clearly inspired by that film, as well as Spielberg’s repeated use of science fiction to explore fatherhood. But it doesn’t add anything to the genre or explore the theme in an insightful manner.
    It also doesn’t help that Caleb Landry Jones’s vocal performance as Jeff is too flat. As a result, the repeated attempts at comedy fail. Instead, we are forced to endure scenes of Jeff falling over or misreading situations because he takes things too literally. All of which quickly becomes tiresome.
    Despite all this, Finch isn’t a complete miss. The score from Gustavo Santaolalla is particularly rousing, while Sapochnik and his editor Tim Porter make sure that there is a steady pace that averts a full descent into tedium. Jo Willems’s cinematography glistens, too. It perfectly complements Sapochnik’s framing, which means that a lot of the shots are utterly gorgeous.
    It is just a shame that Finch doesn’t actually do anything more heartfelt and thought-provoking with these images. Instead, it is the cinematic definition of style over substance and is ultimately so disappointingly tame that not even the star power of Hanks can salvage it.

    More on these topics: More

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    Why are we good and evil? A single quality may be at the root of it

    The human capacity for both good and evil has long mystified philosophers. Evolutionary biology suggests they are both offshoots of one of our oddest character traits

    Humans

    17 November 2021

    By Graham Lawton
    breakermaximus/Alamy
    “THE evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones. So it will be with Dzhokhar Tsarnaev.” So said Judge George O’Toole before sentencing Tsarnaev to death for his part in the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing. During the trial, it emerged that the killer was well liked by his teachers and friends, had been compassionate to people with disabilities and had apologised to victims and their families. But, said O’Toole, his goodness would always be overshadowed by his hateful act.
    The human capacity for both good and evil, often within the same person, has long been recognised and puzzled over; O’Toole was quoting the Roman general Mark Antony in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. What is it about us that endows us with such diametrically opposite propensities?
    Evolutionary biology has an answer, and it doesn’t reflect well on human nature. Acts of both good and evil are driven by altruism – and that is ultimately selfishness in disguise.

    Take our expert-led evolution course and explore the source of life’s diversity

    For a long time, altruism was a biological mystery. The prime directive of evolution is to pass on our genes to the next generation. Engaging in costly behaviours with no obvious survival pay-off seems to go against that grain. The polymath J. B. S. Haldane eventually twigged it: individuals mostly make sacrifices for close relatives, and hence help to usher copies of their own genes into the next generation. As Haldane put it: “I would lay down my life for two brothers or eight cousins.” Acts of true selflessness exist, but these are … More

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    Why are we conscious? The answer lies in other animals’ heads

    It’s easy to think human conscious experience is unique, but a better understanding of consciousness’s mysteries comes by tracing it back in the evolutionary tree

    Humans

    17 November 2021

    By Alison George
    Shutterstock/Jolygon
    THE smell of coffee, the blue of the sky, the anticipation of seeing a loved one: it is impossible to imagine our lives without the vivid conscious experiences of our every waking moment. And yet they have vexed philosophers for centuries. “The nature of consciousness is extraordinarily difficult to define,” says Eva Jablonka at Tel Aviv University in Israel.
    It was once thought of as an immaterial force, a “ghost in the machine” separate from physical reality. Today, however, many neuroscientists argue that our felt experience is simply the product of our brain’s inner workings. That makes the question of “why?” loom large. Many actions controlled by the brain occur unconsciously, beneath the level of our awareness. Why make exceptions?
    Grasping this means thinking outside our own box, says Anil Seth at the University of Sussex, UK. “Human consciousness is not the only form of being conscious,” he says. We tend to emphasise conscious experiences that make us think we are better and smarter than other animals, like our ability to recognise ourselves in a mirror, he says. “This is not very helpful.”
    The absolute fundamental of consciousness – having an actual experience of things – is something seemingly shared by many other organisms. “In my view, there are grades and varieties of awareness, and there is no principled dividing line about which – SHAZAM! – the light of consciousness is turned on,” says Daniel Dennett at Tufts University in Massachusetts.
    With a broader view of consciousness, we can look back along the tree of life to get an idea about its earliest glimmers. Jablonka, together with Simona Ginsburg at the … More

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    Why do we exist? The meaning of life isn’t to be found in the stars

    We are tiny specks of life in a vast, indifferent cosmos – but to say that decreases the value of our existence is to measure ourselves against the wrong thing

    Life

    17 November 2021

    By Tiffany O’Callaghan
    Wenmei Zhou/Getty Images
    WE CAN attempt to answer the question of why we exist in a literal sense: by tracing our human story back through the whorls and rifts of evolution, through the contested origins of life on Earth and the collapsing cloud of dust and gas that became our home planet 4.5 billion years ago, back to the birth of our universe some 13.8 billion years ago – and perhaps further still (see “Why is there something rather than nothing?”).
    Yet none of this story of happenstance helps us in finding the kind of meaning we crave: meaning in significance. “Now we know that the cosmos contains at least a million billion galaxies, each containing hundreds of billions of stars, most of which have planets around them. In one of these zillions of planets, as probably in many others, chemistry became complex and evolved in all sorts of critters, one of which, not particularly good in surviving, is humankind,” says physicist Carlo Rovelli at Aix-Marseille University in France. “It is clear that any ambition of this humankind to be particularly significant in the grand scheme of things looks silly.”
    That realisation was certainly a big deal when it first brought gods and mythologies we created crashing down, says Victor Strecher, who studies the importance of purpose for our well-being at the University of Michigan. That started in earnest in the 1700s, as scientific inquiry began to upend our assumptions about our central place in the universe. Simultaneously, the industrial revolution first saw people leaving long-established rural communities and venturing out into a wider world in large numbers.
    The mistake, says … More

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    Distant rocky planets may have exotic chemical makeups that don’t resemble Earth’s

    If a real Captain Kirk ever blasts off for other stars in search of rocky planets like ours, he may find lots of strange new worlds whose innards actually bear no resemblance to Earth’s.

    A smattering of heavy elements sprinkled on 23 white dwarf stars suggests that most of the rocky planets that once orbited the stars had unusual chemical makeups, researchers report online November 2 in Nature Communications. The elements, presumably debris from busted-up worlds, provide a possible peek at the planets’ mantles, the region between their crust and core.

    “These planets could be just utterly alien to what we’re used to thinking of,” says geologist Keith Putirka of California State University, Fresno.  

    But deducing what a long-gone planet was made of from what it left behind is fraught with difficulties, cautions Caltech planetary scientist David Stevenson. Rocky worlds outside of the solar system may have exotic chemical compositions, he says. “It’s just that I don’t think this paper can be used to prove that.”

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    After a star like the sun expands into a red giant star, it ultimately blows off its atmosphere, leaving behind its small, dense core, which becomes a white dwarf. That star’s great gravity drags heavy chemical elements into its interior, so most white dwarfs have pristine surfaces of hydrogen and helium.

    But more than a quarter of these stars sport surfaces with heavier elements such as silicon and iron, presumably from planets that once circled the star and met their ends when it expanded into a red giant (SN: 8/15/11). The heavy elements on these white dwarfs haven’t yet had time to sink beneath the stellar surface.

    For that reason, Siyi Xu, an astronomer at the Gemini Observatory in Hilo, Hawaii, has long studied white dwarfs. Then she met Putirka. Because he’s a geologist, “he was like, ‘Oh! We can look at this problem from a new perspective,’” Xu says.

    Xu had been measuring the abundances of chemical elements littered on white dwarfs by studying the wavelengths of light, or spectra, given off by the stars. Putirka realized that those measurements could indicate what rocks and minerals had made up the destroyed planets’ mantles, which constitute the bulk of a small planet’s rock, because different rocks and minerals contain different chemical elements.

    By examining white dwarfs within 650 light-years of the sun, Putirka and Xu reached a startling conclusion about the ripped-apart rocky planets. Contrary to conventional wisdom, most of their planetary mantles didn’t resemble those of the sun’s rocky planets — Mercury, Venus, Earth and Mars, the researchers say.

    For example, some of the white dwarfs have lots of silicon. That suggests that their planets’ mantles had quartz — a mineral that in its pure form consists solely of silicon and oxygen. But there’s little, if any, quartz in Earth’s mantle. A planet with a quartz-rich mantle would probably differ greatly from Earth, Putirka says.

    Such exotic mineral compositions might affect, for example, volcanic eruptions, continental drift and the fraction of a planet’s surface that consists of oceans versus continents. And all those phenomena might affect the development of life.

    Stevenson, however, is skeptical of the new finding. When you measure the elemental composition of a “polluted white dwarf,” he says, “you do not know how to connect those numbers to what you started with.”

    That’s partly because the destruction of rocky worlds around sunlike stars is complicated, Stevenson says. The planets first get blasted by the red giant’s bright light. Then they may get engulfed by the star’s expanding atmosphere and may even crash into another planet.

    Each of these traumatic events could alter a planet’s elemental makeup, as well as possibly send some elements toward the white dwarf ahead of others. As a result, the planetary remains that end up on the star’s surface at one snapshot in time may not reflect the world’s starting composition.

    Xu agrees that astronomers don’t know precisely how the breakup plays out or which elements wind up falling onto the white dwarf. Future theoretical studies could provide insight into the matter, she says. 

    She also notes that astronomers have caught asteroids disintegrating around white dwarfs, which offer a small window into the actual breakup process. And future observations of these white dwarfs, she says, could help reveal any changes in elemental composition over time. More

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    Having impostor syndrome may actually make you better at your job

    People who are less confident at work were rated as having better interpersonal skills, suggesting there may be upsides to impostor syndrome

    Humans

    14 November 2021

    By Alice Klein
    People who doubted themselves more were rated as having better interpersonal skills by their supervisorsSFIO CRACHO/Shutterstock
    People with “impostor syndrome”, who feel underqualified for their jobs, tend to make better employees because they compensate by striving to be likeable, empathetic and collaborative, new research suggests.
    The term impostor syndrome was coined in 1978 by two psychologists who studied women with illustrious careers. These women still believed they were “really not bright” and thought they had risen to their distinguished positions through luck or error.
    These impostor thoughts have since been found to … More