Monday 26 December 2011

Christmas Mass

By Alan Go

I was still reading new articles being written about Hitchens, where people reminisced about their favourite memories of him. This is why on Christmas eve, an hour before I was due to head off to midnight mass, I ended up watching the intelligence squared debate on the motion, ‘The Catholic Church is a force for good in the world.’ There is no shortage of people Hitchens has trounced in debates, but this must surely count as one of his most dominant victories. It is also one of the few occasions where he may not have been the most effective debater on stage, since Stephen Fry rather stole the show. Together, they walked over the ineffectual Anne Widdecombe and Archbishop John Onaiyekan. The numbers speak for themselves really:


Initial Vote: 678 For, 1102 Against, Undecided 346
Final Vote: 268 For, 1876 Against, Undecided 34

This put me in a slightly unusual state of mind as I entered the church. I almost felt ready to be antagonised, on alert for those statements which would cause offense, but I was to leave the church in a different, more complex mood altogether.

To put things in perspective, my family is very much of the ‘Easter and Christmas’ variety of Christianity, where nobody takes their Catholicism too seriously. This means I have had to attend only a few services as an atheist, since my deconversion several years ago, but it has been interesting to see how my experience has changed from year to year.

I should also make clear that I am not obliged to go to church, although my family say they would prefer it if I did. I mainly go because it seems preferable to spending an hour alone in my house. This means I am voluntarily entering into an area where I know I will hear things I disagree with, which would makes any complaining in my part in rather poor taste. In any case, I must confess to being far too afraid of quarrels to do such a thing, and even in the most egregious case, where the Bishop began urging the congregation to set evangelising as their top priority for the coming year, I was confident enough that no-one was taking him seriously, to leave the matter alone.

The religion in this church is well and truly of the moderate, mostly harmless variety, and not worth bothering at all.

My first mass after becoming an atheist was a disorienting experience. The rites and rituals which I had grown so accustomed to suddenly morphed from the sacred and spiritual to the bizarre and nonsensical. Praying for those who are sick or living in poverty seemed like a perfectly natural thing to do, but now it just represents an outdated belief in the power of intercessory prayer. It is impossible to realise how strange it looks to an outsider when the priest proclaims he is changing bread and wine into Jesus’s body and blood until you actually become an outsider, and then it looks very strange indeed.

I remember not quite knowing how to feel towards the congregation and priest at the time. Hatred for having lied to me, contempt for being so stupid, pity for being deluded, anger for being so self-righteous; all felt right at one point or another. Over the years, these have moderated gradually down, and now I just feel mostly bemusement.

The most striking thing upon entering the church this year was its relative emptiness. The hall is large, but only half the seats were occupied for one of the most important services of the year. There were no altar servers either.

I’ll admit to experiencing some schadenfreude upon noting these facts, although I do not know how much the drop in numbers is due to our parish’s uncharismatic priest, or any reasons other than a general drop in religiosity.

The combination of low attendance and slightly inept organist served to put a damper on what is normally the redeeming feature of any service, the music. On the whole, I prefer listening to Christian carols over most secular offerings at this time of year, probably due to the fact that I can still recite many verses from memory, and can even remember harmony parts, from my days in a choir. Considering that these people were celebrating the birth of their saviour, there was a notable lack of any festive spirit, which makes it less surprising that people would rather stay at home than spend an hour in forced seriousness before starting their family traditions.

This was the first time I’d attended mass since the catholic church had introduced some new modifications. In their quest to keep up with the times, church officials decided to go back to a more literal translation of the Latin. Instead of, ‘And also with you,’ we now have, ‘And with your spirit,’ and, ‘In one being with,’ has been replaced with, ‘Consubstantial with.’ There are various other harmless, synonymous substitutions, but my favourite has to be the addition to the confession of the words, ‘Through my fault, through my fault, through my own grievous fault,’ because apparently people just weren’t feeling guilty enough.

Curiously though, I could really feel the effect of these changes. I may have found the low level murmuring of responses in unison disconcerting once I no longer believed, but there was also a part of me that could feel the urge to join in. That’s the result of attending mass every week during your childhood. This allowed me in a way to reconnect with the sincerity I felt when I still had faith, and the profound feeling of the numinous that touched me on occasion when I was part of the community that muttered their quiet replies.

This time, the rhythm was no longer there. The words that were committed to memory no longer matched what was being spoken. It was as if a key anchor to the beliefs of my childhood had been removed, causing me to become yet more detached from my earlier state of mind.

I used to say that my lengthy time as a believing Catholic gave me some insight into the mind of a believer. I don’t think I can make that claim anymore. The growing confidence and clarity of my atheism has made the mental reasoning of believers increasingly alien, until I find it hard to empathise at all. Now, I realise that the emotional triggers are also fading.

Not that it matters too much. If I have lost anything of importance, I am sure I have gained enough to compensate, and then some.

Thursday 22 December 2011

Intro to AI

By Alan Go

Everybody knows that the internet is exciting, that it has the capacity to connect people from distant parts of the globe, that it allows people to become as informed and as knowledgeable as they want, as well as a multitude of other useful things. It has already changed life for all of us dramatically (you wouldn’t be reading this but for Web 2.0), and there is yet another new application making its way online, with the possibility of delivering huge benefits to many people.

As easy as it is to find information online, the internet is messy, and seeking to learn a topic by googling it and reading up as much as possible can be a haphazard and frustrating process. The arrival of e-learning is seeking to change that. By having focused, passionate educators collate their material in one place, it has suddenly become much easier for any driven students to find all the material they need clearly presented in one place.

The excellent Khan Academy already exists to cover all of maths, and much science, to secondary level, and now the universities are starting to arrive in the game. MIT has had its open courseware around for a while, and Yale has a smaller selection, but neither seems to have caught on in any big way.

A major new experiment took place last term, organised by Stanford University. They announced three classes that would be running online, with the flagship one being Introduction to Artificial Intelligence, taught by Sebastian Thrun and Peter Norvig. This new course represented a big departure from the old style of simply recording lectures during the term, and dumping them online.

First, it borrowed some of the best features from Khan Academy. Hour long lectures were replaced by much shorter videos, recorded specifically for the online contingent, most lasting less than five minutes. Combined with the fact that these were interspersed with quizzes, where interactive software allowed you to check boxes, or enter numbers in answer to questions, this made the whole experience far more engaging and easy to follow.

For the first time, the class was being run exactly parallel to the actual version being taught on campus, with all the same material being covered. This meant that there was a real time limit set on the class, as opposed to being able to take some time off, and return back to the same point whenever you felt the inclination return. Enrolling in the course meant making an active commitment to set time aside each week to watch the videos and learn the material.

It also meant that there was an online community of students all taking the class at the same time, adding strongly to the sense or realism, whilst also providing a group of people to ask questions to, and to provide help, if you struggled with a particular topic. Perhaps most importantly, they acted as your competition. At the end of the course, you would receive a letter of accomplishment from the two instructors (although not endorsed by the university), which stated your rank within the class, based on a combination of your homeworks and the two exams.

In ten weeks, the course sought to provide a brief overview of the many different topics covered by AI. The first half was more theoretical, dealing with search algorithms, formal logic, and the topic I enjoyed most, probability, more specifically learning about Bayes theorem, and its uses.

After the midterm exam, we took a look at practical applications, namely game theory and planning, computer vision, natural language processing and robotics. The highlight in this section was the chance to hear Prof. Thrun speak about his own work on driverless cars, and his experience in winning the 2005 DARPA Grand Challenge. Watching videos demonstrating the impressive skill of these vehicles, while learning the principles that governed them felt almost futuristic in a sense, but also represented what could be the next area where AI research could make big impact. Google has already used driverless cars in creating its Streetview, and it seems likely that this technology could start to diffuse into the mainstream very soon.

What then were the results of this ambitious experiment? From a personal standpoint, I am happy to call it a promising success. This really was a first of its kind, but managed to be hugely enjoyable and rewarding. Credit for this must go to the two professors, whose enthusiasm for their subject translated clearly into their videos, especially during the virtual office hours, when they would take the time to answer submitted questions, and where their broad knowledge and expertise became apparent.

Obviously and understandably, there are many improvements to be made. The setup wasn’t yet there to incorporate programming assignments, the only difference between the online and campus versions. Some of the earlier videos weren’t particularly smooth, and it can be hard finding good questions that can only be answered by multiple choice or numerically. The site also had a habit of crashing near homework deadlines, showing that some things, like last minute scrambles to finish work, will always stay the same, whatever the medium. The final exam (pdf) was disappointingly easy, but if that’s the kind of thing I’m complaining about, then I certainly shouldn’t be too upset.

More than 20,000 people completed the course, but most of the statistics on the class are still unkown. Prof. Norvig is set to speak at TED in February, where he will hopefully provide more information.

This project has hopefully cleared the way for this type of experience to become more frequent. Stanford University are continuing with a new set of classes (do sign up, you have nothing to lose) available next term, and it will be interesting to see how other universities will respond.

It has also prompted a lot of questions to be asked about the future of education in general, and of the role of universities in particular. Is the best use of a teacher really to stand in front of a class and deliver lectures with minimal student interaction? Will it become possible to receive more official accreditation for completing this type of class? Will there still be the same demand to attend prestigious, expensive universities and schools if all the material is online? How many professors will have the enthusiasm to run an online course successfully?

However these questions eventually get resolved, I am confident that an improved education structure will emerge, where high quality content is more accessible, and where it is far easier, for far more people, to achieve their potential.

Friday 16 December 2011

To Hitch

By Alan Go

There are too many hurdles in life to learn of them all by trial and error. That is why we look for the people greater than ourselves, those who can act as role models, and teach us the vital lessons so we may learn them more quickly, and without stumbling.

Christopher Hitchens was one of those people for me. I spent much of today watching his old videos, reading obituaries, and going through his old material. I realised while doing this, that if he had not featured in my life, I would have been a significantly different person, and the worse off for it.

Most obviously, he constantly reminded me of the importance of secularism. As one of the major causes of his life, he sought to impress upon people the danger that lay in religion, and in relying upon it for any kind of morality or wisdom. This for him, was simply an extension of his lifelong fight against totalitarianism, inspired by his own hero, George Orwell.

More generally, he taught me not to fear accusations of stridency. Although such an approach should not be used indiscriminately, if there is a practice that we find barbaric, or a belief that is obvious nonsense, we must not let charges of militancy or disrespectfulness prevent us from making our point. A movement needs people charging ahead at the front, daring to speak out in spite of taboos. Neither Mother Theresa, nor Mohandas Gandhi, was safe from his criticism. His willingness to call out religion for what it was, let fellow atheists know that someone was fighting their cause, and gave them the courage to join him in standing up for their beliefs.

An influence I feel keenly as I type this, is that of his writing. It is no exaggeration for me to say that I know of no finer non-fiction writer, or anyone who could match the elegance of his prose. Sitting among a list of people writing about atheism who are renowned for their clarity and readability, it was universally acknowledged that Hitchens was the best. Any time a new piece of his appeared in my rss feed, I would jump to it straight away, knowing I was guaranteed an essay filled not only with sharp insights, but also composed of beautiful sentences. This ability of his came out especially when he started writing about his illness. In particular, there is an article I regularly go back to about the importance of his voice. Every sentence is vibrant and sparkling.

One can become quite used to the specter of the eternal Footman, like some lethal old bore lurking in the hallway at the end of the evening, hoping for the chance to have a word.

His voice resonates strongly, as it does through all his work. When I read Hitch-22 or god is not Great, his voice immediately arrives in my head, reading to me aloud with perfect clarity. When I write, it is always with his voice and style in mind.

I stand firm in my conviction that the naturalistic worldview holds greater attraction than any spiritual one. The universe is wondrous enough as it is, and we can do without the distractions and obfuscations of the religious. But still, death is certainly a moment where it can be possible momentarily to struggle for positives. Hitchens led by example, and now, his example is no longer with us. When I think of the sentences that might yet have been written, and the speeches that will now go unspoken, it is impossible not to shed a tear. The world has lost one of its greatest writers, and is undoubtedly a less interesting place.

So we should mourn, but not too much. There is work left to do, and one less person left to do it. If you wish to pay tribute, then raise a glass and join the toast:

To Hitch.

Thursday 15 December 2011

What we missed...

By Noah Kidron-Style

As the Renegade returns from it's sloth inspired vacation we take a look at what we missed whilst on holiday.

Riots in London. I leave for a week and they burn down Tottenham, if i stay away longer could they get Manchester United, Manchester City, Chelsea and Liverpool... i'll get my coat.

Osama Bin Laden is killed. Queue bad jokes, chants of USA USA and that (deliberate) mistake from Fox News.

Libyan Uprising. The Arab Spring continued into Libya forcing out despotic leader Colonel Gadaffi.

Greek Debt Crisis. As the Greek debt crisis spreads to Italy, Spain and Portugal, Gordon Brown realised that perhaps he didn't save the world after all.

News of the World. We may be self indulgent and sanctimonious but at least we didn't hack your phone.

Royal Wedding...

Last flight of the US Shuttle Program. One small step for man, one huge dent in your dreams of becoming an astronaut.

Partition of Sudan. After years of civil war the Sudenise people vote for partition creating the worlds newest state South Sudan.

Olso Shooting. Tragedy hits Oslo as a lone gunman kills over 80 people in at a Labour Party youth camp. RIP.

Occupy. We really have no excuse for not covering this story, the London camp is 30 seconds from the school.

Syria and the Media

By Noah Carvajal

I have been following the situation in Syria, where a possible civil-war is looming in the midst of a struggling attempt at revolution against a dictatorial regime, with interest and revulsion. However, I realized that I saw no mention of it in most newspapers lying around the Sixth Form Common Room or the headlines and papers I glance at and read over shoulders on the tube to school. In fact, after a little research I discovered that among the major newspapers of this country only The Guardian and The Times published a major article on the situation.

After a flurry of media articles in November, not much is being said. The Daily Mail, The Telegraph, The Metro, and perhaps unsurprisingly The Sun were just a few of the many newspapers that, I noticed, failed to mention the continuing situation in Syria under the reign of Bashar al-Assad, at least anywhere near the front page spread. Comparing this event to the very recent and much publicised uprising in Libya, I find it strange that, this time around, it doesn’t seem like a story that the popular press are very interested in. It leads me to wonder, what’s happening this time around that makes it such an uninteresting story? In Syria there is mass torture of people aged from ten to eighty by Assad’s secret police force, Mukhabarat. There are unbelievable levels of government oppression and propaganda. The Syrian military’s tanks are firing into unarmed crowds of protesters. Literally tens of thousands of unconfirmed pieces of footage of atrocities carried out by the regime, mostly taken on mobile phones, have arrived on the internet. Yet the popular media in the UK have remained singularly disinterested.

This is not an argument of whether intervention is the morally right action to take or not, but it is my view in to what I think is a worrying state of affairs. Despite international condemnations from countries such as the US and Canada, who both imposed sanction on Assad’s regime, and from the Arab League itself, many ordinary people don’t seem to be aware of the situation. The basic humanitarian drive that pushed the Libyan revolution to the fore of the public consciousness seems to be lacking. The media do not report, the readers of the media are not made aware, and the story fades into the background, at best relegated into the ‘World’ section of a newspaper’s webpage. It’s not as if the story isn’t newsworthy, and I don’t understand how the papers don’t seem to want to report on it. I believe that it is their mission to educate, hopefully objectively, and create a public awareness of subjects that should be known. The plight of the Syrians suffering horribly under Assad seems to have gone unnoticed. Without media support aid is scarce, and countries are not pledging themselves to the cause. In November, Simon Collis, the British ambassador to Syria, said, “The international spotlight and...the international community...are aware of what is happening.” Now, I’m really not so sure.

(A documentary on Channel Four on 19 December, 11.10pm, called ‘Syria’s Torture Machine,’ is probably well worth watching.)

Editorial: A Response to ‘301’ - Sexism in The Citizen


By Jack Wearing, Editor in Chief

Absentmindedly flicking through The Citizen last Friday, I expected to see the usual; reports on the school’s sporting achievements, reviews of recent films and albums, perhaps a few politically centred articles. What I did not expect to see was a derogatory and highly misguided article denouncing feminism on the grounds that the feminist movement is ‘nothing more than a façade used by the female gender to disguise the fact that it is men who are being oppressed [sic]’.

This article was deeply misogynistic, essentially amounting to an incoherent and misinformed rant. The writer made several errors in causality, with most of his arguments making little logical sense. His paranoid assertion that women work men ‘to an early grave’ in order to take their ‘earned wealth’ in particular is so preposterous that it would be funny if it didn’t all feel so sincere. Equally disturbing is his claim that ‘the majority of women decide to take several years out of work’ in order to have children, seemingly comparing reproductive labour to a pleasant holiday. Lacking points of any real worth, the writer seemed to think that repeating himself ad nauseum counted as a suitable substitute; apparently we males are so ‘oppressed’ by women that it needs to be said in every paragraph, sometimes twice.

I could go on, but thankfully Theo Weisz of 3S has already provided this week’s edition of The Citizen with a response, intelligently dissecting the nonsensical arguments of the piece. His letter does an ample job of exposing many of the original article’s flaws, and fully deserves the ‘Article of the Week’ stamp above it. Between my previous paragraph and Weisz’s letter, the key factual inaccuracies of the article have been thoroughly dealt with, and I would now like to turn my focus to other unpleasant aspects of the article. One of the most troubling elements of the piece is that what begins as an attack on feminism as a movement quickly seems to dissolve into a rant against all women. In his letter, Weisz observes that the writer ‘portrays feminists as an evil group of women obsessed with taking over the world’. I would argue that he portrays not only feminists, but all women as members of this ‘evil group’. In his closing paragraph, he seems to imply that women are part of a grand conspiracy to control every aspect of men’s lives. This, and arguably other parts of the column, are not simply anti-feminist*, but fundamentally sexist.

Frankly, I was shocked by so blatant a display of ignorant prejudice, especially in the pages of a school paper. While I admire The Citizen’s editors greatly for printing Weisz’s rebuttal this week, the fact remains that this extremely offensive article never should’ve been printed at all. Now, I want to make it clear that I’m all for freedom of speech. I generally don’t endorse censorship, although I have to admit that I’m conflicted as to whether or not hate speech should be given a platform in the media, and it could certainly be argued that views like this have to be aired in order for healthy debate to occur (and this article has undoubtedly sparked a lot of debate). However, I think writing of this sort is particularly inappropriate for a school paper, especially one available on the school’s website. Imagine the reaction of a curious prospective parent scrolling through the paper online, only to see this article. To say that writing of this sort could be damaging to the school’s fine reputation is a gross understatement, and it troubles me that a piece so misrepresentative of the opinions of the vast majority of students and teachers at this school appeared in print in one of its own publications.

Whatever the basis for this piece’s publication, be it respect for the writer’s freedom of expression, confidence that a rebuttal would presently be submitted, or some other reason besides, I feel that The Citizen’s editorial team made a mistake in allowing this column publication in so inappropriate a forum. While the publication of Weisz’s counter-argument displays a balanced, objective stance on the part of the editors, I feel that this article has the potential to cause further offence, and to unfairly damage the reputation of the school and its pupils. I would implore The Citizen’s editors to remove it from the school’s website for this reason, if not simply for its inherent sexism.

*The writer’s understanding of the concept of feminism, incidentally, is severely lacking; feminism is not the same as misandry, and most feminists are directly opposed to it.

New, Bold and Ready to Take the Axe to Washington, Why the Tea Party Movement Has Failed to Stop the Same Old Candidates Winning the Republican Nomination

By Noah Kidron-Style

From left to right: Newt Gingrich, Rick Perry, Ron Paul
On February 19th, 2009, Rick Santelli’s rant against the banking bailout went viral across the Internet. By the end of the month it had fostered the Tea Party movement, a nationwide grassroots campaign calling for low taxation, dramatic cuts to spending and a literal reading of the American Constitution. It smashed the mainstream Republican Party, sparking a rhetorical desire for outsider politicians and filling the House of Representatives with new anti-establishment Tea Party candidates at the 2010 mid term elections.

Yet with the Iowa caucus just under a month away, the Republican Primary has turned into a two horse race involving two of the grand old men of the GOP. The true Tea Party candidates have fallen by the wayside in an extraordinary election campaign that has seen a rotating door of candidates try, and fail to unsaddle frontrunner Mitt Romney. Palin, Bachman and Perry all came and went before in a final bid of desperation the Tea Party summoned up the ultimate anti-establishment candidate in Herman Cain. Cain has never held a political position in his life; instead talks of his experience gained as the CEO of Godfather’s Pizza.

When Cain’s campaign spluttered to an end amidst allegations of sexual assault and adultery, commentators waited to see who would gain most from Cain’s fall. Few expected it to be Newt Gingrich. As the Huffington Post put it “Gingrich’s campaign still looks an awful lot like a book tour.” In comparison to Cain, Gingrich is the ultimate Washington insider. He was the speaker of the House of Representatives where he is best known for allowing the federal government to shut down in 1996, his failed attempt to have Clinton impeached for perjury and for being fined $300,000 for violating the Congresses ethics code. Despite the majority of his senior aids resigning in June this year, Gingrich has fought his way back to take the lead in both local and national polls.

Romney is a corporate insider. With a personal fortune of over $170 million made as CEO of Bain Capital and Bain&Co he is far cry from the fiscal hawkishness of the Tea Party. Last week he angered many middle class Republicans when he offered Rick Perry a $10,000 bet during a debate. It was widely seen as making Romney look totally out of touch, not hard for a man who made his money in the now discredited financial sector.

So why has the Tea Party failed? Some blame must be put on the Tea Party candidates. Mistakes cost Rick Perry who managed to forget which three agencies of federal government he wished to axe during a live TV debate, while Cain had to quit after allegations of repeated sexual harassment. Congressional Republicans haven’t helped either. The radical Tea Party intake of the 2010 midterms has put Congress into deadlock. Their ideologically fueled intransigents has put them at loggerheads with the White House and placed the USA perilously close to shutting down the government (for the first time since Gingrich was speaker).

The role of the twenty-four hours news media only adds to the problem. Gingrich and Romney aside, the rise to the top of opinion polls has always been accompanied by a similar rise in name recognition polling. This suggests that once the news decided that a candidate was on a mini surge, they would increase coverage of that candidate providing free advertising and rocketing previously unheard of people, like Herman Cain, to the forefront of voter’s minds. Once the novelty wore off and the networks streamlined their coverage, the candidates would move back down the polls and another would take their place.

Maybe this is it and the next president will be either Romney, a man most Republicans don’t want, or Newt Gingrich, a man whose own campaign staff thought had too much baggage. Or the conveyor belt of candidates could continue with Ron Paul, the intellectual godfather of the Tea Party who has the most conservative voting record of anyone in Congress since 1937. Or perhaps common sense will prevail and Obama will get reelected for the Democrats, one can only hope.

Reflections on a Royal Visit

Now that the event has passed, I am finding trying to write something about it unexpectedly difficult, and disconcertingly depressing. Certainly it counts as one of the few times, if not the only one, where knowing that I was representing the school filled me with more shame than pride.

If this is coming across as melodramatic, then that has been one of the problems with the whole affair. Questions over the sincerity of my concerns, as well as the nonchalance with which the majority of the school went along with everything, have formed a key element of my frustrations. I really am proud of my school. I thought we were the epitome of a liberal educational establishment, fighting to provide equality of opportunity, not caring who you are, or where you came from. By chance or design, I was in a school whose values I both shared and cared deeply about.

Except that on that one day, it did not feel like that at all. With the lower sixth in the standing upright in perfect silence in the Winterflood theatre, awaiting the entrance of the princess, so that she could be the first to sit down and enjoy all of the five minutes of the play she was going to watch, I could only feel embarrassment that my school was giving such a ludicrous level of respect to such a figure. Apparently our school is so confident in its pupils that the best way to showcase our talent is through a mixture of highly artificial demonstrations, and trying to keep the students out of sight. And also with a second plaque in the concourse to commemorate the visit. I don’t think I can come close to understanding why the school feels she is that important to us.

But perhaps the most galling think is that I managed to do precisely nothing in voicing my protest. A petition was ostensibly dropped for being too confrontational, but it was due just as much to a lack of support from peers, as well as varying levels of hostility from teachers. I thought that I could at least write a letter, but by this point, I was doubting what there was left to gain. I had wanted to see the school defend itself, to admit that this was all a cynical marketing ploy for good publicity, but would good would that have accomplished? No reply, it seemed to me, could have helped the situation.

Maybe I was just trying to find an excuse to avoid the battle. I was disheartened enough by events for this to be plausible. But for whatever reason, nothing was said.

The real kicker, and what upsets me most, is that I do understand how this could work out in the school’s favour, and how the publicity might even lead to us being able to fund more sponsorships. I profess only a tentative belief in my original position now, but even this strikes me as somewhat irrelevant. Even if I am wrong, there was a view that went unrepresented. And that may have been my fault.

So not only did fellow students not agree with me, many did not even take me seriously, or worse, did not care. Not only had my school invited a vip I did not care for, but to protest that decision afterwards could only make the school look worse. Not only did I feel strongly about the situation, but because of cowardice or whatever other reason, I did nothing of any note. Not only did I not do anything that I wanted to do, but it could be the case that I was wrong all along, and that using members from the royal family is a route to a net benefit for the school.

As I said depressing.

I’m not sure anyone, least of all myself, comes out of this in a good light.

Another take on the Royal Visit

By Luka Vlaskilic

Although I found it slightly hypocritical of our school, and our headmaster, to talk of City as a place that does not care where you have come from but where you are going, and to then invite Princess Anne, I enjoyed the Royal Visit thoroughly. City of London is a school with a long and amazing history. As I commented to one of my friends this year, the foundations of this school are older than the American Constitution.

I think that we underestimate our history; Britain was once a global superpower and the Monarchy is a symbol of our influence. I feel it would be difficult to imagine a Britain without the Queen, Buckingham Palace, the changing of the guard, and the occasional Royal Wedding. I may not be able to explain what is so appealing about the Queen and the Monarchy; maybe it is the beautiful clothes and immaculate jewels, maybe it is the grand lunches and exquisite teas (that we may have a glimpse of if we tea at the Savoy), or maybe it is the pure class of the Monarchy that many of the rich of today do not have. There used to be a time when it was required to where a suit and tie to go into the Ritz, but now if you are rich enough you can do the same in a matching Hollister tracksuit. Whichever reason it is for you, it is impossible to deny that the Monarchy is a global brand; estimates say 2 billion people watched the Royal Wedding.

The other undeniable thing is that no matter what we think, Royalty bring prestige and interest wherever they go. And if the Royal Visit improves the PR of our school or ensures more scholarships from the many benefactors of the school (who also attended), then that is definitely a price that those at our school who disagree with her visit should be happy to pay. It is naïve and foolish to say we must take the ‘moral high ground’ and reject her entirely for being born into a title. Surely that is discrimination, and maybe we should be looking at what she is doing rather than where she is from. I simply cite that she is a great fundraiser for charity and has also won a Gold medal at the European Championships. Even a few of the athletes who were welcomed last week cannot boast that.

Wednesday 14 December 2011

Review: Uncaged Monkeys


By Alan Go

‘The anus is very important’- Adam Rutherford
I’m not sure how often several thousand science lovers get the chance to assemble in a single venue, but I’m guessing not very. Uncaged Monkeys provided an opportunity for people to let out their inner geek, and to do so with pride.

It brought together many of Britain’s leading science communicators, allowing them to talk about the subjects they feel most passionate about, in the knowledge that they had an audience who would find them just as interesting. We therefore had Simon Singh (author of The Code Book take us inside a real German Enigma machine, Ben Goldacre (author of the Bad Science book and blog) give a disturbing, highly energetic talk on blobbograms, funnel plots, and the danger of publication bias, and Adam Rutherford showing us his tribute to Nasa’s space shuttle era on the giant screen, complete with deafening music. And this was all in the first half.
Comedian Robin Ince, who presents Radio 4’s The Infinite Monkey Cage along with Brian Cox, was in charge of festivities. He came across as a reflection of a large part of the audience, a layperson who though without a formal science education, was completely fascinated by the discoveries and the worldview that science provided, making him the perfect host.
The 13th of December was quite the day to hear Professor Brian Cox, pointer extraordinaire, speak. The 2011 results from CERN had just been released, showing ‘tantalising hints’ of the much sought after Higgs boson, causing Cox to go as far as to say that the day could become one of the most important in the history of physics. With almost everybody in the room having at least some idea of what this meant, Cox had the chance to delve into details that he might not normally give to a public audience. There can’t be too many occasions when the audience doesn’t flinch while complex equations are flashed up on the screen, or who only end up listen more intently as gauge invariance is being explained to them.
The audience was invited to send in questions via Twitter, with the questions split roughly evenly between the serious, and the not quite so serious. Our very own Mack provided the first question, asking Brian to reminisce about eating pies at Oldham Athletic (I didn’t actually hear the answer given; I was laughing too much at the time). A live Skype call to Prof. John Butterworth’s booze filled apartment in CERN was inevitably plagued with technical difficulties, although he did manage to nod a few times, and say the word ‘breakfast’ once to humorous effect.
Any time that wasn’t spent carefully concentrating on the speakers was spent laughing. Being funny and charming seems to go hand in hand with being an effective communicator, and everyone was prepped with nerdy jokes that the audience lapped up. Ince and Cox are both of course, well practiced in this game, and could spontaneously send ripples of laughter through the audience with impressive speed and wit. The crowd didn’t care much about which mode they were in, enjoying Goldacre’s serious and reasonably dark presentation as much as Josie Long’s skit about Darwin throwing salamanders and eating turtles.
A love of science, and a desire to spend an evening celebrating it, was the main thing binding the audience together, but the principles of rationality and scepticism were also loudly on display, with Singh tackling the Bible code, and Ince and Cox feeling free to make jokes at the expense of witches, homeopaths, and the 'nobbers' who believe in ghosts. This perhaps explains why a large part of the audience's reaction to Alan Moore (writer of Watchmen and V for Vendetta) was one of good-natured bemusement, as he discussed his belief in a 2nd century sock puppet snake god.
It also explains the warm reception for Tim Minchin, as he arrived just in time to sing two distinctly irreligious songs to close out the show. The first was new, (about magic Woody Allen Jesus) and the second, which closed out the evening, was his atheistic take on Christmas, White Wine in the Sun, accompanied by an impressive Brian Cox on piano.
If the evening proved one thing for me, it was that science saturation is impossible. The event lasted far longer than I expected (running from 7:30 to 11:00), but if it had continued for twice as long, I could have stayed happily transfixed in my seat.
To experience the wonder, power, and sheer interestingness of science, this was definitely the place to be.