Providentia

Can Smartphones Make Us Absent-Minded?

Do you have a smartphone?   Chances are you do.

According to survey results, an estimated 77 percent of Americans own a smartphone.   That represents a spectacular jump from 2011 alone when only 35 percent reported owning them.  And the numbers are even higher among 18 to 29-year-olds with 92 percent owning at least one phone.    As you can see from these statistics alone, smartphones are already a major part of 21st century life.  Along with a way of staying in touch with friends and family members, smartphones can used to take and share photographs, surf the Internet, navigate using GPS, listening to music, playing videos, etc.  

But for all the advantages that smartphones can provide, they have a dark side as well.   Certainly, they can have a negative impact for any task requiring undivided attention, including driving.   Not only are 27 percent of all automobile believed to result from talking or texting while driving, but smartphone use has also been implicated in several recent rail disasters as well.   In fact, smartphone use while driving is often as detrimental as impaired driving.  

As smartphone use continues to pervade modern life, we are seeing more examples of how they can interfere with important tasks.   Not only have surgeons admitted to using their phones while carrying out delicate surgical procedures but research has also demonstrated that students who use their phones to talk or text during class tend to do more poorly than students who don't.    Ringing phones are also a constant irritation during lectures and other public events and many public forums have a smartphone ban as a result.

In recent years, numerous research studies have reported on the potential impact of smartphone use on different aspects of cognitive functioning, particularly in terms of attention span.   Much of this research focuses on the kind of multitasking seen in people using smartphones and other digital devices.  One brain imaging study showed that heavy multitaskers have less gray matter in the anterior cingulate cortex that people who use digital media less frequently.   Results like these, while intriguing, also bring up a vexing question about cause and effect:   Does smartphone use have a detrimental impact on brain development or are people who already have limited attention spans more likely to rely on their smartphones?   For that matter, how does smartphone use relate to the kind of simple absentmindedness to which everyone is prone once in a while?

To read more, check out my new Psychology Today blog post.  

 

The Problem with Oliver Heaviside

Though Oliver Heaviside was one of the great scientists of the past two centuries, he was also a very strange man.  And he became even stranger as he grew older.

Born in 1850 in London's Camden town, his early childhood childhood was marked by poor health and poverty.  There was also some evidence suggesting that his father was physically abusive.  Heaviside would later describe his father as a "tyrant" and also wrote, "when I was young, my father took me to the doctor in the hope of finding out whether it was what I had for breakfast that made me so stupid."   At an early age,  he developed scarlet fever and, despite recovering, became partially deaf.  Already a loner, his deafness made him even more alienated from the people around him.   

Despite this harsh childhood, Heaviside was an excellent student and his uncle, the prominent inventor Sir Charles Wheatstone (who co-invented the telegraph) oversaw his education.   This formal education ended at sixteen when he left school but Heaviside continued studying everything he could about electricity, physics and mathematics.   At the age of eighteen, he went to work as a telegraph operator but still studied electricity in his spare time.   He also began publishing scientific papers on electricity while working in Denmark and Newcastle.

Withdrawing From Society

If his parents were bemused by their son's fascination with science, they were appalled when he abruptly quit his job and moved into their Devon home.   At the age of twenty-four, Oliver Heaviside had apparently had enough of telegraph work and decided to dedicate himself to studying electricity and mathematics full-time.  He would never hold a paid job again.  For the next fifteen years, he studied non-stop in a small, dark room in his parents' home.   While baffled by their son's bizarre behaviour, his parents did their best to support him financially.  Since he rarely came out of his bedroom, his mother often just left food trays outside his door and he needed to be urged to eat anything at all.  

Although Heaviside's early self-exile was fairly productive, with numerous important papers being written, those papers were extremely hard for editors to understand.   Not only did he fill them with obscure scientific references, he also made no attempt to make them understandable.  Since he had no academic credentials (being almost entirely self-taught), editors were not motivated to take him seriously despite his link to Charles Wheatstone.   They were hardly the only ones to have that opinion about Oliver Heaviside though.   For the rest of his life, he lived off the charity of his parents, brother, the few friends he had left and, eventually, a small government pension.  It's probably not surprising that he was a lifelong bachelor. 

Despite the revolutionary nature of his scientific achievements, Oliver Heaviside never got along with the scientific establishment.  Technical journal editors routinely rejected his papers as unreadable and some experts denounced his long equations (with few, if any, reference notes to explain them) as a "superior form of gibberish".   Heaviside's work would eventually transform science and mathematics but he had no patience with people who failed to grasp what was so obvious for him.   He also devoted years to absorbing the lengthy works of James Clerk Maxwell and condensing them into a more understandable form. 

Along with  more academic applications, many of Heaviside's discoveries would also revolutionize telegraph operations as well.  He also branched out into radio applications and speculated on the existence of a reflective layer in the ionosphere that could bounce signals over long distances (now known as the Kennelly-Heaviside layer in his honour).    Unfortunately, his ideas on improving long-range telegraph transmissions were out of step with accepted theories.  His habit of sarcastically abusing his numerous critics didn't help either.  Not only did journal editors reject his papers but his various patents failed to earn him any real income during his lifetime.

While he was certainly controversial, Oliver Heaviside was slowly recognized as a scientific genius although his numerous quirks were hard to overlook.   Not only did he insist on keeping his rooms as dark as possible,  he also preferred to keep them as hot as he could manage (usually using oil lamps).   One friend described his room as "hotter than hell".    by 1908, he finally gave up on London and moved to a small cottage in Newton Abbot, a town in southern England.   Since he was relatively unknown outside of scientific circles, his few neighbours avoided him and he gained a reputation as a (mostly harmless) lunatic.   He had long since stopped publishing scientific papers by then and his odd lifestyle became, well, even odder.  

For reasons that he never really explained to anyone, Heaviside began signing all of his letters with the acronym "W.O.R.M." (which likely fit in well with his neighbours' opinion of him).  He replaced his furniture  with granite blocks and avoided people whenever possible.   Heaviside had a special contempt for his neighbours whom he accused of staring at him "like an animal in a zoo".   Considering his extremely bizarre appearance and poor hygiene, it's probably not surprising that his neighbours considered him an outcast.  He was even targeted by local children who threw rocks at his windows and frequently plugged up the sewage drainpipe leading to his cottage.  

Returning To Devon

To get Heaviside away from Newton Abbot, his brother Charles arranged for him to live with his sister-in-law, Mary Way, at her home in Devon.   Since Mary lived alone, having the eccentric Heaviside live upstairs from her seemed like a good idea.  Unfortunately, things got even more bizarre at that point.  Heaviside insisted on treating Mary as a slave despite her being the owner of the house.   Not only did he order her to write to her friends and family and insist that they not visit her,  he also demanded that she never leave the house without permission.  The exact reason for his possessiveness is not really clear considering that he was largely asexual throughout his lifetime.   Still, his brutal treatment of Mary Way or why she allowed the abuse to continue seems impossible to understand even today.

Friends were astonished that Mary allowed her house guest to control her.  They were even more astonished when she showed them the contract that Heaviside had insisted she sign which, among other clauses stipulated that:

Mary Way agrees to wear warm woolen underclothing and keep herself warm in winter.  Mary Way agrees never to go out without Oliver Heaviside's permission.   Mary Way agrees never to give anything away without Oliver Heaviside's permission.

He did whatever he could to enforce the clauses of the contract, including taking away Mary's shoes to keep her from leaving the house without permission.   After seven or eight years of this virtual slavery, Mary sank into a catatonic state and her nieces, finally having enough of the abuse, took her away (despite her still being the owner of the house).   Heaviside's only reaction was to tell anyone who asked about her that she had become "mad and had to be put away".    After considerable legal wrangling, Mary eventually agreed to sell her house to him and he lived there for the rest of his life.  While he fought regular battles with the local gas company over enormous heating bills (he could never keep the house hot enough to suit him),  Heaviside managed to function well enough on his own.

Despite being virtually ignored by the scientific community for years, the Institute of Electrical Engineers decided to make up for their neglect by awarding Oliver Heaviside the first ever Faraday Medal in 1922.   Refusing to leave his house for an award ceremony, Heaviside eventually agreed to receive a single delegate, the president of the Institute, to present him with the medal.   That was his last real contact with the outside world except for those few friends and family members who watched over him.  

The Death of a Hermit

Although he was a hypochondriac who worried over his health, Heaviside refused any medical care.   After a serious fall from the top of a ladder in late 1924, he refused a doctor and insisted on recovering on his own.  In January 1925, friends called police when they were unable to get any answer at his house.  He was found unconscious in his bedroom and taken by ambulance to a nursing home in Torquay (the only time in his life that he had ever been in a motor vehicle).   Oliver Heaviside died on February 3 and was buried next to his parents in Devon's Paignton cemetery.

While he had stopped publishing in technical journals years before, several scientific papers were found in his home after his death (he had been using them for insulation).  Almost all of the scientific recognition he received was posthumous and his work has revolutionized modern communication.  Oliver Heaviside would likely be better known if many of his achievements had not been stolen by other scientists and the hostility he managed to generate during his lifetime.

Would the numerous honours he eventually received have meant anything to a man who lived as a hermit for most of his life?   You be the judge.

 

When Laws Solve Problems that Do Not Exist: Transgender Rights in the Nation’s Schools

As a new article published in the High School Journal points out, legislative actions like HB2 and the discriminatory policy in Gloucester County, Virginia have powerful effects which reach far beyond those who are specifically targeted by their verbiage. These policies send a message to all students that we live in a society that has no problem singling out a group of people and distinguishing them as a lower caste. This is the type of society that the Civil Rights Movement has been working to break down. In every recent instance of discriminatory legislation passed against the LGBT community, special interest groups have cited reports and studies that show the issues legislatures are trying to solve are at best misguided, and at worst fabricated for political gain.

For the abstract

Immigrant Who Died in Psychiatric Hospital Now Honoured As Master Artist

When Martin Ramirez died in 1963 at the age of 68, he had spent most of his adult life in California psychiatric hospitals.   Now, a new retrospective at the Institute of Contemporary Art Los Angeles is helping to ensure this self-taught artist  receives the recognition he deserves.

Born in Mexico in 1895, acute poverty forced him to leave his pregnant wife and three children in 1925 to find work in the United States.  After the economic crash, he lost his job and stayed in California as a homeless vagrant.   For reasons that are still unclear, he had severed all ties with his family in Mexico and, in 1931, was eventually picked up by police.  After a brief psychiatric consultation conducted entirely in English (which he did not speak), Ramirez was diagnosed as schizophrenic and committed to the California mental health system where he remained for the rest of his life.  

According to Victor Espinosa, author of the book, “Martín Ramírez: Framing His Life and Art, little is known about what happened during that initial assessment except that he kept saying, "Me no loco” (“I am not crazy”).   Still, the schizophrenia diagnosis was impossible to defend against.  “With this kind of diagnosis, it’s impossible to leave the institution,” Espinosa said in a recent interview. “Ramírez didn’t have anyone on his side to question the diagnosis, to do anything.”   He continues to question whether Martin was schizophrenic at all or if he was simply a victim of the often impersonal psychiatric hospital system and hospital staff who failed to take the time to understand him.

After first being held in the  Stockton State Hospital in Stockton, California, Martin was later transferred to another state hospital near Sacramento.   It was in these hospitals that he taught himself to draw though he had no access to canvas or other art tools.   Instead he used crayons, brown paper bags, and whatever other spare paper he could salvage.   He often glued these smaller pieces of paper together using a paste made from saliva and potatoes.   Inspired by memories of his native Mexico, Ramirez created thousands of drawings of religious images (especially Madonnas), cowboys, and fields of concentric lines that appear to resemble fields and other decorative patterns.   Of these drawings, only 500 are believed to have survived.

Martin Ramirez' art might have gone completely unnoticed had it not been discovered by a visiting professor who studied art made by psychiatric patients.  After becoming interested in the drawings, Tarmo Pasto helped organize the first formal art show featuring Ramirez' art at  the E.B. Crocker Art Gallery in Sacramento, California, in 1952.  Still, the show simply presented the art as the work of an anonymous psychiatric patient and Martin largely remained unknown until well after his death.

In recent years, there has been a renewed fascination with what Martin Ramirez managed to achieve during his lifetime.   It was only after Victor Espinosa published his book in 2000 that Martin Ramirez' family first became aware of his growing reputation as an artist.   A subsequent lawsuit gave Ramirez' twenty grandchildren control over his artwork though the ownership of many of the pieces he created during his lifetime remain in dispute.  Despite the legal battles, many of Ramirez' major works are now in museums such as the Guggenheim Museum and the Museum of Modern Art in New York city.  In 2007, the American Folk Art Museum in New York city held the first major retrospective dedicated to Ramirez in more than 20 years 

According to Frank Maresca, co-owner of the Ricco/Maresca Gallery in New York which now represents the estate for Ramirez’s 20 grandchildren, the price for Martin Ramirez' artwork is currently in the $500,000 range and the price may increase as more galleries begin showing work by Latinx artists.   Ironically, none of the major museums in Mexico have  any of his artwork in their collections and no immediate plans to purchase any either.     

In the meantime, Martin Ramirez has recently been featured in a set of five commemorative stamps issued by the U.S. Postal Service in 2015.   No other Mexican artist aside from Frida Kahlo has ever been honoured this way.   

Doctor Katskee's Final Experiment

On the evening of November 25, 1936, Dr. Edwin Katskee gave himself a large injection of cocaine and calmly recorded his observations as the narcotic took effect.    While he likely knew that death was imminent, he made no apparent attempt to get help or administer the antidote he had close at hand.   Instead, he continued to write notes on the wall of his Omaha,Nebraska office though, as he slowly lost consciousness, the handwritten notes became increasingly difficult to read.  

Describing what he had done as a "scientific experiment with death,"  the 34-year-old Katskee included the following statement:  "Narcotic addiction will be a major problem in the U.S. in the near future.   But I maintain that we MDs should know more about than the addicts themselves."    He also added a series of instructions for emergency resuscitation including the need for artificial respiration and an oxygen tank as the victim was transported to the nearest hospital.  But nobody was there to rescue him at the end.   Instead, his body was discovered by his father the following morning as he came to investigate why his son had failed to return home the previous evening.   All that remained was one final question:  Had he intended to commit suicide and, if so, why?

Born and raised in Nebraska, Edwin Katskee had always been an exceptional student.   Along with being a member of the Zeta Beta Tau fraternity, he went on to graduate from the University of Nebraska medical school in 1924.   He interned at King's County hospital in Brooklyn where he apparently faced considerable harassment due to his Jewish background though he managed to earn a specialization in proctology and returned to open a Lincoln, Nebraska medical practice in 1927.  He also married Bernice Diamond and they would eventually have two children together.  In the years that followed. Edwin stayed fairly active as a physician-researcher, including presenting at a number of professional conferences and becoming an amateur photographer.  Aside from being robbed at gunpoint in 1931, his life appeared fairly uneventful and he and Bernice became prominent figures in Lincoln society.

But by 1936, the year of his death, Dr. Katskee's life began to fall apart.   In August of that year, Bernice filed for divorce citing "extreme cruelty" and asking for custody of their two young children.   Not long afterward, Edwin experienced a series of health crises, including  gall bladder surgery and spending time in a sanitarium.  Just two months later, Edwin's uncle, Arthur Katskee committed suicide following a nervous breakdown.

At the beginning of November, Edwin  moved to Omaha and opened an office there closer to his parents' home.   Bernice stayed in Lincoln with their two children but, by all accounts, Edwin remained in good spirits despite the end of his marriage.  Certainly nobody had any idea of what was about to happen.   On November 25,  just hours before his death, Dr. Katsbee came down to the lobby of his office building to speak with the bellboy, Jerry Thomas.  The bellboy later told police that the doctor appeared nervous and exited.   Wearing what was apparently a cuff for checking blood pressure around his arm, Katsbee sent Thomas to a nearby pharmacy with a prescription he had prepared.   It was for a sizable dose of narcotics (which could still be legally obtained at the time with a doctor's note).   He also gave the bellboy a book to be returned to the local library.

After coming back from the pharmacy, Thomas gave Katsbee the order and didn't see him again until 11:30 pm that same evening.   That was when Katsbee called him into his office and showed him the various messages scrawled on the wall.    Thomas was even more startled when Katsbee told him not to let anyone erase what he had written as it was part of his research.   He then had Thomas test his reflexes by hitting both knees with a book.   After being satisfied that his reflexes were normal, he sent the bellboy back to his desk.    Not long afterward, he called Thomas into his office again and asked him to tighten the rubber band around his arm.    That would be the last time anyone saw him alive. 

While Edwin Katskee hadn't given any indication of what he was planning, the notes scrawled on his office walls provided a running account of what he was experiencing as he slipped into unconsciousness.   Whatever his real motivation, he seemed determined to save his final thoughts for posterity.   One note on the wall read "Results will be recorded in an RX book (which was never found afterward).  Have a university or any medical college give you an opinion of my findings.  They better be good because I'm not going to repeat the experiment.  I will not be able to observe vomiting, someone else do that.  I drank one can of beer previous to medication."   Among the symptoms he carefully described were:  "1. Speech and only tongue movable -  Can't understand that movable tongue and no speech.  Voice O.K.;  2.  Staggering gait preceding paralysis;  3. Paralysis..."    This paralysis apparently passed after a time as he was able to continue his description of his symptoms.    The note on the wall went on to say:  "Eyes mildly dilated.  Vision excellent.  Partial recovery.  Called help.  Convulsions decreased when brain functioned on thoughts.  Deeper the thinking, less the paralysis and convulsions."   

 In what may have been his final note, he wrote "All memory gone.  Phone numbers and addresses not clear that come.  They must be there originally and are driven up by this super sensation."   He also added what was likely a final editorial on his experiment:   "Advise all inquisitive MDs to lay off this stuff."  When his father found Katsbee's body the following morning, the rubber tube was still on his arm though the rest of the blood pressure equipment was in another room.   Police found cocaine and morphine in containers near his body and they also found puncture marks suggesting Katskee had injected the morphine as well.   There were also signs that he had staggered around the room during the course of his convulsions and, possibly, had been trying to get help despite being disoriented.

There was still some legal wrangling over whether Dr. Katskee had intended to commit suicide or not.   Though he had written "Narcotic poisoning, not a suicide" in bold letters on his office wall, people aware of the recent turmoil in the doctor's life were not so certain.  No formal inquest was ever held and the coroner simply ruled that Edwin Katskee had taken his own life. He justified this conclusion stating that, "As a medical man, he knew an overdose of the narcotic would prove fatal."  

While family members disputed the suicide explanation and suggested it had simply been an experiment  gone wrong, no real evidence to prove this ever surfaced.   Certainly none of the experimental notes he referred to in his final statement ever turned up afterward.  In what was perhaps the ultimate irony, his scribbled notes about his death were deemed to be useless from a scientific perspective and Edwin Katskee faded into obscurity.   Though his final description of what he was experiencing as he died is probably unique in the annals of medicine, the mystery surrounding his death would remain his final accomplishment. 

 

 

 

After Little Albert (Part 1)

For all the controversy surrounding John Broadus Watson and his famous Little Albert study,  it was what was happening behind the scenes at the time that ultimately cost him his position at John Hopkins University.   During the winter of 1919-1920, all of the work that he did with eleven-month Little Albert was conducted with the help of his bright young graduate student, Rosalie Rayner.   Their collaboration continued for months and he spent more and more time away from home and in his assistant's company.  Whatever suspicions that Watson's wife had of what was happening between her husband and Rayner seemed confirmed when she found a passionate note in his coat pocket.  The note was from Rosalie Rayner to her husband and Mary Watson had good cause to question her husband's fidelity (he had strayed before, after all).

Knowing that she needed more evidence, Mary took advantage of a dinner invitation at the home of Rosalie's parents to investigate further.  After pretending that she had a headache and needed to lie down for a while, she sneaked into Rosalie's bedroom and found love letters that John Watson had written to Rosalie.  The letters were  graphic enough to give her all the proof that she needed.   Mary Watson confronted her husband and threatening to ruin his career if he didn't end his relationship with Rosalie immediately.  When he refused, she decided on a very public divorce.

Not only did the divorce proceedings become front-page news in Baltimore, but copies of the love letters were sent to the president of the university, Frank Goodnow (whether the letters were sent by Mary herself or her brother isn't known).   Even today, an affair between a faculty member and a graduate student is considered improper but back then it was unforgivable.  Goodnow demanded his resignation and  John Watson, up to then a rising light in psychology, would never work as an academic again.   Once his divorce from Mary was finalized, John and Rosalie were married in 1921 and they would eventually have two sons together. 

Although his academic career was over, John Broadus Watson was still very much a psychologist and the behaviourist school that he had spearheaded was just beginning to gain force.  Bitter over the lack of support from the university and his fellow psychologists, John and Rosalie moved to New York City where he used the contacts developed by fellow psychologist E.B. Titchener to become resident psychologist for the J. Walter Thompson advertising agency.   Still one of the largest advertising agencies in the United States,  the Thompson Agency (now known as JWT) provided Watson with an opportunity to merge psychology and advertising to create new and innovative new campaigns to sell a wide variety of products.  During his time with the agency, Watson developed some of the most successful campaigns in the agency's history including ads for Pond's Cold Creams (he obtained testimonials from the Queens of Spain and Romania praising the product), Johnson and Johnson baby powder, and Maxwell House instant coffee.   Watson is now considered to be one of the pioneers of modern advertising and continued to draw an enormous salary even at the height of the Depression.  He and Rosalie settled down on a large hobby farm in Connecticut and he devoted his time puttering on the farm when he wasn't working in New York.

Along with his extremely lucrative advertising work, John Watson also became an author of popular books and magazine articles on psychology.  Most of his books and articles focused on behaviourism, particularly in using behavioural principles to raise children.  Using the slogan of "not more babies but better brought up babies",   he also became famous (or infamous depending on your perspective) for his outspoke support of nurture over nature in child-rearing.   In his classic book, Behaviorism, he provided his famous "Twelve Infants" quotation:

Give me a dozen healthy infants, well-formed, and my own specified world to bring them up in and I'll guarantee to take any one at random and train him to become any type of specialist I might select – doctor, lawyer, artist, merchant-chief and, yes, even beggar-man and thief, regardless of his talents, penchants, tendencies, abilities, vocations, and race of his ancestors. I am going beyond my facts and I admit it, but so have the advocates of the contrary and they have been doing it for many thousands of years.

The last sentence is often omitted from the quote giving Watson a more radical reputation as a behaviourist than he likely deserves.   Still, his theories about child development must have seemed radical enough at the time.  Though politically conservative, he considered behaviourism to be the ideal way to mold a child's personality and to counteract the dominant hereditarian views of the time (racial theories inspired by Francis Galton and other eugenics writers were still very much in favour).  In his 1928 book, Psychological Care of Infant and Child (co-written with Rosalie Rayner),  Watson insisted that children be treated as young adults and that mothers refrain from providing too much love and affection to their children.   Since society as a whole didn't provide adults with unconditional love and support, parents needed to prepare children for their place in society by not giving them unrealistic expectations.  He also advised against letting children sit on their parents' lap or otherwise encouraging emotional dependence.   The book became extremely popular and American parents regarded it as the de facto reference manual for child-rearing for decades afterward.

By all accounts, he was a stern and unemotional father who had no difficulty putting his own behaviourist theories of upbringing into practice.  His two children by his first wife included a daughter, Polly and a son, John, who were both plagued with lifelong emotional and medical issues.    Whether that was due to Watson's unemotional parenting or the scandalous breakup of his marriage to Mary seems open to question.  

Continue to Part 2.

 

Weight Loss, Dating, and Relationships

It's hardly a surprise that people who are obese face considerable discrimination.  

Whether seeking a new job, being in social situations, or applying for health coverage, the bias against overweight men and women can be hard to overcome.   Research into weight bias has found a consistent tendency to view overweight people as being "lazier", less motivated, and more to blame for their weight compared to thinner individuals.  This is especially true when obesity is regarded as something that can be easily controlled through willpower and making the "right" health decisions.  As a result, this kind of bias often leads to more negative outcomes for many obese people, including lower employment rates, lower salaries, and lower educational achievement than their less-overweight counterparts.

But weight bias plays the strongest role in interpersonal relationships across the lifespan.   Studies have found that even preschoolers are more likely to choose thin or average-size children to play with rather than overweight ones.  As we grow and mature, overweight individuals often find themselves being at a disadvantage in dating and forming long-term relationships.   In relationship surveys looking at college-age participants, overweight individuals are often less likely to be chosen as sexual partners when compared with those who are thinner or who even have other disabilities.   In qualitative studies of middle-aged overweight individuals, the most upsetting comments about obesity tends to come from friends (followed closely by comments from parents, strangers, and spouses).   

Sadly enough, this kind of weight bias also seems to extend to people who are formerly obese.  One 2003 study into ratings of attractiveness showed that thin targets who are described as formerly obese tend to be rated as less attractive than targets for whom no weight history was provided.   Other researchers looking at mate choices in undergraduates found that thin males are more likely to distance themselves from formerly obese individuals than overweight males.  This appears to stem from the belief that the weight loss is only temporary and, as a result, leads to formerly obese people being regarded as less than ideal relationship choices.

To read more, check out my new Psychology Today blog post.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Is Childhood Abuse Linked to Suicide?

Relationships of some types of childhood maltreatment and suicidal behavior remain controversial and inconclusive. A new meta-analysis published in the Journal of Affective Disorder examines this relationship using studies found through Medline, Embase, PsycINFO and Cochrane library.  The results were synthesized in meta-analyses with results showing that childhood maltreatment was associated positively with suicidal behavior in the total population and maltreatment subgroups. Emotional abuse had the strongest effect (OR = 2.33, SMD =0.660, P<0.001). Subgroup analyses showed that the effects of childhood abuse (OR =1.55, SMD =0.523) and neglect (OR =1.25, SMD =0.31) were significant. According to the analysis of dichotomous outcomes, childhood maltreatment was associated positively with suicidal behavior in men and women (women: OR =4.84, P<0.001; men: OR =1.03, P<0.001). Among populations, childhood maltreatment had the strongest effect on suicidal behavior in the general population (OR =3.78, P<0.001). However, the analysis of continuous outcomes showed that the effect was strongest in patients with chronic schizophrenia (SMD =0.89, P<0.001). In addition, childhood maltreatment was associated positively with suicide attempt (OR =1.11, SMD =0.48, P<0.001), but not with suicidal ideation. While some subgroup samples were not sufficiently large, results suggest that childhood maltreatment increases the risk of suicidal behavior. Emotional abuse had the strongest effect among the five types of maltreatment. The risk of suicidal behavior is higher in the general population, women, and individuals with chronic schizophrenia who have histories of childhood maltreatment. (PsycINFO Database Record (c) 2017 APA, all rights reserved)

For the abstract

Beware of Satanic Rosaries, Warns Filipino Exorcist

 A prominent exorcist is warning about rosaries being given out by "Illuminati satanists" across the Philippines.   Diocese of Novaliches Office of Exorcism (Libera Nox) chief exorcist  Ambrosio Nonati Legaspi says that these rosaries often contain hidden symbols that would cause faithful Catholics to experience nightmares and bad luck.    These symbols include a snake wrapped around the cross, pentagrams and a sun with rays,  all of which are associated with the Illuminati and other hidden cults believed to be linked to satanism.  

"Be careful as the rosaries you might be using could actually be infested or cursed,"  Legaspi said in an interview with Radio Veritas.  “These were made not only to be simply given away but to deceive Catholics…so that evil spirits will haunt them.”   Often undetectable to the untrained eye, the rosaries containing these symbols are often given away as gifts and Catholics are warned to be careful when receiving new religious items.  

Catholics who receive these items are warned that a simple blessing or sprinkling with holy water will not be enough to ward off evil spirits.   Anyone reporting paranormal experiences are warned to seek out a trained exorcist.  "Not just a blessing, these items should be exorcised,”  Legaspi said.  “Not just an ordinary blessing where water is just sprinkled–as most priests commonly do–but to use the Catholic ritual…that would frighten the demon away.”

Legaspi and other exorcists also warn that the iconography associated with these rosaries are spreading across the globe and that Masonic medals are also part of the conspiracy.

For more information

The Cannibal Conundrum

It was one of the great survival stories of the 19th century.  That it would be quickly overshadowed by lurid claims of cannibalism also demonstrated how quickly public opinion could be turned by the power of the press.

When Lieutenant Adolphus Greely was given command of the Lady Franklin Bay Expedition in 1881, nobody had any real idea of the ordeal that would follow for him and his crew.   The purpose of the expedition was daring enough:  to mark the first International Polar Year by taking a ship to Lady Franklin Bay in the Canadian Arctic.  Once there, they were to establish a meteorological observation post and collect valuable scientific data.  Along with Greely, the expedition included 21 officers and crew as well as astronomer Edward Israel and photographer George Rice.   They would later pick up two more crew members along the way.  

That almost none of the people on the expedition, including Greely himself, had any previous Arctic experience did little to counter optimism about what they were setting out to do.  Still, infighting among various government departments, not to mention a very public embezzlement scandal and  the active opposition of then-Secretary of War Robert Todd Lincoln, meant problems in outfitting and launching.    It also meant that Greely and his crew were not fully prepared for how severe the Arctic weather would become.  

While the ship arrived at Lady Franklin Bay on August 11, 1881 on schedule, and deposited Greely's expedition to begin collecting meteorological and magnetic data, the expedition members didn't realize that the summer weather they were enjoying was uncharacteristically warm for that climate.   Not only would the changing weather conditions catch them completely off guard, but it also meant that the supply ships they were expecting would have a much harder time reaching them.  There was also considerable tension among the various members of the expedition.   Shortly after their arrival, Greely relieved his second-in-command, Frederick Kislingbury, and would later place the expedition's doctor under arrest for refusing to obey orders.  

By 1883, the expedition was in desperate shape due to the failure of two relief expeditions to reach their remote location.   As a desperation move, Greely ordered his crew to head south in small boats to reach an emergency supply cache that had been left by one of the ships.   Unfortunately, the cache only provided forty days of food and the weather became too severe to go any further south.   As a result, the surviving men were obliged to set up a makeshift camp at Cape Sabine and wait for rescue.   Due to the brutal weather and problems with sea navigation, it wasn't until July 22, 1884 that a formal relief expedition finally managed to reach Cape Sabine.   By that time, only seven of the original twenty-five expedition members had survived.   The others had succumbed to starvation and hypothermia.

While Greely received much of the blame for the tragedy at first, attention quickly shifted to the the often inept rescue efforts of the U.S. government and he was quickly vindicated.   After recovering enough to travel home, Adolphus Greely and his fellow survivors returned to the United States where they received a hero's welcome.  Thousands of spectators attended the parade that was held in their honour and all of the survivors received military promotions (Greely reportedly refused the one he was offered).   Along with the valuable scientific data they had managed to collect and return with them, they also had a harrowing tale of survival to tell, including stories of subsisting on boot soles, charred sealskin, and whatever lichen they managed to scrape up.   One man had even been shot on Greely's order for stealing food.

But more gruesome details would soon emerge.  After the body of Lieutenant Frederick Kislingbury was returned to his native city of Rochester, New York, it was buried with full military honours.  Along with the other bodies that had been returned, a directive from the Department of War stipulated that their coffins should remain sealed due to concerns about possible infection.   Two days after Kislingbury's interment, a story in the New York Times was published which alleged  that the surviving members of the Greely expedition had stayed alive by eating the bodies of their dead crew members.  

Even though Greely and the other survivors emphatically denied the allegations,  the Rochester Post-Express convinced Frederick Kislingbury's family to give permission to have the dead explorer's body exhumed. On August 14, 1884, just four days after it had been buried, the coffin was opened so the body could be examined.   A reporter was on hand along with several of Frederick Kislingbury's brothers and, according to the newspaper story that was later written, "Slowly, reverentially, the blanket was removed and then there was a suppressed cry of horror from the lips of those present!  Half body, half skeleton, the remains lay outstretched in all their ghastly terror."  

Not only had the skin been removed from the body from the neck down, but there was almost no fleshy parts remaining on the arms or legs.  Medical doctors who examined the body concluded in a written statement that the damage was consistent with the flesh being cut away by a sharp instrument, something that members of the rescue party had reported seeing in some of the other corpses as well.    Though they ruled out any possibility of murder, the evidence for cannibalism seemed plain enough.  Newspaper across the country carried the story and also accused officials at the Department of War of a cover-up to protect Greely and the others.     

Stories about people being driven to cannibalism to survive starvation were hardly unheard of, especially given the notoriety surrounding the Donner party tragedy and the conviction of Alferd Packer just a decade earlier.  Still, Adolphus Greely found himself in an awkward position of defending himself from rumours of being a cannibal even as he continued to recover from his ordeal.    He denied any knowledge of anyone eating dead bodies and insisted that he was largely comatose in the days leading up to his rescue.    To head off the growing scandal, government officials insisted that the flesh had been removed from the bodies to be used as bait in catching fish and shrimp, something that later historians disputed.   

In any event, the cannibal rumours would haunt Greely and the others for years afterwards and add a tragic note to what was otherwise  an amazing survival story.   As for Adolphus Greely himself, he went on to have a long and successful military career, including commanding emergency relief following the San Francisco earthquake of 1906.   Just before his death in 1935 at the age of 91, he was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor, one of only two ever to be awarded for non-combat service.   Visitors to Pim Island can still find the memorial plaque dedicated to the Greely expedition and remnants of the Cape Sabine camp can still be found nearby.   Though largely forgotten today, it still represents a powerful example of survival against impossible odds.