I Am A Grassroots Skeptic: Sally Wherry

Sally Wherry is a Specialist Nurse in Gloucestershire, UK. She is co-organiser for the Cheltenham Skeptics in the Pub.

I live in an area where ley lines, alternative medicine and vaccine scares are all taken terribly seriously. Until two years ago, I didn’t know anything about skepticism, and my colleagues still refer to SitP as my cynics’ group.

Nearly a year ago, I saw a shout-out on Twitter from one of my friends who I met at Birmingham Skeptics in the Pub. He let me know that some locals were looking at setting up a SitP in Cheltenham so I went along to see if we could, because Birmingham is a long drive on a weeknight. There I met up with four others, who became the founding members of Cheltenham Skeptics. We asked a local speaker and found a venue, which was surprisingly hard. Who knew that Cheltenham had such a thriving skittle league?

Being in Cheltenham, we’re very aware of the different festivals held there — Science, Literature, Music and others. The Science Festival seemed an ideal opportunity to run some really good events, with some amazing speakers who would just happen to be in town. Will, one of the other co-organisers, contacted the festival and got a really positive response. It took some time, but once their line-up was finalised, we met with them and went through available speakers, planning an event each day of the festival, and two on the Saturday. Then we were advertising, twittering like mad, arranging equipment and booking the venue.

The week of the festival was hard work. Both Will and I work full time and the other helpers for Cheltenham Skeptics — Chris, Abby and Mike — were fabulous at supporting us. Our speakers were all friendly and enthused, and the majority of the equipment was there when we needed it (if only just in some cases). We had the Festival of the Spoken Nerd, Ray Tallis, Jim Al-Khalili, Helen Keen, Dean Burnett and Harry Witchel, all of whom were fabulous. We had the launch of the new Cheltenham Skeptics’ T-shirt, courtesy of Neil.

We’re already talking about next year, and the Literary festival. All very exciting and I hope Cheltenham Skeptics in the Pub goes from strength to strength.

I Am A Grassroots Skeptic: Sharon and Matt Madison

Sharon and Matt Madison are the husband-and-wife team who recently created the blog Skepticism and Ethics, to provide a place to discuss the intersection of these two widely debated topics. To celebrate the launch of their site, they held an essay contest. You can read the winning entries, including a submission from Grassroots Skeptics founder K.O. Myers, at http://www.skepticismandethics.com/

Your eyes are probably rolling right now. Skepticism and ethics? WTF do they have to do with each other? After all, skepticism is about evaluating claims about the way things are. It’s about promoting science and the scientific method as the most reliable way of learning about nature and the universe. It’s about facts and evidence, critical thinking and reason.

Ethics, on the other hand, is about beliefs, values, and morals – right and wrong, good and evil. These are judgments that people make, and science can’t tell us what those judgments should be. It’s about pointless navel-gazing and endless arguments over “accommodation” vs. “confrontation,” or whether or not we should be “dickish.” Right?

No. Or at least, not completely.

We call ourselves skeptics, but there are people out there – moon-hoaxers, anti-vaxxers, conspiracy theorists – who also call themselves skeptics. What distinguishes our brand of skepticism from theirs is the value we place on evidence and the belief we have in scientific inquiry for getting at the truth. Like it or not, those are our ethics. As skeptics, our other beliefs should be subject to change because our belief in science as a method trumps them.

But as skeptics, we also know how hard it is to change people’s beliefs, including our own. We’re humans, and our brains don’t come pre-wired for skepticism. We like certainty. We like simple, black-and-white answers. We have heroes who can do no wrong fighting villains who can do no right. It’s us, the “good guys,” against them, the “bad guys.” No one is immune to these cognitive biases, not even our most famous skeptics.

At the risk of sounding like Captain Conundrum: believing in skepticism requires skepticism of our beliefs. That’s why we created Skepticism and Ethics – as a place for skeptics to share, discuss, and critically examine what we do, and how and why we do it. Skeptics have no ethical code handed down from on high, so it’s up to us to determine what we think it should be, and to help each other in upholding our skeptical ideals. We won’t have black-and-white answers; we won’t always agree on what’s right. But skeptics should be used to that.

Check out the articles and provide your comments. If you would like to contribute an article or essay, contact us at admin@skepticismandethics.com. Help us get the conversation going!

 

I Am A Grassroots Skeptic: Janis Bennion

Janis Bennion is a neuroscientist at the University of Manchester in the UK.  She is co-organiser of Greater Manchester Skeptics and Ladies Who Do Skepticism, takes part in High School and College level science outreach, and co-hosts the Just Skeptics podcast.

Just over a year ago, I came out of the laboratory I work in, sat down at my computer and googled “skeptics in the pub.” A few minutes earlier I had been going about my typical lab work whilst listening to The Skeptic’s Guide to the Universe. Now, here I was, confronted with a “meet-up” for the soon-to-be Greater Manchester Skeptics. I’m not going to pretend it was that simple. I was listening to the SGU for a reason; it had been recommended to me by someone who knew how much pseudoscience irks me. Basically, like most skeptics, I was a “skeptic” long before I had ever even heard of “skepticism.” For the longest time I thought there was another term for what I was, and that was “awkward” or “a pain in the arse.” And I truly was.

From that inaugural meeting of eight, we soon went to at least two meetings a month, with speakers, socials and quizzes. We also began popping over to the events of the Merseyside Skeptics Society just an hour away. The “Merseyskeptic”s and our own group shared many ideals, including the creation of a local society, rather than solely a Skeptics in the Pub. We felt that people with so much in common, despite differences in background, deserved a community in which to thrive and enjoy the support of like-minded individuals.

After a while, we naturally decided we’d enjoy working together on something, and that “something” should extend beyond the current reach of our groups, whilst bringing something new to our roots in the North West of England. We also wanted to support the growing skeptical community which, after all, had already given us so much: information, inspiration, friends, the list goes on. And so QED was born. QED: Question. Explore. Discover. will be a two-day science and skepticism event taking place in Manchester (UK), 5-6th February 2011. (Which, quite scarily, happens to be next month.)

We in the UK are lucky enough to already have some fantastic skeptical events over here: Skeptics in the Pub groups dotted up and down the country, a handful of cafe-style meets, Skeptics on the Fringe during the whole month of August in Edinburgh, and of course TAM London. The intention of QED has never been to compete with any of these. We want to be part of the growing movement, and support the societies, groups, and individuals that form the community.

From its roots as an event organised by a group of people involved in local skepticism in their spare time, to the set-up of the meeting and the breakout room for interaction and workshops, QED will be a grassroots event from top to toe, and very much a great shindig of a weekend.

By the time we’re getting ready for the evening entertainment on Day One at QED, we’ll have gone from Bruce Hood, author of Supersense through to Steve Novella of that very podcast that kicked all this off for me, the SGU. We’ll have seen some really excellent talks on atheism, the media, and ghost investigations.

Day Two will kick off with the 10:23 Challenge, a follow-up to the protest staged by the 10:23 campaign in the UK in 2010, in which demonstrators took to the streets to voice their concern at the sales of homeopathic pills in leading pharmacy Boots, and the support for such “remedies” on the UK National Health Service. This year, QED will be the focal point for the exciting culmination of this 2011’s international challenge, with the largest ever single demonstration against homeopathy.

Whilst recovering from the challenge, we’ll be enjoying talks ranging from the Big Bang to evolution, and even a bit of juggling with maths. On both days we’ll also have a concurrent breakout room, with panels on topics such as outreach, the submission-based The Pod Delusion Live, the satirical skeptical panel show InKredulous, plus workshops on starting your own Skeptics in the Pub group, and skeptical activism in the form of The Nightingale Collaboration.

Throw in a Saturday night of free entertainment including Robin Ince and Matt Parker, The Stand-Up Mathematician, and last but not least, the whole weekend being hosted by the wonderful and scarily talented George Hrab, and I think you can’t really ask for a lot more.

That meeting I attended in Manchester turned out to be the first in a skepticism-packed year. While it’s hard trying to find a good balance between work and my skeptical activities, it’s been well worth it. I’m really glad to have been a part of organising Greater Manchester Skeptics events and QED. If the people who come along to GMS and MSS events are anything to go by, QED is going to be an absolute blast. The support from all those skeptical groups, up and down the UK, or even much further afield, exchanging information, ideas, and growing friendships over the distances, really brings out the joy and fun in Questioning, Exploring, and Discovering.

p.s. I’m still that same pain in the arse.

www.qedcon.org

www.twitter.com/@qedcon or search #QEDcon

I Am A Grassroots Skeptic: Nicole Gugliucci

I didn’t know what a “skeptic” was just a few years ago, even though I was slowly morphing into one. I came from a childhood full of ghost stories, and I still wished to see a UFO (but not too close; I didn’t want to get abducted or anything). These interests waned as my fascination with science grew. While in grad school, working to become a professional scientist, I stumbled upon this community that advocated science, that still loved ghost stories but investigated them with science, and stood up against charlatans in the name of consumer protection. My early fascination with and exposure to science certainly helped paved the way.

I’ve found a lot of support among the skeptic community for a really cool endeavor, called Dark Skies, Bright Kids. DSBK is an astronomy outreach group, led by Kelsey Johnson of the University of Virginia, that brings hands-on science to rural elementary schools in Albemarle County. I’m one of many volunteers who enjoy the chance to interact with bright, excited kids, and relish the opportunity to explain astronomical concepts in an engaging way, complete with demos, experiments, and explosions. Science is fun, science is accessible, and this is the message we bring.

DSBK is different from other one-off outreach presentations that I’ve done. We meet with the same group of about 15 kids every week for a semester, fostering relationships and becoming mentors. I seriously look forward to spending time with my new friends, sharing science and encouraging their explorations, and I do miss them when the semester ends. When the weather cooperates, the kids come back with their families for nighttime observing under some of the darkest skies on the East Coast.

Family Observing

We would love to extend DSBK to the furthest reaches possible. We have the ideas and the drive, but we’re limited by time and manpower. At the moment, we can handle only one school per semester, though there are rumblings of getting a batch of new volunteers and adding a second. However, we now have a book, Snapshots of the Universe, that can travel to places we can’t go. Laura Jackson, DSBK volunteer, created a series of astronomy-themed artwork with English and Spanish labels. Joleen Carlberg, another volunteer, headed the effort to write text for a book containing the artwork, which was translated into Spanish and laid out in book format by other volunteers.

Snapshots of the Universe Preview

The book is undergoing final edits, and we want to print it and give it to every public school third-grade classroom in Virginia. Though we plan to distribute the book as a free .pdf as well, it was a sobering realization for us that as many as half of our kids don’t have Internet access at home. We don’t want any child left out from the wonders of astronomy. This endeavor will take money, and we’ve applied for a Pepsi Refresh Grant to fund it. We need your help! Sign up on the site, then vote once a day, every day, to make this project come to life.

Astronomy is often touted as a “gateway” science. No doubt it was for me, as I gazed at the Moon in the light-polluted New York skies through my little red telescope. Maybe we’ll inspire another future scientist from our group. Hopefully all of these kids will grow up with the confidence that they can understand science and appreciate it throughout their lives. Maybe we’re growing little skeptics that will ask “How?” “Why?” and “Show me.”

I Am A Grassroots Skeptic: Heidi Anderson

Heidi Anderson is the development coordinator for a domestic violence/sexual assault services agency in Spartanburg, South Carolina. She’s written about raising young critical thinkers for Skeptical Inquirer, and she blogs about skepticism, parenting, sexuality, and body image at Fat One In The Middle. She’s here to mark the launch of SheThought.com, a new site celebrating the contributions of women to science and critical thinking.

UPDATED to add links to two Skepchick essays that I neglected to include in the original post. Thanks to Heidi for the correction.

I have been an activist since I was a child, and always sought fairness and inclusivity for my peers. My entire career in the domestic violence, sexual assault, and gay rights fields has been based on being an advocate for those who need it. Sadly, where I live, these were not always seen as positive traits. I am often seen as combative, for I am not quiet, not subtle, and not shy. When it comes to polite society in the South, I am most certainly NOT feminine.

When I first started thinking of myself as a critical thinker, I looked around the community and saw wonderful, intelligent people with so many important things to say. I also saw that most of them were (white) men. This was in complete contrast to my professional life, which was full of women. But as I thought about it, it became pretty clear that the generation that launched skepticism as a movement was born into an era of white male privilege that has only recently begun to waiver. Therefore, the movement itself still holds onto some of those values.

There was much talk about gender after TAM 7. Not only were Jennifer Oulette and Rebecca Watson the only female speakers, but keynote speaker Bill Prady and skeptic Brian Dunning made jokes that many viewed as sexist. Blogs were written, interviews were done, and many skeptical leaders got defensive when told that they just did not get it.

Then, in January of this year, a single comment on a science blog ignited a debate about the role of sexuality and gender in skepticism between the women themselves. It was a very serious issue with lots of thought put into it, despite the fact that some lame blogger tried to call it a “catfight!”

Luckily, that lame blogger spent a lot of time thinking about women in science, skepticism, and critical thinking, and how there needed to be additional outlets to highlight and foster female leadership. My goal with SheThought.com is not to replace or compete with any other groups, but just to add another place to discuss, promote, encourage, and celebrate women in science, skepticism, and critical thinking.

I Am a Grassroots Skeptic: Don Riefler

Don Riefler is a co-founder of both the Purdue Skeptics Society and the Lafayette Skeptics in Lafayette, Indiana. Last year he and some friends gave a skeptical panel discussion at Gen Con Indianapolis, and it went well enough that they’re expanding the program this year.

I’m a big dork/nerd/geek; take your pick. I’ve always favored “geek.” I’ve been a member of that extra-lame category of people called “tabletop gamers” for years and years, and there’s no better place for a tabletop gamer than Gen Con. It’s like geek nirvana.

I’ve been attending with friends annually since Gen Con moved to Indianapolis in 2003. It’s always been a blast from a geeky perspective: pen-and-paper games, video games, comics, toys, anime, awesome costumes; the list goes on. Even though most of us are too busy as adults to do much gaming anymore, we still attend Gen Con and lust after dice, alpha builds of Starcraft II, and booth babes.

In 2008, unfortunately, Gen Con was infiltrated by woo.

That year I was attending with my friends Sean, Rob, and Tom. While perusing the event catalogue, we noticed that a group called the Indiana Ghost Trackers was delivering a panel titled “The Science of EVP.” We were immediately intrigued and decided it might be a hoot to go see the show. It was free, after all.

Suffice to say it wasn’t worth the price. The panelists seemed to have only a tenuous grasp of their own pseudoscience, let alone a good understanding of real science, and yet they took themselves and their investigations quite seriously. At the end, during the Q&A, we each asked a polite but pointed question: we wanted to see how they responded to direct questioning and whether or not they could justify their beliefs. They could not. As an example, when asked how they defined “theory,” given its proper scientific use, the head of the Ghost Trackers said that, to them, a “theory” was essentially anything they made up.

We resolved forthwith to plan our own skeptical panel for 2009, to counter the pseudoscience of the Indiana Ghost Trackers. Over the next 12 months, we cobbled together a panel called “Skepticism, Critical Thinking, and Pop Culture,” which covered everything from basic logical fallacies to financial scams. We hoped for maybe ten or twenty people in the audience; we ended up with more than forty. Most of them really enjoyed the panel, even though it ran long and we had to cut out a lot of material. People said they were surprised and glad to see skeptical programming at Gen Con, especially since the Indiana Ghost Trackers had run three events in 2009 instead of just the one. We had a lot of fun doing it, the audience had a lot of fun watching it, so why not do it again?

These days the convention circuit seems ripe for skepticism. There’s the huge success of Skeptrack at Dragon*Con, which (rumor has it) might have inspired official spinoffs at other conventions. There’s Skepchicon, the new annual convention in Minnesota; Skepticon; the NECSS con; the Skepticamp phenomenon; and TAM just keeps getting bigger every year.

Of course, the last few are dedicated skeptical conventions, which by their nature tend to attract only people who are already interested in the twin methods of science and critical thinking. They thus do little to offer educational outreach to the public at large. I don’t mean that as a criticism, mind you; skeptic-focused conventions are awesome in their own way, but effective outreach requires skeptics to mix with the rest of the world.

This is why events like Dragon*Con’s Skeptrack are important. Skeptrack occurs in a pop-culture milieu, a convention packed with people from all walks of life who might never have been exposed to critical thinking, but who sure would like to hear a talk about astronomy. Skeptrack can appeal not only to self-identified skeptics, but it can introduce science and critical thought to new people. That is the model we’re attempting to emulate at Gen Con.

Of course, we’re going about it in an entirely grassroots manner. Skeptrack was done from the top down, a co-op between Derek Colanduno from Skepticality and Mike Stackpole, well-known author and founder of the Phoenix Skeptics. They already had some pop-culture momentum behind them, and thus were able to organize a skeptical track almost from the get-go. They got big names interested, which pulled in all the average joes.

We, on the other hand, have to take the opposite approach. We are the average joes, and we have to build our guerilla Skeptical Symposium from the ground up. Luckily, our single panel gained us a recruit, who is helping in 2010. We also generated some interest at an event held by CFI Indy. We are none of us famous in skeptical circles; we’re simply workaday skeptics with something to say, and the guts to get up there and say it to a crowd. We have no official recognition from Gen Con, and I was, in fact, asked to change the name of our group on official documents to “Gen Con Skeptics” to something that didn’t imply we were working officially with Gen Con.

We have, rather, organized an unofficial battery of panels, presentations, and programming to populate Gen Con Indy with as much solid scientific thinking as possible. With luck, and some hard work, we hope that in years to come we may become officially recognized, and we small fries might, in the end, attract some of the big names to our little grassroots effort.

Our work thus far has shown promise. “The Skeptical Gamers” (our new name after “Gen Con Skeptics”) are hosting ten presentations at present: a streamlined version of last year’s panel, talks on everything from ancient astronauts to financial scams, and two iterations of a very important presentation on the power of vaccination. I say “very important,” because that presentation is a companion to the part I’m most excited about: our fundraiser to benefit the Indiana Immunization Coalition.

Gen Con has given us a free booth in their Family Fun Pavilion to use as a base for the dissemination of educational materials on vaccination and the collection of donations, 100% of which will go to the Indiana Immunization Coalition to be used to help fund new educational initiatives. Indiana has abysmal vaccination rates, due not to a lack of direct funds but rather to antivaccine misinformation. Our fundraiser will help the IIC counter that misinformation, and get kids the shots they need.

Of course, our work is never done. This kind of outreach requires human resources, and we can always use more of them. Want to add your presentation to our programming? Want to volunteer at our fundraising booth and help get kids vaccinated? Have a totally awesome idea I haven’t even thought of? Stop by our website at http://skepticalgamers.com to read up on more detailed information and drop me a line with the contact form. Together, we can make this a Gen Con to remember.

I Am A Grassroots Skeptic: Reed Esau Part 3

PART III – THE SKEPTICAMP COMEBACK

Previous Post: “Part I: Becoming a Grassroots Skeptic

Previous Post: “Part II: The Genesis of SkeptiCamp

Ideas are cheap. Even good ones aren’t that difficult to come by. But making good ideas succeed requires careful execution, and perhaps a bit of luck.

After the experience of the first three SkeptiCamp events, it wasn’t clear to me whether open conferences could be successfully adapted to skepticism. Were we trying to push BarCamp too far?

To try to answer that question, I hunkered down and researched the topic with the goal of understanding the key challenges facing SkeptiCamp. I discovered literature on social collaboration and the “Long Tail,” which proved useful in understanding recent developments in the skeptical community, how its members contribute and how we might grow our numbers.

The product of my efforts was a 17-page essay entitled “Raising Our Game: The Rationale to Embrace SkeptiCamp,” which takes a critical look at the prospects for the success of the open conference model in contemporary skepticism. It speaks to challenges such as quality control, and points to specific benefits that might be gained based upon the experiences of BarCamp.

Much to my relief, the essay proved a success.

The Skepticality podcast picked up on the piece and invited me to what would be my first podcast interview. Interest increased as various members of the larger skeptical community deemed open conferencing worth a try. We saw a total of seven SkeptiCamps in 2009, with Denver and Vancouver repeating (and growing in size), and new events in Atlanta, Phoenix, Columbus, Edinburgh and New York City.

2010 brings a large “Skepchicamp” in Chicago that should not be missed by those living in the region. We expect many of the cities from last year to repeat, and we hope for expansion onto a new continent, most likely Australia.

In spite of last year’s success, SkeptiCamp remains a work in progress. Overcoming the challenge of quality control looks to be within reach, ensuring that events remain substantive, especially as average skeptics become more confident about asking tough questions of speakers. However, there are other challenges that if not overcome will doom the idea and cause it to fade into obscurity.

One such challenge is in our willingness to collaborate. As solitary organizing efforts SkeptiCamps are feasible, but are not likely to be sustainable. Volunteers will remain scarce if the organizing burden falls disproportionately upon the shoulders of a few individuals. Meeting this challenge will ultimately be a joint undertaking. Though I will continue to promote SkeptiCamp, my role in its development is drawing to a close. Working out the remaining bugs will largely happen through the efforts of grassroots skeptics like yourself, hosting events of your own, experimenting with variations and sharing your experiences with others.

Rich, Crystal and I embarked on this speculative venture in open conferencing because we had an itch to scratch. Should the idea prove unsustainable and fade away, that’s unfortunate, but failure is a common price of innovation. But what if SkeptiCamp does gain a toehold and thrive? How far can it reach? Where does it fit into the future ecosystem of the skeptical movement? Those are good questions. Regardless of how it plays out, we grassroots skeptics may be able to learn from BarCamp culture to find useful ideas and worthy goals to feed our future projects. Specifically, the success of BarCamp hints that we can benefit from projects that:

  • create “glue” to bind together our other efforts
  • change our expectations of what it means to be a skeptic
  • provide a diverse range of opportunities to contribute that fit into our lives
  • promote learning and the sharing of information among ourselves
  • provide value to informal groups of skeptics
  • reach remote geographical locations and knock down language barriers
  • provide a path for the individual to grow as a skeptic, and to become better informed

Though challenges remain, there is a good chance they will be met and overcome by those who believe in the promise of open conferencing and what it can offer to skeptics. To the extent that these efforts provide value to the skeptical movement, I’m honored to have been the first one to have stumbled across the idea and given it a chance.

And that is why I am a grassroots skeptic.

I Am A Grassroots Skeptic: Reed Esau Part 2

PART II – THE GENESIS OF SKEPTICAMP

Previous Post: “Part I: Becoming a Grassroots Skeptic

Following TAM 5 in 2007, I was a newly minted grassroots skeptic. My mind raced, wondering what I’d pursue. My experiences in the tech community suggested a fruitful avenue to explore, offering ideas that could be applicable to the skeptical movement.

I recall discovering that our traditional organizations remained conservative in their vision. They might be keenly interested in the growth of skepticism, but weren’t eager to tinker with an established approach that at least maintained the status quo. In any case I was a newbie, who might possibly have good ideas, but no established credibility in their execution.

So where would it start? I had stepped up my role at the new Denver Skeptics Meetup to become an assistant organizer. It was a blank canvas upon which I could experiment. (Later I would realize that having a new group available proved fortuitous, as easy group-forming plays a huge role in building collaborative efforts, such as the one that was to come.)

I might have started a blog or podcast, both of which could have been valuable, but which were not a good match for my skills. Ultimately I arrived at a strategy of adapting a successful idea from the tech community, an open conference format called BarCamp that had seen great success since its inception in 2005.

The BarCamp approach to open conferencing focuses on tearing down the barriers to distributing knowledge within communities. The format had already demonstrated its adaptability, finding its way to other domains like photography. So I asked “why not skepticism?” Instead of tech or photography, we could feature user-driven content on topics related to science and skepticism. As portmanteaus are the custom in adapting BarCamp to other domains, “SkeptiCamp” was born. I optimistically registered the domain name as a first step.

Cowboy Skeptic Rich Ludwig (whom I’d met at TAM 5) had already joined me as an assistant organizer of the Denver Meetup, and was eager for something to do. I shared my idea, and secured my first partner in this effort. Along with Crystal Yates-White we set about planning the first SkeptiCamp event.

Did we know what we were doing? Not really.

I had no experience motivating people, nor had I never spoken before a large group. Crystal had a bit of experience in helping to organize other events, though nothing quite like this. We were newbies proceeding down an unexplored road. Reading of the experiences of BarCamps provided some insight, but only partly prepared us for what was to come.

Looking back, it was an interesting paradox. Had we been experienced organizers, we would likely never have pursued the BarCamp model. It wouldn’t have been the way we thought about events. It wouldn’t have been the way we thought of the larger rank-and-file skeptical community, as having knowledge to share to produce substantive events. We would have been stuck in the lecture model of established speakers. It may well have been our lack of experience and desire to innovate that made such a speculative venture possible.

The effort nearly fell apart at least once, where a disagreement or miscommunication led to anger among us. Somehow we got the effort back on track and held the first event in the summer of 2007, coincidentally on the same day that James Randi, P.Z. Myers and Eugenie Scott attended a user-driven science conference in California called “Science Foo Camp.”

Our first event came off fairly well with a turnout of 30+ participants — possibly 40+ if we include those who attended one of the talks at a “pre-party” the night before. Our event featured eleven talks, nearly half of which were led by women. It had a few rough spots. One of them was my own talk, which suffered from a lethal combination of lack of sleep and inadequate preparation.

But we survived. We learned much that would feed into future events, not only for us, but eventually for organizers in other cities.

Afterwards, I encouraged other skeptic groups to give it a try, but didn’t find much traction. The second event was also going to be in Colorado, in March 2008. Rich led the organization, and I played a secondary role this time, mostly as a “Speaker Wrangler,” encouraging people to speak. The event easily doubled in size to 60+ attendees, in spite of a location that was a 30 mile drive south of Denver. Mistakes were made, but so were incremental improvements. (This event saw its influence reaching into our traditional organizations. Phil Plait attended as an observer, sitting quietly in the back. He found himself enthralled by Joe Albietz’s talk, to the extent that Joe not only was a panelist at TAM 7 but played a big role in setting the JREF down a path to fighting anti-vaccination nonsense.)

Several months later, in June 2008, the first SkeptiCamp outside of Denver took place. It was a small event organized in Vancouver by BC Skeptics.

However, project fatigue had set in. Though we had solved some of the challenges in adapting BarCamp to skepticism, the wider adoption of open conferencing by the skeptical community had not yet materialized.

I was prepared to accept that the idea might fail, but I didn’t want it to fail for a stupid reason such as my inability to execute. If SkeptiCamp did fail, it would be because of a fundamental incompatibility between open conferencing and skepticism that could not be overcome. I resolved that life is too short to tolerate fumbled execution. Compelling ideas deserve to be given a fighting chance.

And so I got to work.

Next post: “The Comeback”

I Am A Grassroots Skeptic: Reed Esau

Reed Esau is an advocate of open conferencing among skeptics. He helped to launch the open skeptic conference format called “SkeptiCamp” in 2007. In this three-part post, he explains how SkeptiCamp got started, and takes us through its development to the present day.

PART I – BECOMING A GRASSROOTS SKEPTIC

This week marks my third anniversary as a grassroots skeptic.

For more than two decades I had been enthralled by the value that contemporary science-based skepticism had brought to my life. The works of Carl Sagan (among others) rescued me from wishful thought and provided me the tools required to think clearly and avoid self-delusion. It fostered a deep appreciation for how science could help me understand the world as it is, rather than how I might wish it to be.

I’d known of the skeptical movement and occasionally read a book and subscribed to its magazines. A decade back I had even attended a lecture by James Randi during one of his visits to Boulder, Colorado.

Although I identified intellectually as a skeptic, I perceived the movement as distant and inaccessible. It never crossed my mind to think that I could be part of an effort to promote skepticism. I wasn’t an academic, scientist or magician, and I doubted that I had anything to offer or a place to fit in. I didn’t possess any of the specialized domain knowledge on the topics discussed in the skeptical literature. The barriers to entry appeared to stand sufficiently high that it did not seem worth the effort to pursue. As a result, I assumed a passive role like so many of my fellow skeptics, a role I would retain for more than two decades.

Contrast this with my experience in the tech community, with its comparatively low barrier to entry. Someone who starts hacking code in his parents’ basement can grow within the community and eventually stand to make a substantive contribution. It’s a culture with a focus on learning and sharing information, with routine interaction among professionals and hobbyists, experts and amateurs, the experienced and the newbie.

In late 2006, my friend and fellow skeptic Aaron Kurland persuaded me to join him in Las Vegas for The Amazing Meeting (TAM), my first skeptic conference. As expected, the speakers were informative and entertaining, but this remained a conference in the traditional mold — a lecture-oriented event where my role as a passive skeptic went largely unchallenged by the event’s programming.

However, there was something in the air, something that would eventually challenge my passive role. At some point during the event it dawned on me that the skeptical movement was restructuring, driven by the very tools created by the tech culture.

Shortly before I’d gone to TAM, I joined a local “Meetup” group in Denver, one of the newer skeptic groups on this early social network. By the time I arrived at TAM I realized that our group wasn’t an anomaly, but rather part of a whole new branch of skepticism, a “social” branch, free of activist expectations. The tools built around the service not only made starting such a group a trivial exercise, but dramatically eased the effort of finding new members and scheduling events.

This social branch of skepticism swung into full action on the Saturday evening of TAM, with a large party thrown by Skepchick Rebecca Watson. As expected, a portion of the conversation flowed around the day’s programming and topics unrelated to skepticism. However, you didn’t have to throw a stone far to hit someone speaking passionately about their new podcast or web project. It may not have seemed like much to others, but for me it signaled the start of a new era in the skeptical movement, one where the rank-and-file skeptics were grasping larger opportunities and seeking to employ new social tools like Meetup and maturing tools like blogs and podcasts to pull skepticism out of its decline.

This was not what I expected. This was not the skepticism that I had known. This was not a skepticism that had to fight for space at the magazine rack at the bookstore. This was a skepticism where an expanding array of tools for communication and collaboration could extend our reach and tap into the knowledge and experience of our community in unprecedented ways.

Though I may not have been fully aware of it at the time, TAM 5 was where I raised my expectations of the skeptical movement and my fellow skeptics. No longer should we be content to accept that skepticism remain an intellectual backwater, but should instead look to build a popular movement that could add value to the life of anyone around the world, much as skeptics like Carl Sagan had done for so many of us.

And what blew me away was that I realized that I could contribute to this effort. I could become a grassroots skeptic.

Next post: “Part II: The Genesis of SkeptiCamp”

I Am A Grassroots Skeptic: Steve Thoms

Steve Thoms is a professional music teacher, an amateur astronomer, and an award-winning astro-photographer. He is the Editor-in-Chief of Skeptic North, the first pan-Canadian skeptical blog.

The Skeptic North blog has been a tremendous success, and I like to think of it as a spiritual (ha!) ally of the Grassroots Skeptics endeavor. We’re a group of Canadian skeptics, professionals, academics, activists, writers, and bloggers who came together in one place for the first time. We have members from many regions of Canada, and we also have a great cross-section of all strata of organized skepticism: large organizations with an international scope and reach; localized groups, and non-affiliated independent bloggers (like from my own blog, Oot and Aboot with Some Canadian Skeptic).  Skeptic North is a success for three key reasons: social networking, quality-control, and naked good fortune.

When I first joined the skeptic community and started my own blog, I spent several months looking for a cross-Canadian skeptic organization.  After all, if Australia could have such a great national organization, then surely Canada (with our similar population, culture and history) would have one too.  I came to learn that there was no Canada-wide skeptic organization, and instead saw a field dominated by localized groups (which did great work, to be sure) and independent bloggers. There was no nationwide organization, and I kept thinking, “someone should start one!”

The Genesis of Skeptic North goes back to TAM7, where most of our members (but not me) met up at a special all-Canadian get-together, organized by Desiree Schell and Scott Gavura. After the meeting, a Google group was set up, to keep the discussion going and allow us non-TAMers to engage.  I submitted the idea that we should have a one large, pan-Canadian skeptic blog, something that has never been tried and was long overdue.  Once a number of us had agreed that a group blog would be a great project, we wanted to make sure that we did it right; we wanted to be organized, and inclusive. We wouldn’t seek to supplant the existing skeptic organizations out there, nor expand into related areas that were well-covered by other organizations (such as atheism, humanism and secularism). With the assistance of Desiree and Scott, we set up a clear line of internal communication, wrote a mission statement, and notified our skeptic friends of our existence via personal letters and press releases… all before we even launched.

Once we did launch, on October 1, 2009, things grew incredibly fast.  In the opening two weeks, we were flooded with comments and emails from people saying “I’ve always waited for a Canadian skeptic group!”  It seems that we owe a great deal of our success to simply filling a niche.  Whereas some skeptic niches are smaller in scope, we stumbled upon a vast, and surprisingly empty niche: the entire country of Canada!

In our first month of operation, we made a regular contact in the Canadian mainstream media, which has since posted twelve of our articles by seven different authors.  In our second month, one of our articles appeared as a full-page column in mainstream media print (comparable ad space would have cost over $50,000). Two of our members appeared on Calgary radio, and one of my own articles appeared on the JREF’s Swift Blog.

Most of that attention was generated by our response a bill put forth before the Ontario Legislature, Bill 179, which was poised to grant naturopaths the right to prescribe medication.  Several major skeptic outlets followed our lead in challenging the bill,  such as Science Based Medicine, various Science Blogs, and my own appearance on the Skeptic’s Guide to the Universe, which all helped to grant a great deal of coverage on this important issue.  Sadly, the bill itself passed, but part of what we set out to do when we started this blog was to learn how to be a skeptic organization, and we learned enough to fill volumes.  By the time our 3rd month rolled around, I think that Skeptic North had proven itself to be a quality voice for skeptical activism, and our returning visitors nearly doubled from the previous month.

Integral to our success was our use of social networking (especially Facebook and Twitter).  For instance, when a pair of naturopaths wrote an article in the National Post making their case as to why they should have the right to prescribe, a large number of skeptics mobilized within a moment’s notice and left a thorough take-down in the comments section (that even got noticed as far away as New Zealand!).  While the Bill 179 issue was going on, Skeptic North was building its skeptic and media contacts, and asking for their help.  With effective organization at the grassroots level, Skeptic North and our friends helped to make a media story out of something that otherwise would surely have been swept under the rug.

Skeptic North is not, at the moment, a membership organization.  While we are trying to be the authority for Canadian skepticism, we know we can’t claim success just yet.  For now, we’re a place for Canadian skeptics to come together and write.  However, if Bill 179 taught us anything of value, it’s that we Canadian Skeptics are also capable of affecting real change when we mobilize the large number of supporters, contacts, and friends we’ve made, both inside and outside the skeptical community.  I can’t say for certain what Skeptic North will look like a year from now, but if we continue to grow at this rate, you can all expect big things in the near future.  As an organization that started in the Skepticism 2.0 phase, we have the advantage of adopting all the hard-fought lessons learned by our predecessors: The JREF, the Skeptics’ Society, and the Australian Skeptics.  We’ve managed to do in 3 months what some organizations take years to achieve.  The space-time compression effect of technology on culture has served us well, and I can’t wait to see what we do next!