On a Belief Poll
In Michael Shermer's book
How We Believe: the Search for God in an Age of Science, he cites a poll where nearly 50% of people said they believed in God for rational reasons: viz. either the orderliness of nature or deduction from personal experiences. However, almost 70% of respondents felt that other people believed for non-rational or emotional reasons. Why this difference between how people percieve themselves and how they percieve others?
Shermer ascribes this to a theory that people tend to think that their stance on topics are for rational reasons while other people's are for "weaker" emotional reasons. He gives an example of gun control, where the conservative argues from statistical data, while claiming that the opposition are "bleeding-heart liberals who feel they must identify with the victim." While this analogy really does seem to apply to most issues (and certainly, I'm sometimes guilty of these type of thoughts), I think that there may be another reason on the question of God.
In short: poll respondents said they believed rationally because that's what they think the poll-takers wanted to hear. But this is no superficial attempt at pleasing or deceiving the statisticians; rather, it comes from a more deeply-seated social motive. In an increasingly scientific world, the pressure on religious followers to explain their faith through rational means has grown accordingly. It thus becomes a sort of habit to defend one's faith to non-believers by appealing to their logic. It's also one of the few ways to actively convert a staunch non-believer (now that Inquisition techniques are no longer viable in America). In other words, believers may truly be rooted in an emotional, spiritual feeling, yet externally ward off athiests and agnostics with rationality. This is also why they think that other people believe for emotional reasons: it is the respondent's true motivation for belief himself, yet he feels that others have not had to develop the shield of logic.
Of course, this is just a conjuecture, but it's based on my own experiences. I went through the same process of emotion to logic, and ultimately I'm a fideist. A fideist is someone who believes in God only because it's consoling; I don't attempt to prove or disprove God to anyone. I find this position fitting for scientists like myself who must acknowledge logic, yet are unwilling to deny the emotion inherent in human nature.
Public Speaking: An Example
I hate to use biology as the background for this example, but I feel the need to correct some of the abhorrent speaking perpetrated by my grad student colleagues. I'm far from being a great public speaker myself, but the major difference I've noted is that I'm more confident on stage. Although my mannerisms and content may not be the best of the group, the appearance of being in control and the word choices ultimately make my speeches more effective in getting the point across. What follows is just an example I made up:
Topic: A new protein is discovered that goes through a protein channel based on shape and electrostatic charge.
Poor phrasing: "According to our data, Protein X is negatively charged. This is a picture of the protein, and you can see what I mean if you look here. Other tests show that the protein has a shape like a triangle, and probably is small enough to fit in Channel Y. We have a graphic that shows this possible fit. Also, this amino acid on the tip may fit in the pocket of the channel. The channel is positively charged, so it's a good electrostatic interaction that pushes the protein through."
Better phrasing: "We first showed that Protein X has a shape somewhat like a triangle, with the largest end just small enough to fit into Channel Y. This physical data was the first indication that this could be a physiological matchup. This graphic shows a possible cartoon configuration, and you'll notice that this amino acid is just matching up nicely with this pocket in the channel. That was our second proof. Finally, we determined that Protein X is negatively charged, and that Channel Y is positively charged. We think the electrostatic interaction helps to push the protein through the channel."
Even better phrasing: "The first thing we did is say, 'All right, so what could make Protein X go through Channel Y?" Well, at the simplest level, you just look at shape. A triangular peg can't fit through a round hole... well, unless the peg is smaller than the hole. So if you look at the drawing, you'll see a nice triangular protein trying to fit through a round, but bigger channel. Guess what we found out: the protein is just the right size to squeeze through Channel Y. What's more, this amino acid here fits right into the channel's pocket. So that's two things we already had going for us: size and shape. But what really convinced us was the third thing: charge. Protein X is negatively charged; Channel Y, positively charged. You all know that opposites attract, and it's no different here. We believe this electrostatic attraction helps push Protein X through Channel Y."
The last one's a bit wordier and a lot more casual than the rest, but that's the price you pay for relating to the audience. It doesn't matter how smart they are -- especially when you're a student presenting to a professor -- because any audience will appreciate not having to make large logical leaps between series of information if they don't need to.
The first example is, unfortunately, typical of a lot of presentations I've seen. The presenters have a bunch of facts and they just lay them out for you one after the other. There's little or no attempt to separate them, or to signpost (signposting means, basically, that you say, "this is point one, this is point two"). Even worse, there's no logical connections or conclusions beyond the final analysis. It's helpful to review your statements as you make them, and to make sub-conclusions before summing them up for the big finish.
Furthermore, a typical mistake in the first example is the separation of ideas. Protein X being negatively charged is separated by a ton of data before we get to hear that Channel Y is positively charged. The audience is likely to forget the first part by the time you get to the second. If you absolutely can't put them together chronologically, say something like, "If you'll remember, I mentioned earlier that Protein X is positively charged." Juxtaposition of ideas is critical to connecting them in the audience's head, especially if they can't just scroll up and read what you said earlier.
Finally, the casual languague -- though not always appropriate -- is a good way to present mundane data with a little human touch. Lead them through how you were thinking as you did the experiments, because that's often the best flow of logic available. Or, better yet, retrospectively rediscover your logical steps (i.e., lie about how you really thought at the time to make it seem like you're smarter than you actually were... I'm not cynical am I?). Seriously, though, it's common practice to cast your experiments in the light of logic for the sake of ease of communication, whether or not the logic is canonical.
In all, the breakdown and ordering of ideas and the connection of them into a logical flow that the audience can relate to are the key aspects of successful science presentations.
On Public Speaking
When a speaker becomes overly concerned with style and physical presentation, it's rather like polished, but broken furniture: it may attract attention and please the viewer's eye, but is ultimately ineffective in its primary function. In organizing the content of a speech, the logical flow is of primary importance. Breaking down the information into digestable portions and creating a stepwise train of those thoughts are essential to sustaining an audience's interest and absorptive value.
An analogy I like to make is to Yahtzee. The thrown dice need to be sorted into the best order to gain the most points. If you simply throw the dice on the table and leave them where they land, it becomes hard to sort out the collision of information. However, if you use the provided dice holders (do they make them anymore?), it's a lot easier to see if you have a straight, a full house, or three of a kind. In like fashion, information -- especially if you're dealing with numbers and convoluted facts -- is a lot easier to grasp for the audience when they see that you have sorted them out into the best order possible.
A Retraction
I'll have to retract what I said earlier about protein evolution. To make my hypothesis work, I'd have to invoke some form of Lamarkian theory about proteins (versus the correct Mendelian view). New proteins don't get their sequences encoded in the germline through use or production, it occurs by mutations and insertions in the DNA. Nevertheless, proteins do interact in a very complicated network that can turn simple amino acid strands into functional proteins. Heat shock and chaperone proteins come to mind: proteins that help other proteins fold into the right orientation. It thus remains possible that the evolution of new protein "tools" could have helped form hemoglobin from less functional precursors.