The smartest of invertebrates, the octopus, once again prompts us to rethink what we believe to be the origin of intelligence.
If I gave you 15 seconds you could come up with a pat evolutionary just-so story to account for this, speculating on what reproductive advantage it serves.
As a physician, I have cared for many patients who were fearful. Often with good reason, but not always.
I have long believed that “being alive” is the fundamental predicate to possessing even rudimentary intrinsic moral value.
The idea that scientists are like tribal elders, to be respected and never questioned, much less smirked at (God forbid), is one possible perspective.