Science B

First, a party trick. Freshmen: walk up to any group of five or more upperclassmen. Ask if any of them has taken Science B-62, “The Human Mind.” Step back and watch. Without fail, at least one of them will go apeshit.

Hundreds of students each semester elect to take Steven Pinker’s famous course, expecting an easy, fun class about brains. The verdict? A common one for Science B classes, unfortunately. To wit: “That class was so much fucking bullshit.”

Translation? Too much material that appears in lecture or section for about three milliseconds surfaces out of nowhere like Jaws’ dorsal fin to bite you in the ass on the midterm and final, while stuff that takes up multiple lectures is never heard from again. This is not “Food and Culture,” folks. Science B skipped the lecture on “Um, Cores are Supposed to Be EASY, I’m Trying to Write a THESIS Here!”, so do yourself a favor and get it out of the way early. This need not be a nightmare–just know you won’t be half-assing a final paper about chicken nuggets or lollipops or something. Or, at least, you won’t end up with an A- for it.

Science B, like Science A, exists ostensibly to give students a grounding in “scientific literacy and numeracy”, whatever the hell that means. In particular, Science B takes on the biological, evolutionary, and environmental end of things. While the classes are often too broad to allow for any kind of in-depth study (“That’s outside the scope of the course” is an ‘answer’ you’ll come to expect from your TF), the subject matter is often fascinating enough to serve as a jumping-off point to further exploration in the sciences. Unlike some Cores (ahem, Moral Reasoning) where every offering is basically the same course with 10 different names, each Science B touches on a different topic, from the anatomy of dinosaurs to the mechanics of human vision or the creation of our planet. Pick your poison.

B-62 was spring semester ’06’s whipping boy, but not quite for the right reasons. Okay, Larry Summers’ BFF did once build an entire lecture around a hunk of plastic dog poo, and he gets the lines between current scientific theory, his opinion, and incontrovertible fact all mixed up, the poor dear. Pinker may flirt successfully with psychology, neurobiology, and evolutionary theory, but his class is jack-of-all-trades, master of none. Le sigh. But on the bright side: Pinker’s brain is as big as his mullet, if not as big as his ego, he’s a dynamic, entertaining lecturer, and he plays bizarre clips of himself and cute toddlers that feature Alan Alda for literally no reason. TFs of varying degrees of competency do the dirty work of actually conveying the nuts and bolts of information, and are generally helpful.

The amount of lecture airtime various topics get seems at times inversely related to importance. Two entire lectures are wasted on Freudian theory, which every asshole at Harvard knows inside and out and has probably exploited for at least one Expos paper. Meanwhile, what tends to actually show up on the final is only mentioned in passing. Many students weigh the odds of actually hearing something worthwhile during class and decide to take long lunches instead—only to bomb out on the midterm and final. Don’t be that kid. Or, you know, those four hundred people. On the plus side: no p-sets, your TF won’t notice if you don’t read, and you get an extra swing at the final term paper with a graded first draft. The requirements have also been significantly drawn down to the tune of one less paper since the course was first offered. Awesome.

If the latest in controversial evolutionary psychology and Magic Eye illusions doesn’t particularly strike your fancy, take it back to first grade with Science B-57, “Dinosaurs and their Relatives.” The class is a big favorite, so much so that it had to turn some students away last year, and the professor, Charles Marshall, is knowledgeable and easy to understand. Readings? Virtually none. Problem sets? That’s what section is for. So, no work outside of class, and it’s about fucking dinosaurs. Where do I sign up, right? But while you’re filling out little handouts with names of T-Rex and stegosaurus body parts, information is flowing, and straight-up memorization forms the backbone of the class. At midterm and final time, every word from Marshall’s mouth is up for grabs—students were grilled about total minutiae from lecture, and TFs were picky with what answers were awarded full credit. Basically, though, if you crack open the damn book, do your reading, and actually study for this one come test time, you’ll be okay.

Science B-29, “Evolution of Human Evolution,” boasts two professors–Richard Wrangham and Marc Hauser–but their combined forces aren’t enough to make this course any fun. Hauser is the better of the two, but the TFs are largely terrible, and don’t like answering tough questions beyond the all-purpose “It won’t be on the final.” That’s fine for English concentrators doing their time in hard science, but if you’re actually trying to engage with the material (ecology, linguistics, behavior, and genetics), prepare for some serious frustration.

In general, students who come to Science B expecting QR 34, “Counting People”-esque pseudo-science—in other words, a total gut that requires you to learn little to nothing–will be disappointed. What you’re getting instead is a warp-speed tour of one area of actual science. And unlike most cores, if you skip too many lectures or don’t do your reading scrupulously, you’re actually a little bit screwed. It’s almost like taking a real class!

Which reminds us: don’t even consider the inter-departmental options for Science B; they’re all filled with pre-meds, and God knows life’s too short for that shit.