The Science of the Ridiculous
- tripping8
- 2 days ago
- 11 min read
The recent U.S. government shutdown has been described in many ways - tragic, frustrating, avoidable - but perhaps “instructive” is the word we’ll go with today. It’s a rare moment when one can observe bureaucracy in its natural habitat: immobile, unfunded, and loudly self-congratulatory about it. Watching politicians argue over which essential services should continue, one begins to wonder what exactly “essential” means in the first place. And that, fellow taxpayers everywhere, is where this week’s curiosity began.

Because when the wheels of government are turning, they sometimes spin in unexpected directions. For every highway, hospital, and high-speed data network funded by public money, there are also… less linear pursuits. Somewhere in a fluorescent-lit lab, a respected academic may be coaxing laughter from a rat or testing the aerodynamics of a shrimp on a treadmill. It’s not that science has lost its way - merely that its compass occasionally spins wildly.
Of course, this isn’t uniquely American folly. The Swedes have paid researchers to determine whether chickens prefer attractive humans. Japan trained pigeons to judge the artistic merit of children’s paintings. And the Brits, with their usual flair for eccentricity, devoted six months of grant money to teaching a tortoise how to yawn.
These are the projects that populate the curious corner of human endeavor - the studies that make you laugh before they make you think. They’re celebrated annually at the Ig Nobel Awards, an event that honors seeming silliness in all its peer-reviewed glory. After all, if governments can spend billions on dysfunction, surely we can forgive the occasional grant for bee cocaine or banana peel friction. Because while the world argues endlessly about budgets, somewhere a researcher is teaching a tortoise how to yawn.

Animal Affairs:
#Chickens and Attractiveness - In 2002, researchers at Stockholm University - funded by the Swedish Research Council - set out to determine whether chickens share human notions of beauty. Photographs of faces - previously rated for attractiveness on a scale of 0-10 by college students - were shown to the birds, who were then invited to express their opinions the only way they could: by pecking. Interestingly, the hens usually pecked the men, while the cocks pecked the women. Astonishingly, 98% of the time, the chickens pecked the same “beautiful” faces the students had chosen.
The study was filed under “comparative cognition,” a phrase suggesting scientific gravitas while concealing its true purpose: testing the romantic discernment of poultry. Whether this reveals a universal aesthetic instinct or simply the folly of well-funded curiosity remains unclear. But it does prove that Swedish chickens appreciate good looks.

#Turkey Sexuality - At Penn State in the late 1970s, two animal behaviorists - Martin Schein and Edgar Hale - embarked on what may be the most Freudian experiment ever funded by a university on poultry. Their research, financed through the U.S. Department of Agriculture, aimed to understand turkey courtship behavior. Specifically, they wanted to know how little of a female turkey it takes to sexually arouse a male. To find out, they gradually removed parts of dead but stuffed female - first the wings, then the legs, then the tail - until all that remained was the head on a stick. The males, undeterred, continued their romantic overtures.
The study was published in Animal Behaviour in 1980 and quickly became infamous in both scientific and cocktail-party circles. Officially, it contributed to understanding “stimulus specificity in avian sexual response.” Unofficially, it proved that male turkeys are not, as a rule, very discerning lovers.

The research may not have advanced the field of psychology, but it did immortalize Penn State as the place where taxpayer money was once used to seduce a turkey with a disembodied head.
#Dragons Dreaming - In 2016, neuroscientists at the Max Planck Institute for Brain Research in Frankfurt, Germany received government funding to explore a question no one outside a reptile terrarium had ever asked: Do lizards dream? Using a combination of EEG monitoring and gentle persuasion, the researchers studied the nocturnal brain activity of the Australian bearded dragon. To their surprise, the dragons displayed alternating sleep phases remarkably similar to REM cycles in mammals - the stage associated with dreaming.
The findings were published in Science and hailed as evidence that dreaming may be far older, and stranger, than previously thought. Still, one wonders what, exactly, a lizard dreams about - sand, perhaps, or the unbearable sameness of captivity.

Either way, the study ensured that the bearded dragon - an animal best known for looking mildly judgmental - now holds a place in neuroscience history.
#Rats Laughing - In the late 1990s, neuroscientist Jaak Panksepp at Ohio’s Bowling Green State University received funding from the U.S. National Institute of Mental Health to study the emotional lives of rats. His method was simple, if somewhat unconventional: he tickled them. Using ultrasonic microphones, Panksepp and his team recorded high-frequency chirps emitted during the process - sounds inaudible to humans but unmistakably joyful. The conclusion: rats laugh when tickled, and they even seek out the experience again.

The work, published in Science and later expanded by other universities, was officially intended to illuminate the neural roots of joy and play behavior. Unofficially, it made Panksepp the first scientist to list “rat tickler” as a job title. The research revealed that happiness - whatever that is - may not be uniquely human after all. Still, one can’t help but picture a graduate student hunched over a cage at 2 a.m., gently giggling along with their subjects, and wonder whether the laughter was ever entirely one-sided.
Substances, Music, and Mood:
Rats and Jazz - In 2011, researchers at Albany Medical College in New York - funded in part by the U.S. National Institute on Drug Abuse - set out to explore how cocaine affects musical preference in rats. The rodents were given a choice between listening to jazz by Miles Davis or classical works by Beethoven, both played through tiny speakers beside their cages. Under normal conditions, the rats showed a mild preference for #Beethoven. But after being dosed with cocaine, they switched allegiance to #jazz.
The study’s goal, officially, was to examine how drug use alters brain reward pathways. Unofficially, it confirmed that even rats, when sufficiently stimulated, develop an appreciation for syncopation. The findings were published in Behavioural Neuroscience, and while they offered modest insight into addiction mechanisms, they also left behind the indelible image of a lab filled with wired rodents nodding along to “So What.”

Science, like jazz, thrives on improvisation.
#Honeybees on Cocaine - In 2009, researchers at Macquarie University in Sydney - supported by the Australian Research Council - decided to test whether honeybees become more industrious when high on #cocaine. The bees were fed minute doses of the drug and then released to perform their usual foraging tasks. Predictably, the coked-up bees returned to the hive and wildly exaggerated the quality of their discoveries through the famous “waggle dance,” overstating both distance and desirability of nectar sources with manic enthusiasm.

The study, published in PLoS ONE, was intended to shed light on the neurochemistry of reward and motivation. In practice, it revealed that bees, like humans, are prone to overpromise under the influence. When deprived of the drug, the researchers observed that the bees “exhibited a marked decrease in precision and motivation in their foraging behavior” - an outcome described in the report with the tragic understatement typical of academia. It did confirm, however, that hype is a universal language.
#Cheese and Dreams - In 2005, Britain’s Dairy Marketing Board funded a study to determine whether eating cheese before bed really does cause nightmares - a claim that had long haunted the national psyche and, presumably, their sales figures. Volunteers were given 20 grams of various cheeses thirty minutes before sleeping, then asked to record their dreams. The results were more peculiar than alarming: Stilton produced “bizarre” dreams, Cheddar inspired visions involving celebrities,

and Red Leicester brought on nostalgic scenes from childhood.
The study, though not published in any scientific journal, was widely reported and quietly admired for its sheer audacity. Conducted under the noble guise of nutritional science, it was, in essence, government-sanctioned bedtime snacking. Still, it achieved its aim: to prove that cheese does not, in fact, cause nightmares - only a mild sense of national self-parody. If nothing else, it confirmed that when it comes to research, Britain dreams big.
Physics and Physiology of the Absurd:
#Banana Peel Slipperiness - In 2012, researchers at Kitasato University in #Japan - funded by the Japan Society for the Promotion of Science - conducted a meticulous investigation into the frictional properties of banana peels. Using force sensors and biomechanical analysis, they measured how slippery a peel truly is when stepped on. The results were strikingly specific: the friction coefficient of a banana peel between a shoe and the floor is 0.07, about one-sixth that of a solid rubber sole.

Published in Tribology Online, the study was framed as a contribution to “biotribology,” or the study of friction in biological systems. In practice, it confirmed what every silent film had already taught us. Yet there’s something gratifying in watching Japan’s brightest minds apply laboratory precision to slapstick physics – proof, we guess, that science, like comedy, depends on timing and sometimes a good fall.
Potato Chip Crunch - In 2004, researchers at the University of Leeds - funded by Unilever, the multinational snack empire - set out to quantify the sound of satisfaction. Using microphones and sensory panels, they recorded the acoustics of potato chips being bitten at various stages of freshness. The crunch, they found, plays a decisive role in perceived flavor: louder, crisper chips were consistently rated as tasting better, even when identical in composition.

The findings were published in the Journal of Sensory Studies and immediately applied to product development, ensuring the world’s snack aisles remained aurally pleasing. It was science in service of marketing, though one suspects the researchers enjoyed themselves. After all, few academic pursuits allow participants to chew loudly in the name of progress. And in the end, they proved what philosophers have long suspected - pleasure, like science, is often just noise made respectable.
Herring Flatulence - In 2003, Swedish scientists from the University of Stockholm - funded by the Swedish Research Council and, briefly, NATO - made an unexpected discovery while studying how fish communicate. They found that herrings produce high-frequency sounds by releasing air from their swim bladders through the anus. The researchers named the noises “Fast Repetitive Tick” (FRT) sounds, a term whose acronym can only be described as accidental genius.
Published in Proceedings of the Royal Society B, the study suggested that these gassy emissions might serve as a form of social communication, helping schools of herring stay together in the dark.

The work earned an Ig Nobel Prize and a permanent place in scientific folklore. Whether NATO’s interest was strategic or merely curious remains unclear, but the takeaway was unmistakable: even in the cold, dark depths, some conversations are better left unrecorded.
Engineering, Technology, and the Accidental Genius:
#Shrimp on a Treadmill - In 2011, researchers at the College of Charleston in South Carolina - funded by the U.S. National Science Foundation and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration - became briefly famous for placing shrimp on a miniature treadmill. The study was intended to examine how exposure to low-oxygen environments affect crustacean stamina, with the shrimp encouraged to walk in place while hooked up to sensors measuring metabolism. The footage, later released online, turned the lab into an overnight symbol of government waste.

In reality, the project cost only a few thousand dollars and yielded legitimate data on the effects of marine pollution. But nuance has little hope against a viral image of jogging seafood. The lead scientist defended the work by noting that “shrimp exercise is serious research,” a statement so perfectly unironic it deserves its own grant. The study proved two things: shrimp can persevere, and science still runs best on curiosity - and occasionally, tiny treadmills.
Painting Cows with Stripes: - In 2019, agricultural scientists at #Kyoto University - funded by Japan’s Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology - tested whether painting black-and-white zebra stripes on cows could reduce fly bites. The logic was borrowed from nature: zebra stripes are believed to confuse biting insects by disrupting visual cues. Six Japanese Black cows were carefully hand-painted,

while a control group remained fashionably plain. The results showed nearly 50 percent fewer bites on the striped cows.
Published in PLOS ONE, the study claimed potential applications for reducing pesticide use in livestock. Still, it’s difficult to picture the grant proposal without admiration: a researcher earnestly arguing for bovine body art in the name of sustainability. The findings may not have transformed agriculture, but they did prove something subtler - that sometimes progress arrives not with a bang, but with a paintbrush.
Penile Zipper Entrapment Interventions - In 2002, a team of urologists at the University of California, San Francisco - supported by the U.S. National Institutes of Health - published what remains perhaps the most delicately titled study in medical literature: “Penile Zipper Entrapment: A Simple Approach.” Their goal was noble - to determine the safest, least traumatic method for freeing a patient from the all-too-common mechanical misfortune of zipper entrapment. The research, conducted through case studies and practical trials (volunteers anyone?),

explored various techniques and tools, eventually recommending mineral oil lubrication as the preferred intervention.
Though intended for emergency physicians, the study found a second life as an internet curiosity, cited endlessly as proof of government waste and academic excess. Yet the paper’s tone remains clinically serene, its language precise and unflinching - an admirable feat, considering the subject matter. It stands as a reminder that science, at its best, confronts the indignities of the human condition without judgment - just mineral oil and very steady hands.
Bee Behavior and Internet Algorithms - In the late 1990s, researchers at Georgia Tech and the University of Oxford - funded by the U.S. Office of Naval Research and the European Union’s Future and Emerging Technologies program - began studying how honeybees distribute labor within a hive. Their goal was to understand how individual #bees, operating without central command, efficiently allocate resources. The data they gathered on bee “task-switching” later inspired algorithms used in optimizing internet traffic and network routing.

What began as an inquiry into the social lives of insects evolved into the digital nervous system of modern communications. Today, every time you stream a video or send an email, a small trace of bee logic helps deliver it. It’s an elegant reminder that nature has already solved most of our technological problems - we’re just slow to notice. And though the study was once ridiculed as another example of “wasted” government funding, it ultimately proved that sometimes the shortest path to innovation is through a hive.
The Ig Nobel Awards
Since 1991, the Ig Nobel Prizes - handed out each year at Harvard University - have celebrated research that “first makes you laugh and then makes you think.”

Organized by the Annals of Improbable Research, the ceremony honors scientists who pursue the gloriously peculiar. Winners receive a paper trophy and a solitary banknote for the amount of ten trillion Zimbabwean dollars (roughly three U.S. cents), presented with as much pomp as the actual Nobels - though with considerably more paper airplanes.

While often treated as parody, the Ig Nobels perform a sly public service. They remind us that curiosity rarely travels in straight lines and that the distinction between “absurd” and “innovative” exists mostly in hindsight. Many past winners - mocked at first - went on to influence fields from medicine to computer science. The ceremony’s unofficial motto could well be science’s truest creed: it’s not about finding the right answers, but asking questions no sane person would think to ask.
The Science of the Ridiculous
In times of political theater, it’s fashionable to sneer at “wasteful” science - shrimp on treadmills, tortoises yawning, chickens with opinions on human beauty. The narrative writes itself: bureaucrats gone mad, ivory-tower eggheads lighting cigars with tax dollars. But the truth is that every major breakthrough starts somewhere inconveniently ridiculous. Penicillin was a lab accident. Microwave ovens began with a melted chocolate bar. The line between stupid and sublime is thin, and it’s usually drawn by someone with no imagination.
The irony is that these so-called frivolous studies cost less than a single missile or a politician’s lunch budget. They don’t bankrupt nations - they make them smarter, more curious, a little less arrogant about what they think they already know. The scientists studying dragon’s dreams aren’t the ones tanking the economy; they’re the ones still asking questions when everyone else has decided the answers are obvious.
Defunding curiosity is the real absurdity - the bureaucratic equivalent of turning off the lights because the shadows looked suspicious. Somewhere right now, someone’s being mocked for studying something that sounds stupid. Ten years from now, we’ll probably be thanking them. That’s the thing about science: it’s not supposed to make sense - until it does.




So interesting and quite honestly kind of fun. Cool and useful things have been discovered out of the craziest experiments!
The shrimp in the treadmill is probably the favorite story of government waste by the Magites! Regardless of the usefulness of the effort!
Thanks for the walk/run down crazy lane. Just remember, if it wasn’t for those crazy scientists, we wouldn’t have Vaccines, Ritz Crackers or Ozempic!
Crazy!