What is the collective noun for sceptics? A query of sceptics, perhaps? A raised eyebrow? A proof? A Google search throws up "a critical mass".
Whatever it is, Dublin's Davenport Hotel this weekend plays host to such a gathering as the 13th European Skeptics Congress comes to town. More than 100 scientists, writers and determined doubters from Europe and North America will tackle topics such as alternative medicine, creationism, the paranormal, the media's treatment of science stories and this year's popular target, God.
"Primarily we're trying to promote science and critical thinking," says Paul O'Donoghue, a clinical psychologist, co-founder of Irish Skeptics and an organiser of the event. "We're concerned about the assault on science and how the whole alternative health thing, for instance, draws in science and calls it into question."
He and his wife, Noirín Buckley, volunteered to host the biennial event during the 2003 gathering in London, and have had to fund it from their own pocket, although he says there will be enough sceptics arriving to almost break even. "The SSIA should be safe," he says.
Being such a committed rationalist is, he admits, "a labour of love". Fighting the forces of the paranormal is a challenging task in an age when horoscopes sell newspapers, television carries out ghost hunts and homeopathy has not only hit the high street but is being considered by the higher-education standards watchdog, the Higher Education Training and Awards Council, as a possible BSc course. "A bachelor of science degree? It's a contradiction in terms!"
Sceptics are in the minority. "Surveys in the UK show that the level of belief in the paranormal is huge, and the level of ignorance in even basic science is very scary," O'Donoghue says.
But hasn't it always been the case that people believe in different therapies or the supernatural? "It's different now because this is a highly organised, multi-billion dollar industry, and it's competing with scientists for funding and for punters," he insists. "And the problem is that what it offers and claims are highly questionable, so that when you go down that route you can end up in trouble."
Since the emergence of Irish Skeptics (the American spelling is now common among such groups) in 2002, O'Donoghue has become a go-to guy for the media when they need a sceptical eye on matters. But appearances on The Late Late Show have proved tough going, and O'Donoghue is aware that sceptics can stand accused of being not just po-faced but as fundamentalist as their foes. As a result, the conference will look at accusations of "scientism".
"We've learned to modify our approach. We don't want to come across as a smart-ass or know-it-all, as scientists are sometimes perceived. The danger is that we'll look like the bad guy beating up someone who says they only want to help people."
However, with 200 card-carrying Irish Skeptics, and a busy lecture programme each year, he's convinced that there are plenty of people looking for something to disbelieve in. The current popularity of atheistic polemics has set the tone for an aggressive scrap between what sceptics see as the forces of reason and unreason. So, through its theme "Assault on science: constructing a response", the conference will also examine how to communicate its message more effectively.
"We're looking not just at what's going on, but how to respond," says O'Donoghue. "It's up to people like us to inform mainstream practitioners - scientists and medics - on how they can in turn inform people."
Irish speakers include TCD professor of genetics Prof David McConnell and oncologist Prof John Crown. The author of the Guardian's weekly Bad Science column, Dr Ben Goldacre, and physicist and author Vic Stenger will also speak.
What delegates haven't been able to believe is the price of accommodation in Dublin, comments O'Donoghue. "Ah well," he says of the logistical headaches, "these things are sent to try us."
Perhaps. But by whom?
