Nick Seeber's blog

Vaccination is a social obligation

There's an excellent article in Wired on irrational hysteria and public fear about vaccination.

Please read it - it provides a well-written and approachable overview of the subject.

In May, The New England Journal of Medicine laid the blame for clusters of disease outbreaks throughout the US squarely at the feet of declining vaccination rates, while nonprofit health care provider Kaiser Permanente reported that unvaccinated children were 23 times more likely to get pertussis, a highly contagious bacterial disease that causes violent coughing and is potentially lethal to infants. In the June issue of the journal Pediatrics, Jason Glanz, an epidemiologist at Kaiser’s Institute for Health Research, revealed that the number of reported pertussis cases jumped from 1,000 in 1976 to 26,000 in 2004. A disease that vaccines made rare, in other words, is making a comeback. “This study helps dispel one of the commonly held beliefs among vaccine-refusing parents: that their children are not at risk for vaccine-preventable diseases,” Glanz says.

“I used to say that the tide would turn when children started to die. Well, children have started to die,” Offit says, frowning as he ticks off recent fatal cases of meningitis in unvaccinated children in Pennsylvania and Minnesota. “So now I’ve changed it to ‘when enough children start to die.’ Because obviously, we’re not there yet.”

Bottom line: children are dying unnecessarily because their parents haven't vaccinated them.

Vaccination is a social obligation that helps everyone. 

My university dissertation - The Use of Digital Imaging in Examining Textual Artefacts

During the final year of my degree course I had to write two primary source essays (typically around 5,000 words each) and a dissertation (10-15,000 words). The subject for mine was an examination of the use of digital imaging techniques (mostly medical) in looking at ancient texts and textual artefacts (things like scrolls, cuneiform tablets, etc.

I had great fun writing it, and was lucky enough to have one of the world's foremost cuneiform experts (and wonderful person) Eleanor Robson as my tutor. Reading it now, I've been enjoying re-opening all of the dusty memories I have of the subject matter.

It did fine when it was marked - graded 2:1 - but I think the journalistic / informative / technical / geeky slant to it let it down from an academic perspective! On the flip side, it made it fairly interesting for a (motivated) casual reader. And I like it, which is all that counts, after all. I don't think there's much I'd change.

Incidentally, I did a 'management consulting-esque' presentation of it when I was interviewed for my first job at Detica, and it very much impressed my interviewer. So the technical stuff was useful in the end.

Nick Seeber History of Science Dissertation

My personal statement from UCAS application

My younger sister is applying to university at the moment so I've been giving her some advice about the Personal Statement she'll need to write. People differ about how important it is, but given that it's a chance to sell yourself, it makes sense to make the most of it.

Anyway, I dug out the one I wrote when I was applying for university many moons ago (or so it feels!) and thought I'd post here in case anyone finds it useful (it helped me get into my first choice university) .

Given that I wrote it when I was 17 I don't think it's too bad, though admittedly some of it makes me sound like a bit of a tool (or maybe I just am a bit of a tool?).

Anway, here goes...

"The desire to know is natural to good men." Leonardo da Vinci

When it comes to scientists, I have a particular admiration for Leonardo da Vinci. Master of anything he put his mind to, with ideas hundreds of years ahead of his contemporaries, he was the true Renaissance Man. Nowadays, although specialisation is the key to scientific breakthroughs, I think it is still important to be able to see the links between very different disciplines. I believe that my questioning mind and love of science will stand me in good stead in the degree courses I have chosen.

Last year I applied to study Biochemistry at university, but later declined the offers I received because I knew that by taking Biochemistry I would not be able to keep studying my other areas of interest. I want to be able to use all of the A-levels I studied - Maths, Biology, Physics and Chemistry - to develop my fairly wide, but basic, scientific knowledge into something more substantial. Therefore, this year I have applied for entrance to both Biomedical Engineering and Natural Science courses.

Searching the UCAS directory of courses, Biomedical Engineering was the only specific subject I found which made me think immediately: "This is a course I want to do". Biomedical Engineering will use a broad scientific knowledge, applied to a range of extremely interesting and challenging applications. Already a fairly rare course, over the past year I have been able to narrow my selection down to only two of the best Biomedical Engineering courses.

Conversely, by being so flexible, a Natural Science course will allow me to choose exactly which options I take, so that I can tailor my degree to the topics I find stimulating or exciting. Due to the number of courses offered, I have been very selective when choosing Natural Science courses, finding only two that I believe to be ideal for me.

During my time at sixth form, I tried to take part in as many activities as possible, both in and out of school. One of the first of these was the Mock Trial, which involved working as a team to win an imaginary court case, presided over by a practising Crown Court judge. Another was to take part in the international Young Enterprise scheme, where I was one of a group of A-level students who formed a company, producing, marketing and selling handmade clocks. Acting as the Finance Director, I was in charge of the necessarily accurate record keeping it involved, forming and implementing a business plan and speaking publicly at numerous presentations. Our team won the area finals.

I also took part in a 10-day course at Surrey University called MasterClass 2000, which is run for first-year A-level students on a competitive basis. It involves a small research project, typically at degree level or beyond, for six different teams, culminating in a detailed and professional presentation at the end of the week. I was elected to be team leader for my group, which was given the task of developing and building an adaptive antenna for mobile phone technology. As team leader, I tried to ensure that work was designated fairly and that the team members were motivated and focused on their tasks, whilst keeping an overall view of the progress of the project. By extensive computer modelling of gain patterns for various arrays of dipoles, we designed and built an antenna, and then tested its performance in an anechoic chamber. We found that our ideas were validated by the results, which I presented to the judges. Our team, Fuji, won first prize (http://www.ee.surrey.ac.uk/masterclass2000/).

I have taken part in the Senior Maths Challenge for the past two years, an optional timed test involving lateral thinking, where the candidate is allowed only pencil and paper. I came first in the school in 1999 and second in 2000. I particularly enjoy Mathematical and Mensa-type problems.

I enjoy reading very much, and have recently been writing short stories. I take great pleasure in travelling, and am a keen amateur photographer. My hobbies include tinkering with computers (especially my own), playing badminton and driving. Currently I am attempting to renovate my car, which is a very old Mini.

I am sure that I will enjoy being at university, and am pleased with my decision to reapply. I know that I will come back with energy from a year out which I am enjoying tremendously! At the moment I have been reading various books on Chaos Theory, Medieval History and science fiction, especially by John Wyndham.

Happy to provide feedback on drafts if anyone wants some help - I know that it can feel like a challenge. Good luck if you're in the middle of it now!

Beware the spinal trap

(Note: this is the infamous article on chiropractic that got Simon Singh sued. It is being reposted all over the web today by multiple blogs and online magazines.)

---

Some practitioners claim it is a cure-all, but the research suggests chiropractic therapy has mixed results - and can even be lethal, says Simon Singh.

You might be surprised to know that the founder of chiropractic therapy, Daniel David Palmer, wrote that "99% of all diseases are caused by displaced vertebrae". In the 1860s, Palmer began to develop his theory that the spine was involved in almost every illness because the spinal cord connects the brain to the rest of the body. Therefore any misalignment could cause a problem in distant parts of the body.

In fact, Palmer's first chiropractic intervention supposedly cured a man who had been profoundly deaf for 17 years. His second treatment was equally strange, because he claimed that he treated a patient with heart trouble by correcting a displaced vertebra.

You might think that modern chiropractors restrict themselves to treating back problems, but in fact some still possess quite wacky ideas. The fundamentalists argue that they can cure anything, including helping treat children with colic, sleeping and feeding problems, frequent ear infections, asthma and prolonged crying - even though there is not a jot of evidence.

I can confidently label these assertions as utter nonsense because I have co-authored a book about alternative medicine with the world's first professor of complementary medicine, Edzard Ernst. He learned chiropractic techniques himself and used them as a doctor. This is when he began to see the need for some critical evaluation. Among other projects, he examined the evidence from 70 trials exploring the benefits of chiropractic therapy in conditions unrelated to the back. He found no evidence to suggest that chiropractors could treat any such conditions.

But what about chiropractic in the context of treating back problems? Manipulating the spine can cure some problems, but results are mixed. To be fair, conventional approaches, such as physiotherapy, also struggle to treat back problems with any consistency. Nevertheless, conventional therapy is still preferable because of the serious dangers associated with chiropractic.

In 2001, a systematic review of five studies revealed that roughly half of all chiropractic patients experience temporary adverse effects, such as pain, numbness, stiffness, dizziness and headaches. These are relatively minor effects, but the frequency is very high, and this has to be weighed against the limited benefit offered by chiropractors.

More worryingly, the hallmark technique of the chiropractor, known as high-velocity, low-amplitude thrust, carries much more significant risks. This involves pushing joints beyond their natural range of motion by applying a short, sharp force. Although this is a safe procedure for most patients, others can suffer dislocations and fractures.

Worse still, manipulation of the neck can damage the vertebral arteries, which supply blood to the brain. So-called vertebral dissection can ultimately cut off the blood supply, which in turn can lead to a stroke and even death. Because there is usually a delay between the vertebral dissection and the blockage of blood to the brain, the link between chiropractic and strokes went unnoticed for many years. Recently, however, it has been possible to identify cases where spinal manipulation has certainly been the cause of vertebral dissection.

Laurie Mathiason was a 20-year-old Canadian waitress who visited a chiropractor 21 times between 1997 and 1998 to relieve her low-back pain. On her penultimate visit she complained of stiffness in her neck. That evening she began dropping plates at the restaurant, so she returned to the chiropractor. As the chiropractor manipulated her neck, Mathiason began to cry, her eyes started to roll, she foamed at the mouth and her body began to convulse. She was rushed to hospital, slipped into a coma and died three days later. At the inquest, the coroner declared: "Laurie died of a ruptured vertebral artery, which occurred in association with a chiropractic manipulation of the neck."

This case is not unique. In Canada alone there have been several other women who have died after receiving chiropractic therapy, and Edzard Ernst has identified about 700 cases of serious complications among the medical literature. This should be a major concern for health officials, particularly as under-reporting will mean that the actual number of cases is much higher.

If spinal manipulation were a drug with such serious adverse effects and so little demonstrable benefit, then it would almost certainly have been taken off the market.

---

Simon Singh is a science writer in London and the co-author, with Edzard Ernst, of Trick or Treatment? Alternative Medicine on Trial. This is an edited version of an article published in The Guardian for which Singh is being personally sued for libel by the British Chiropractic Association.

The Sack

Excellent clip of Dara O'Briain on the public understanding of science. Think it embodies my thinking pretty well :-)

Having registered with Scribd, I thought I'd have a play...

This is the second issue of a magazine I produced a couple of years ago for the London History of Science Society (which I founded with a friend). The society hasn't done much recently, but I expect it'll get revived at some point!

Anyway, if you've never seen it before, enjoy:

Phaeton magazine Issue 02

Publish at Scribd or explore others: Magazines & Newspape navigation naziresearch

From The Lay Scientist blog:.

Surgeons performing a biopsy a suspected tumour in the lung of a 28-year-old Russian were astonished to find a two inch fir tree growing inside the mass. The patient had been complaining of chest pains, and presented coughing up blood.

From a referral by PZ Myers, I saw this "simperingly stupid" column by Jim Carrey on the Huffington Post - another example of the media's MMR hoax.

What a prick:

In this growing crisis, we cannot afford to blindly trumpet the agenda of the CDC, the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) or vaccine makers. Now more than ever, we must resist the urge to close this book before it's been written. The anecdotal evidence of millions of parents who've seen their totally normal kids regress into sickness and mental isolation after a trip to the pediatrician's office must be seriously considered.

It made me angry given that (a) there is no scientific basis for a link between autism and the MMR vaccine and conversely (b) there is a very clear rise in the number of children contracting preventable diseases since MMR vaccination has declined.

A non-moronic comment from someone who does know about vaccination:

Professor David Salisbury, director of immunisation at the Department of Health, said it was "irresponsible" for parents not to have their children vaccinated.
He said: "I think it's irrational, I think it's putting children's lives at risk. I can see no shred of benefit. There is no evidence that having vaccines separately is better. There are good reasons why it's worse."

I doubt Carrey will ever feel anything except smug self-righteousness about his promotion of the MMR hoax, but it will add to the unnecessary and totally preventable deaths of children from measles, mumps, and rubella.

For this reason, from now on I will never watch any of his movies and urge others to do the same.

UPDATE 23/04/09: excellent response to Carrey's column by Orac.

As part of my effort to reduce the backlog of unread books in my life, I'm currently reading Bad Science, a fantastic book by Ben Goldacre, who also writes a column for The Guardian, and a blog, both of the same name.

Given the topic - the endemic misunderstanding and misrepresentation of science in society and the media - I thought that I would re-publish an article I wrote in November 2006 in the first edition of Phaeton, the London History of Science Society's magazine, which (not coincidentally) I edit. It touches on many of the same themes as Ben's book.

What's interesting is that I only began reading Bad Science (the column and blog) after I wrote the article [I've no idea how I missed it for so long - I blame my parents for being readers of The Torygraph :-)].

Anyway, despite independent thinking, there's an eerie similarity between the points that Ben and I make, and I'm very chuffed. When I write the full article I'll compare and contrast our views but in the meantime I hope that the original article is of some interest...

- - - - - - - - - - -

Why I hate popular science reporting - by Nick Seeber, Phaeton, Issue 1 (Nov 2006)

I hate popular science reporting.

My friends find this odd. As a self-professed science geek, surely I should love reading about discoveries being made by scientists doing cutting-edge research in weird and wonderful fields of human endeavour? Surely I should applaud the effort to bring an interest in science to the masses: to allow several generations, who in the most part are completely baffled by even the most rudimentary science, to take part in the thrill of scientific knowledge and technological achievement?

Maybe I should – it’s demonstrably obvious that the general level of science knowledge shown by even supposedly well-educated non-scientists is pretty appalling. Ask an English student to explain the first law of thermodynamics and they’ll probably reply ‘thermo-what?’, even though this is the science equivalent of asking who wrote “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known” or maybe even enquiring who fictionally said “To be or not to be – that is the question”.

Any university student worth their salt, regardless of their subject, would be expected to know that the answers are respectively (for those of you still thinking) Dickens in A Tale of Two Cities and Shakespeare’s Hamlet; but no-one would expect anyone but a chemist or physicist to be able to explain the concept of entropy, a fundamental principle of thermo-dynamics. Science knowledge is limited almost exclusively to scientists – it isn’t taken for granted in the way that, say, knowledge of history or literature are amongst the general educated public. 

Surely this widespread and almost pathological ignorance requires some urgent remedial action by scientists and the media? Perhaps there should be more documentaries on interesting science research or more news coverage of high-tech discoveries? I disagree. The state of affairs where most people know very little about science has come about not because science is innately difficult to understand, but as a result of the well-cultivated perception that the process of doing science is somehow special or unique and that scientists think and act in a way that is fundamentally different to other people. 

Which, of course, is all garbage.

The basis for the contemporary dichotomy of belief – that science is at once both specially challenging and also boring or tedious – has its roots, I believe, in the unique way in which science is reported to the general public, and in the way scientists choose to portray themselves.  

When researching my dissertation, a study of various scientific research projects involving high-tech imaging of archaeological artefacts, I read numerous ‘popular science’ articles written in broadsheet newspapers and magazines covering these projects. Unusually for me, in this case I was in the privileged position of having done a good deal of independent personal research into the projects.

I could see, therefore, which aspects of the projects these articles were reporting and, far more interestingly, which they were leaving out. In the process, I reached a number of conclusions about the unwritten rules which seem to dictate the way such articles are written. Handily, I’ve summarised them here:

• Patronise your reading audience by assuming that none of them will be interested in anything more than a cursory summary of the scientific concepts being discussed. Focus instead on something frivolous or irrelevant, even if it has only a tenuous link to the subject matter.

• Rather than treating the project or endeavour as a collaborative effort, make the focus of the article an obsequious mini-biography of the project leader, usually culled from a personal interview. If at all possible, make out that he is uniquely brilliant in his chosen field.

• Describe the possible outcomes of the project in the rosiest of terms and always be optimistic when making claims about the effects of new technology on standards of living.

• Never criticise or seriously question the scientists or their goals.

This reverent, deferential way of reporting on science has the undesirable effect of putting scientists on a special intellectual pedestal and in the process removing them from the healthy criticism of a free press, to which all other projects in the public domain are subjected.

Imagine an article on a politician’s pet project (EU subsidies, say, or regional devolution, or more cheap housing in rural areas, or whatever) written in the same style as such journalistic reports on science projects or theories.

It would be ridiculous.

It would be ridiculous because reporting in this way is not responsible or ethical: it doesn’t convey the whole picture of what ordinary science is about, in the same way that a politician’s report on his own projects could never be relied upon to provide a balanced critique of his own activity.

By airbrushing human traits such as greed, laziness, incompetence, avarice and even everyday office politics from the reporting of science, journalists are doing the public a grave disservice. We need ‘the dirt’ on science in the same way that we need the dirt on politicians and corporate figures; as the basis for making informed decisions about how much we trust them to be acting on our behalf.

A large amount of science is funded directly or indirectly by the government – so many scientists do in essence work for us, the general public. We have a right to know about the science they are doing, reported not in black and white, but in realistic shades of grey. Extremist treatment of science in the press, as either all good or all bad, results in the public outrage seen when a scientific institution or project spectacularly fails to deliver on its promises. This sort of reporting is hypocrisy – seeing what is with the rose-tinted spectacles of what should be, where what should be is a carefully cultivated myth generated by the scientific establishment to legitimise itself and inoculate the public against criticism of science.

Science should be able to provide clear-cut answers; it should be able to make the world a better place in which to live; it should provide cures for disease and end poverty; but without a public willing and able to make science a tool of democracy and not the other way around, science does not and cannot accomplish these goals. Unless science is treated with the same realistic expectations and is subjected to the same criticisms as other fields, the unique position in which it sits, alternately idealised and demonised, will remain unchallenged.

So, the reason I hate popular science reporting is that when I read it, I feel like I’m being brainwashed. I wish that science journalists would take off the kid gloves and actually investigate their stories. I wish that they would develop balanced perspectives rather than simply repeating, verbatim and unquestioned, what a scientist involved in the project wants them to report.

Why don’t they ask the difficult questions, the ones the scientists would prefer not to have to answer? Why don’t they demand more than slick sound bites and clever-looking diagrams that distract readers from the real, crunch questions?

Maybe, the problem is that essentially there are (with some exceptions, of course) two sorts of people who report on science: scientists, who don’t want to ask difficult questions for fear of somehow “damaging the public image of science” (which, after all, provides the basis for their expertise); and non-scientists, who simply don’t have enough science education to know which questions to ask or to be able to tell when they are being fed misleading information. Neither can realistically be expected to provide adequate journalistic coverage of science.

I don’t know how this situation can be remedied, but I can offer some opinions. A good start would be a mandatory course in philosophy of science for all science undergraduates (on which subject I am unashamedly partisan, having studied History and Philosophy of Science at the best HPS department in the world). Students of philosophy of science gain an appreciation of the underlying problems facing scientific enquiry which are not discussed by scientists themselves: questions like what is science?; what makes experimental knowledge special?; how can anything be known for certain?; what’s wrong with thinking that past experience allows us to predict the future?. These are questions which scientists don’t usually ask themselves, but which inculcate a more sophisticated understanding of how science functions as a human, social, political activity.

Even reading some key texts – maybe Thomas S. Kuhn’s  paradigm-creating The Structure of Scientific Revolutions or Theodore Roszak’s thought-provoking The Makings of a Counter Culture – would be an excellent start.

All people, not just scientists, must understand that science is ultimately a socially-mediated enterprise, prey to the effects of personal foibles and the influence of charisma just like all other human activities. Scientific truth is rarely, if ever, absolute: and science should not be a religion, requiring doctrinal faith and implicitly or explicitly forbidding criticism.

To thrive, science necessitates internal conflict and disagreement, a dynamic equilibrium which promotes creativity and free thought. To understand that it is this permanent warfare of ideas that makes science so interesting, the public must be shown that science is not a staid cumulative progression from Aristotle to Copernicus to Newton to Einstein, but rather a battle ground in which only the strongest or best supported ideas and theories will survive.

The sooner science is taken from its pedestal, the better.

As the London History of Science Society website has been relatively dormant for the last year or so, I thought that it might be worth giving an update on why everything's gone a bit quiet. Also, for those who are curious about the Society and where it came from, and might like to get involved in the future, I'd like to give an outline of the sorts of activities we've had in the past and what's planned in the New Year.

As some of you will know, for my degree course I studied the history of science at Cambridge, at the Department for the History and Philosophy of Science (HPS). Despite its international renown, the Department has a cosy and friendly feel, and is very welcoming to new students and visitors. The Whipple Museum is an essential stop for any trip to Cambridge - if you haven't visited before, you really should.

During the time I was, studying the kind, charismatic, and inspirational Peter Lipton was running the Department, whose premature death in 2007 was a great blow not only to his family and friends but also to the Department and indeed the field of philosopy, within which he was an intellectual giant and highly respected authority. [For those who would like to learn more about this wonderful man's life, see the obituaries on the HPS website and in the major broadsheet papers].

I was privileged to hear Professor Lipton's superb lectures on epistemology and the problem of induction in my second year, and was sorely tempted to specialise in the study of philosophy of science in my final year - but in the end plumped for history of science and have never regretted it.

The beauty of the HPS undergraduate course is the ability to take three different modules in the final year, which can be mixed and matched in any combination according to the interests of the student. For me it was easy to narrow down the options to the four pure history of science modules (Classical Traditions in the Sciences - from Antiquity to the Renaissance; Scientific Revolution / Enlightenment Science; 19th century science; 20th Century Science & Technology) - but then choosing which one to drop was very tough indeed.

In the end I chose the courses which were taught by my favorite lecturers - Eleanor Robson, Jon Agar [now at UCL], Lauren Kassell, and Simon Schaffer - which meant dropping the 19th century science, though I did attend quite a few of the lecture series.

I was also lucky enough to be supervised by Eleanor for my dissertation (on the contemporary use of medical imaging techniques to 'read' ancient textual artefects) and it was a wonderful experience - I'll always be in her debt for the insights, challenges, and support she gave me, and her invariable sense of humour.

After graduation, and whilst working as a Management Consultant, I kept up a strong interest in the history of science - and eventually, over a drink with my friend Julia, decided on a Grand Plan to start a history of science society in London for people like us. It would be relaxed, informal, friendly, and aimed at people who have an interest in science and where it came from, whilst not necessarily studying it or having studied it in the past.

The result, of course, is the London History of Science Society, which enjoyed a Golden Era for about a year after its launch, during which we attended lots of events, and produced two editions of our Society magazine, Phaeton (of which - as Editor - I am inordinately proud). Some of the highlights of this period were attending a number of lectures by the Royal Institution and the Royal Society; visits to the Foundling Museum and the Wellcome Collection; and various dinner parties hosted by members of the Society.

Since then, however, things have gone distinctly off the boil, mainly due to other commitments: Julia had her finals and then transmogrified into an ACTUAL junior doctor in Birmingham; Sam's been spending a lot of time on the Darwin Correspondence Project; Michael is doing his hero work for HALO; and I got a new job...

Obviously then, since my excuse is the weakest, it's my responsibility to get motivated and stir up some activity - I don't deny it, and can only apologise that it's taken so long.

So, the ideas I have at the moment are:

• Chelsea Physic Garden - sometime in the Spring?
• The 'War+Medicine' exhibition at the Wellcome Collection - on until 15 February 2009
• 'The Age of Wonder' - an RI talk on the 19 January 2009

I hope that others are interested in these activities and will post them as news on the LHOSS website in the next few days. I really hope that we can get back to the frequency of Society events (~8 per year) that we had after launching - it was really fun and it would be a real shame if the Society fizzled out through lack of effort or interest...

Nazi research and 18th century navigation: Phaeton magazine, Issue Two

Having registered with Scribd, I thought I'd have a play...

This is the second issue of a magazine I produced a couple of years ago for the London History of Science Society (which I founded with a friend). The society hasn't done much recently, but I expect it'll get revived at some point!

Anyway, if you've never seen it before, enjoy:

Phaeton magazine Issue 02

Publish at Scribd or explore others: Magazines & Newspape navigation naziresearch

Surgeons Remove Tree Growing in Man's Lung

From The Lay Scientist blog:.

Surgeons performing a biopsy a suspected tumour in the lung of a 28-year-old Russian were astonished to find a two inch fir tree growing inside the mass. The patient had been complaining of chest pains, and presented coughing up blood.

Liar Liar: Jim Carrey on 'anecdotal' link between autism and MMR vaccine

From a referral by PZ Myers, I saw this "simperingly stupid" column by Jim Carrey on the Huffington Post - another example of the media's MMR hoax.

What a prick:

In this growing crisis, we cannot afford to blindly trumpet the agenda of the CDC, the American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) or vaccine makers. Now more than ever, we must resist the urge to close this book before it's been written. The anecdotal evidence of millions of parents who've seen their totally normal kids regress into sickness and mental isolation after a trip to the pediatrician's office must be seriously considered.

It made me angry given that (a) there is no scientific basis for a link between autism and the MMR vaccine and conversely (b) there is a very clear rise in the number of children contracting preventable diseases since MMR vaccination has declined.

A non-moronic comment from someone who does know about vaccination:

Professor David Salisbury, director of immunisation at the Department of Health, said it was "irresponsible" for parents not to have their children vaccinated.
He said: "I think it's irrational, I think it's putting children's lives at risk. I can see no shred of benefit. There is no evidence that having vaccines separately is better. There are good reasons why it's worse."

I doubt Carrey will ever feel anything except smug self-righteousness about his promotion of the MMR hoax, but it will add to the unnecessary and totally preventable deaths of children from measles, mumps, and rubella.

For this reason, from now on I will never watch any of his movies and urge others to do the same.

UPDATE 23/04/09: excellent response to Carrey's column by Orac.

Why I hate popular science reporting

As part of my effort to reduce the backlog of unread books in my life, I'm currently reading Bad Science, a fantastic book by Ben Goldacre, who also writes a column for The Guardian, and a blog, both of the same name.

Given the topic - the endemic misunderstanding and misrepresentation of science in society and the media - I thought that I would re-publish an article I wrote in November 2006 in the first edition of Phaeton, the London History of Science Society's magazine, which (not coincidentally) I edit. It touches on many of the same themes as Ben's book.

What's interesting is that I only began reading Bad Science (the column and blog) after I wrote the article [I've no idea how I missed it for so long - I blame my parents for being readers of The Torygraph :-)].

Anyway, despite independent thinking, there's an eerie similarity between the points that Ben and I make, and I'm very chuffed. When I write the full article I'll compare and contrast our views but in the meantime I hope that the original article is of some interest...

- - - - - - - - - - -

Why I hate popular science reporting - by Nick Seeber, Phaeton, Issue 1 (Nov 2006)

I hate popular science reporting.

My friends find this odd. As a self-professed science geek, surely I should love reading about discoveries being made by scientists doing cutting-edge research in weird and wonderful fields of human endeavour? Surely I should applaud the effort to bring an interest in science to the masses: to allow several generations, who in the most part are completely baffled by even the most rudimentary science, to take part in the thrill of scientific knowledge and technological achievement?

Maybe I should – it’s demonstrably obvious that the general level of science knowledge shown by even supposedly well-educated non-scientists is pretty appalling. Ask an English student to explain the first law of thermodynamics and they’ll probably reply ‘thermo-what?’, even though this is the science equivalent of asking who wrote “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known” or maybe even enquiring who fictionally said “To be or not to be – that is the question”.

Any university student worth their salt, regardless of their subject, would be expected to know that the answers are respectively (for those of you still thinking) Dickens in A Tale of Two Cities and Shakespeare’s Hamlet; but no-one would expect anyone but a chemist or physicist to be able to explain the concept of entropy, a fundamental principle of thermo-dynamics. Science knowledge is limited almost exclusively to scientists – it isn’t taken for granted in the way that, say, knowledge of history or literature are amongst the general educated public. 

Surely this widespread and almost pathological ignorance requires some urgent remedial action by scientists and the media? Perhaps there should be more documentaries on interesting science research or more news coverage of high-tech discoveries? I disagree. The state of affairs where most people know very little about science has come about not because science is innately difficult to understand, but as a result of the well-cultivated perception that the process of doing science is somehow special or unique and that scientists think and act in a way that is fundamentally different to other people. 

Which, of course, is all garbage.

The basis for the contemporary dichotomy of belief – that science is at once both specially challenging and also boring or tedious – has its roots, I believe, in the unique way in which science is reported to the general public, and in the way scientists choose to portray themselves.  

When researching my dissertation, a study of various scientific research projects involving high-tech imaging of archaeological artefacts, I read numerous ‘popular science’ articles written in broadsheet newspapers and magazines covering these projects. Unusually for me, in this case I was in the privileged position of having done a good deal of independent personal research into the projects.

I could see, therefore, which aspects of the projects these articles were reporting and, far more interestingly, which they were leaving out. In the process, I reached a number of conclusions about the unwritten rules which seem to dictate the way such articles are written. Handily, I’ve summarised them here:

• Patronise your reading audience by assuming that none of them will be interested in anything more than a cursory summary of the scientific concepts being discussed. Focus instead on something frivolous or irrelevant, even if it has only a tenuous link to the subject matter.

• Rather than treating the project or endeavour as a collaborative effort, make the focus of the article an obsequious mini-biography of the project leader, usually culled from a personal interview. If at all possible, make out that he is uniquely brilliant in his chosen field.

• Describe the possible outcomes of the project in the rosiest of terms and always be optimistic when making claims about the effects of new technology on standards of living.

• Never criticise or seriously question the scientists or their goals.

This reverent, deferential way of reporting on science has the undesirable effect of putting scientists on a special intellectual pedestal and in the process removing them from the healthy criticism of a free press, to which all other projects in the public domain are subjected.

Imagine an article on a politician’s pet project (EU subsidies, say, or regional devolution, or more cheap housing in rural areas, or whatever) written in the same style as such journalistic reports on science projects or theories.

It would be ridiculous.

It would be ridiculous because reporting in this way is not responsible or ethical: it doesn’t convey the whole picture of what ordinary science is about, in the same way that a politician’s report on his own projects could never be relied upon to provide a balanced critique of his own activity.

By airbrushing human traits such as greed, laziness, incompetence, avarice and even everyday office politics from the reporting of science, journalists are doing the public a grave disservice. We need ‘the dirt’ on science in the same way that we need the dirt on politicians and corporate figures; as the basis for making informed decisions about how much we trust them to be acting on our behalf.

A large amount of science is funded directly or indirectly by the government – so many scientists do in essence work for us, the general public. We have a right to know about the science they are doing, reported not in black and white, but in realistic shades of grey. Extremist treatment of science in the press, as either all good or all bad, results in the public outrage seen when a scientific institution or project spectacularly fails to deliver on its promises. This sort of reporting is hypocrisy – seeing what is with the rose-tinted spectacles of what should be, where what should be is a carefully cultivated myth generated by the scientific establishment to legitimise itself and inoculate the public against criticism of science.

Science should be able to provide clear-cut answers; it should be able to make the world a better place in which to live; it should provide cures for disease and end poverty; but without a public willing and able to make science a tool of democracy and not the other way around, science does not and cannot accomplish these goals. Unless science is treated with the same realistic expectations and is subjected to the same criticisms as other fields, the unique position in which it sits, alternately idealised and demonised, will remain unchallenged.

So, the reason I hate popular science reporting is that when I read it, I feel like I’m being brainwashed. I wish that science journalists would take off the kid gloves and actually investigate their stories. I wish that they would develop balanced perspectives rather than simply repeating, verbatim and unquestioned, what a scientist involved in the project wants them to report.

Why don’t they ask the difficult questions, the ones the scientists would prefer not to have to answer? Why don’t they demand more than slick sound bites and clever-looking diagrams that distract readers from the real, crunch questions?

Maybe, the problem is that essentially there are (with some exceptions, of course) two sorts of people who report on science: scientists, who don’t want to ask difficult questions for fear of somehow “damaging the public image of science” (which, after all, provides the basis for their expertise); and non-scientists, who simply don’t have enough science education to know which questions to ask or to be able to tell when they are being fed misleading information. Neither can realistically be expected to provide adequate journalistic coverage of science.

I don’t know how this situation can be remedied, but I can offer some opinions. A good start would be a mandatory course in philosophy of science for all science undergraduates (on which subject I am unashamedly partisan, having studied History and Philosophy of Science at the best HPS department in the world). Students of philosophy of science gain an appreciation of the underlying problems facing scientific enquiry which are not discussed by scientists themselves: questions like what is science?; what makes experimental knowledge special?; how can anything be known for certain?; what’s wrong with thinking that past experience allows us to predict the future?. These are questions which scientists don’t usually ask themselves, but which inculcate a more sophisticated understanding of how science functions as a human, social, political activity.

Even reading some key texts – maybe Thomas S. Kuhn’s  paradigm-creating The Structure of Scientific Revolutions or Theodore Roszak’s thought-provoking The Makings of a Counter Culture – would be an excellent start.

All people, not just scientists, must understand that science is ultimately a socially-mediated enterprise, prey to the effects of personal foibles and the influence of charisma just like all other human activities. Scientific truth is rarely, if ever, absolute: and science should not be a religion, requiring doctrinal faith and implicitly or explicitly forbidding criticism.

To thrive, science necessitates internal conflict and disagreement, a dynamic equilibrium which promotes creativity and free thought. To understand that it is this permanent warfare of ideas that makes science so interesting, the public must be shown that science is not a staid cumulative progression from Aristotle to Copernicus to Newton to Einstein, but rather a battle ground in which only the strongest or best supported ideas and theories will survive.

The sooner science is taken from its pedestal, the better.

The London History of Science Society: 2006-present

As the London History of Science Society website has been relatively dormant for the last year or so, I thought that it might be worth giving an update on why everything's gone a bit quiet. Also, for those who are curious about the Society and where it came from, and might like to get involved in the future, I'd like to give an outline of the sorts of activities we've had in the past and what's planned in the New Year.

As some of you will know, for my degree course I studied the history of science at Cambridge, at the Department for the History and Philosophy of Science (HPS). Despite its international renown, the Department has a cosy and friendly feel, and is very welcoming to new students and visitors. The Whipple Museum is an essential stop for any trip to Cambridge - if you haven't visited before, you really should.

During the time I was, studying the kind, charismatic, and inspirational Peter Lipton was running the Department, whose premature death in 2007 was a great blow not only to his family and friends but also to the Department and indeed the field of philosopy, within which he was an intellectual giant and highly respected authority. [For those who would like to learn more about this wonderful man's life, see the obituaries on the HPS website and in the major broadsheet papers].

I was privileged to hear Professor Lipton's superb lectures on epistemology and the problem of induction in my second year, and was sorely tempted to specialise in the study of philosophy of science in my final year - but in the end plumped for history of science and have never regretted it.

The beauty of the HPS undergraduate course is the ability to take three different modules in the final year, which can be mixed and matched in any combination according to the interests of the student. For me it was easy to narrow down the options to the four pure history of science modules (Classical Traditions in the Sciences - from Antiquity to the Renaissance; Scientific Revolution / Enlightenment Science; 19th century science; 20th Century Science & Technology) - but then choosing which one to drop was very tough indeed.

In the end I chose the courses which were taught by my favorite lecturers - Eleanor Robson, Jon Agar [now at UCL], Lauren Kassell, and Simon Schaffer - which meant dropping the 19th century science, though I did attend quite a few of the lecture series.

I was also lucky enough to be supervised by Eleanor for my dissertation (on the contemporary use of medical imaging techniques to 'read' ancient textual artefects) and it was a wonderful experience - I'll always be in her debt for the insights, challenges, and support she gave me, and her invariable sense of humour.

After graduation, and whilst working as a Management Consultant, I kept up a strong interest in the history of science - and eventually, over a drink with my friend Julia, decided on a Grand Plan to start a history of science society in London for people like us. It would be relaxed, informal, friendly, and aimed at people who have an interest in science and where it came from, whilst not necessarily studying it or having studied it in the past.

The result, of course, is the London History of Science Society, which enjoyed a Golden Era for about a year after its launch, during which we attended lots of events, and produced two editions of our Society magazine, Phaeton (of which - as Editor - I am inordinately proud). Some of the highlights of this period were attending a number of lectures by the Royal Institution and the Royal Society; visits to the Foundling Museum and the Wellcome Collection; and various dinner parties hosted by members of the Society.

Since then, however, things have gone distinctly off the boil, mainly due to other commitments: Julia had her finals and then transmogrified into an ACTUAL junior doctor in Birmingham; Sam's been spending a lot of time on the Darwin Correspondence Project; Michael is doing his hero work for HALO; and I got a new job...

Obviously then, since my excuse is the weakest, it's my responsibility to get motivated and stir up some activity - I don't deny it, and can only apologise that it's taken so long.

So, the ideas I have at the moment are:

• Chelsea Physic Garden - sometime in the Spring?
• The 'War+Medicine' exhibition at the Wellcome Collection - on until 15 February 2009
• 'The Age of Wonder' - an RI talk on the 19 January 2009

I hope that others are interested in these activities and will post them as news on the LHOSS website in the next few days. I really hope that we can get back to the frequency of Society events (~8 per year) that we had after launching - it was really fun and it would be a real shame if the Society fizzled out through lack of effort or interest...