Arquivo da tag: Manipulação da incerteza

“Report on the State of Scholarship in the Humanities and the Humanistic Social Sciences” Controversy, June 2026

https://www.chronicle.com/article/has-the-left-ruined-the-humanities

A Hot Question

Has the Left Ruined the Humanities? (The Chronicle of Higher Education)

By Andy Thomason and Stephanie M. Lee

June 5, 2026

Illustration by The Chronicle

You’ve heard the critique.

The humanities and social sciences have been corrupted by political aims, and their disciplines have tossed out rigorous research standards in favor of advancing social-justice causes favored by the political left. This has made for an impoverished scholarly landscape, filled with laughable claims and obscure jargon.

Over the past several months, a group of high-profile scholars convened privately to study whether this criticism holds water across several fields within the humanities and social sciences. “The first thing to say,” they concluded in a report published Friday, “is that we reject the complaint in this bald form.”

However, the group found reason for concern — a “mixed picture” that validates portions of the criticism. “Every field we have studied,” the group wrote, exhibits warning signs pointing to “a deterioration in scholarly standards fueled by the substitution of political criteria for properly scholarly criteria in the assessment of research and a more general repudiation of longstanding ideals of rigor and objectivity.”

That conclusion is sure to spur debate, not least because it comes on the heels of another prominent attempt to investigate the causes of widespread distrust in higher education. In April, Yale University released a report that struck similar self-flagellating notes, arguing that academics need to “admit where we have been wrong.”

What’s unique about this latest effort is who convened the group: Daniel Diermeier, chancellor of Vanderbilt University, and Andrew D. Martin, chancellor of Washington University in St. Louis, outspoken proponents of the view that colleges have become too political. Martin told The Chronicle that he and Diermeier have heard many faculty members and others express concern about the humanities and the qualitative social sciences. “So we thought a reasonable thing to do would be to pull together a group of scholarly experts to look at the issue,” he said, “to produce a report not meant to end conversation, but actually to begin conversations on campuses around the country.” Their findings, he said, did not surprise him.

In August, the two chancellors charged a group, selected and led by the New York University philosopher Paul Boghossian, with determining whether “the steady drumbeat of complaints about the deterioration of scholarly standards” within the humanities and social sciences “are justified.” For its work, the group — which included Kwame Anthony Appiah, another NYU philosophy professor, and the Princeton University historian Sean Wilentz, among others — wrote field-specific internal reports about philosophy, anthropology, sociology, history, literary studies, and music studies, relying on “extensive research” in consultation with other experts. The summary report drew on those reports for its conclusions.

That report is front-loaded with caveats. The humanities are essential, for one, and contain serious scholarship. Administrators should also be cautious about taking action in response to its findings, the scholars wrote, and instead consult disciplinary experts for deeper study.

The report presents three sources of politicized distortion: when research must be constrained by an “accepted political goal,” when the disinterested pursuit of knowledge is “displaced by” the goal of serving “a pragmatic purpose,” and rejecting the very idea that one is capable of assessing evidence on a claim “independently of our political commitments.”

The scholars cite anthropology as a potent example of the first source, quoting a 2021 speech from the president of the American Anthropological Association then who said the field’s “political project is to challenge the culturally dominant commonsense of capitalist consumerism.” These sorts of definitions — and the subtler ways that they manifest — result in the sometimes-unconscious censorship of scholarship that doesn’t serve the political goal, the report says.

More broadly, the report condemns what it calls the widespread embrace of postmodernism and relativism among scholars as antithetical to their very project. And it traces postmodernism’s appeal, in part, to the permission it grants scholars to discard evidence they don’t find personally palatable.

The authors of the report are careful to distinguish themselves from those who think the primary problem with academe is political imbalance. The fact that academics “are significantly more liberal or progressive than the general public” is “not by itself a problem for scholarship.” In an email, Boghossian added that “the solution is to restore a conception of scholarship in the humanities that is as free of ideological distortion as possible.”

Universities exist to support disinterested inquiry, the report concludes, and the obstacles it names in fulfilling that mission are serious. “They are not mere problems in the administration or operation of a university,” the scholars write, “but strike at the very heart and soul of what a university should be for.”

In an interview, Diermeier said he has also been concerned about universities suppressing the free speech of speakers and making public statements about political issues. “What the report has indicated is that there’s growing evidence that the problem of polarization in higher education is real, that it affects scholarship, that it affects teaching, that it affects publications and publication practices,” he said. “These are serious concerns, and they need to be addressed.”

Diermeier said Boghossian was chosen to lead the effort after he read and was “extremely impressed” by Boghossian’s 2006 book Fear of Knowledge: Against Relativism and Constructivism. Boghossian did not answer questions about how he in turn selected the participating scholars and the disciplines analyzed. The field-specific reports that undergird the summary report were not released Friday but may be soon, Diermeier said.

The scholars were compensated for their work, according to Martin, though he declined to comment on how much they were paid or where the funding came from.

Martin said he’d received a mix of praise and criticism in the first hours after the report went live. “I deeply value my colleagues in the humanities and in the qualitative social sciences and the great value that they bring to our students and bring to our institutions and to the country more generally,” he said. “I think at this moment of self-reflection, I’m hopeful that this document will be a catalyst to get those important conversations to take place.”

Read the report:

https://cdn.vanderbilt.edu/vu-wpfsx/wp-content/uploads/sites/51/2026/06/State-of-Scholarship-Report-final.pdf

A version of this article appeared in the June 19, 2026, issue.

Update (June 5, 2026, 5:18 p.m.): This article has been updated with remarks from Andrew D. Martin, chancellor of Washington University in St. Louis; Daniel Diermeier, chancellor of Vanderbilt University; and Paul Boghossian, a New York University philosophy professor.


https://www.chronicle.com/article/is-anthropology-hopelessly-politicized

Is Anthropology Hopelessly Politicized? (The Chronicle of Higher Education)

The leader of the field’s scholarly society has a lot to say.

By Stephanie M. Lee

July 10, 2026

A month ago, 10 high-profile scholars released a document — titled “Report on the State of Scholarship in the Humanities and the Humanistic Social Sciences” — that lit up a million scholarly group chats. The chancellors of Vanderbilt University and Washington University in St. Louis, vocal critics of the purported politicization of higher education, charged the group with evaluating a number of disciplines for signs of political skew. The conclusion: All the fields showed “a deterioration in scholarly standards fueled by the substitution of political criteria for properly scholarly criteria in the assessment of research and a more general repudiation of longstanding ideals of rigor and objectivity.”

But one field was singled out as “the most extreme case” — anthropology. Compared to philosophy, sociology, history, literary studies, and music studies, the discipline showed “a pervasive repudiation of ideals of objectivity together with a toxic intellectual climate in which reasonable dissent on politically charged topics is routinely suppressed and punished.” The authors cited writings from several anthropologists, a speech by a recent president of the American Anthropological Association, and an AAA panel about biological sex that was canceled in 2023, among other things. The report described itself as a summary of reports, specific to each field. (Only one, on literary studies, has been released; it was posted after this interview was conducted.)

Six days after the report went online, the AAA fired back with a full-throated defense. “Anthropologists welcome rigorous critique of the discipline,” wrote its president, Carolyn M. Rouse. “What we cannot accept is a sweeping verdict about anthropology’s intellectual culture, scholarly practices, and professional norms built on selective evidence and issued without consultation.”

Rouse is an anthropology professor at Princeton University who researches race and inequality in religion, medicine, education, and economic development. In 2016 and 2017, she went viral for leading a walkout of a speech by the political scientist Charles Murray, and for delivering a lecture titled “F%*# Free Speech,” in which she argued that free-speech absolutism does not exist. Rouse was elected president-elect of the AAA in 2023, and assumed the role last year. The Chronicle asked her about her views on the Vanderbilt report and the questions it raises about her field. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

It’s an embarrassment of embarrassments.

I was interested in your top-line reaction to reading that, of all the disciplines they studied, the authors singled out anthropology as the most extreme case of “widespread deterioration in scholarly standards grounded in a pervasive repudiation of ideals of objectivity together with a toxic intellectual climate in which reasonable dissent on politically charged topics is routinely suppressed and punished.”

They used AI. It’s an embarrassment of embarrassments. I don’t know what methods they used. They do not distinguish a fact from a truth from wisdom. They don’t define their terms like “politics.” It’s pretty clear, actually, that they didn’t just search for some combination of words that would validate their own beliefs, but I don’t think they even bothered to read more of the person’s work or try to understand it in the context. I can’t defend anthropology, because this is such a poorly researched report that’s so unreflexive, lacking in any rigor, and it reminds me of why scholars need to pull back from AI. It reminded me of some of the papers I’ve been getting from my students, where I have to pull them in and say, “I think you’ve used AI,” so it’s really hard for me to take this report seriously. At the same time, unserious things right now have so much power in the academy.

So I thought you were being facetious when you said they used AI, but it reads to you like they used an LLM to write this?

In The Chronicle of Higher Education report, “Inside the Report That’s Divided the Academy,” by Evan Goldstein and Len Gutkin, on June 11, Anthony Appiah says that they used AI.

Appiah says, “We did a fair amount of research, including research using new artificial-intelligence methods to survey large bodies of text and see what was in them, and to identify themes and so on.” Is that what you’re referring to?

Even before we read that, we were all thinking, “This reads like they used AI.”

OK, so the writing of it, in addition, sounded to you like AI? Because I think here he’s describing research.

Research. Anthropology has been in existence for — in the U.S., American anthropology has really existed for over 100 years. Now we have a large body of literature. They don’t know what anthropology is.

And the biological anthropologist who is on it, he has his own quirkiness. I think my colleague Agustín Fuentes does a great job of responding to that in The Chronicle of Higher Education on June 12.

Can I ask what you think about Joseph Henrich, the sole anthropologist on this commission? Had you heard of him? Were you aware of him having some kind of reputation or something prior to this?

No.

OK. So theoretically the field-specific individual reports may be released at some point. How do you feel about the prospect of seeing the anthropology report that Dr. Henrich presumably wrote?

If I’m still the president, and they present it, I should be interested to read it. I still don’t know what he’s doing. I’m a socio-cultural anthropologist, and these people who are philosophers or whatever feel completely comfortable criticizing a discipline they don’t really understand. I would never do that. I’ve been relying on wonderful pieces by people who actually know, like Michael Bérubé in the Pittsburgh Review of Books. And then Jason Stanley also wrote something, and it was so interesting, because I realized so much of this is insider analytical philosophy baseball.

They have this weird cut-out for Socrates, as if in ancient Greece and ancient Rome, they did this kind of Ivy League dispassionate theorizing. I love Hannah Arendt’s The Human Condition, and she’s somebody I rely on to think through some questions as I do ethnography. You know what’s interesting about ancient Greece, is that the polis, and the place where people used language to deal with things rather than violence, and that new thing that was established, was wonderful. But she also notes that the people who were loud in that space were men, and the only reason they were fed and clothed and everything else is because they had slaves and women. They could have lofty ideals about democracy. But the private space of the home was not a space of democracy. It was a space where men lorded over their slaves and their wives.

These people who are philosophers or whatever feel completely comfortable criticizing a discipline they don’t really understand.

One of the critiques I mentioned was that [the Vanderbilt authors] say that the reason we have the humanities is because we want to educate citizens to be able to take advantage of their freedom, and so that’s the value, but we don’t like social justice. But social justice is just another refinement of this question about freedom. We’ve just taken it into the 20th and the 21st century. These questions of freedom, where we are saying, “OK, you can’t just have a group of men who rely on slave labor to feed them. We have to think about the freedom of the people who are putting food on the table, cleaning the toilets.” Social justice is about finding a way to have a democracy where whatever freedom — whatever we mean by freedom, right? — the idea that, like, how can you have somebody who’s not going to necessarily even have the kinds of absolutist free speech that a lot of these people, for instance, talk about.

How did you and the AAA come to decide to issue an official response to the Vanderbilt report, and how did that response come together?

When I became president-elect, I ended political-statement writing by the AAA. Just saying, you know, “the State Department should do more about the war in Sudan” — I think that anthropological knowledge production is always nuancing things, and most members are not experts on the Sudan, so why are they signing on to a statement? Our 501(c)(3) mission is to promote anthropology, our scholarship, our members, academic departments, and academic freedom, so let’s stick to our mission when it comes to statements.

So this [Vanderbilt report] falls in our expertise, because they’re attacking our discipline. It’s all a set-up to begin to chip away at the humanities, the social sciences. And universities are doing that, they’re closing departments, they’re merging them. So that’s why immediately we got to work.

Let’s talk about some of the specific critiques that were raised in the Vanderbilt report regarding anthropology, perhaps as a way of talking about these broader issues you have with its conclusion. So, in 2021, then-AAA President Akhil Gupta gave a presidential address where he said anthropology’s “political project is to challenge the culturally dominant commonsense of capitalist consumerism,” and the Vanderbilt report said that this kind of remark is an explicit rejection of “the idea that scholarship aims at knowledge and understanding.” Do you share Dr. Gupta’s conception of anthropology?

Anthropologists love to disagree with one another, so I’m not gonna say I agree or disagree with Akhil. Here’s the thing that I think they don’t understand: We are the instrument for data collection in the same way a Geiger counter detects radiation. We have to do a lot of refining of our instrument, our way of thinking, what we’re doing it for, how we’re seeing it, in order to collect data that we know is, of course, subjective, but uncover some truth. So that’s why we teach our students to be self-reflexive — why you’re doing this, what motivates you, what presumptions did you go into the field with, what do you think this information is going to do for the world? And so actually a lot of our literature is people just kind of sharing with other people, “This is how I’m thinking.” It doesn’t actually compel us to change how we teach methods in the classroom, it doesn’t compel us to change how we do our own fieldwork. It’s simply part of a conversation, because it’s a constant struggle.

It’s all a set-up to begin to chip away at the humanities, the social sciences.

For instance, I have been studying declining white life expectancies in a rural community for 10 years. I’m finishing up. I have two films and a book that are coming out, and I’m a Black woman entering this space, and what are my motivations? What do I see? What do I not see? What do they tell me? What won’t they tell me? For the most part, I only want to do work in places where I feel a sense of hope, and where I like the people — “like” in the sense of I respect them. I don’t want to work in a place where I disrespect people, because then I worry that I’m doing something else. And I’m trying to understand their hopes and aspirations, to understand the delta between their aspirations and the things that they keep doing, so I often say I’m studying “commitment to bad ideas.” Again, I am a Black woman from an elite institution. They know that. They know I’m wealthier than they are, and so there’s a lot going on in these encounters that I need to unpack. And when I had a postdoc work with me, and she went to the same place, because she has studied poor white Appalachians, one of her interlocutors became this guy who’s committed to white racist politics. He sells historical memorabilia and has Confederate flags. She was tapping into a vein in my field site that I will never have access to, which is why we have to be careful, and why we have those conversations ad nauseam. I think about what we’re doing in the field, why, what our commitments are, and what the limits of all of that are. Does that make sense?

The anecdote and the values you’re conveying do make sense. I wanted to understand how this ties back to the quote that the Vanderbilt report pulls. When you’re doing that kind of fieldwork, do you feel like your “political project” — to use his words — is to “challenge the culturally dominant commonsense of capitalist consumerism”?

That’s what he said. Yeah, that’s not what I said.

This is from his presidential address, or the written version of it. Not to be repetitive, but the report highlights this remark and says this remark is a rejection of the idea that “scholarship aims at knowledge and understanding.”

It’s a cherry-picked quote. They misquoted him, that’s what he says.

I mean, I wasn’t in the audience for this speech, either, but he published a version of this address —

I’ve read it, I’ve quoted from it.

So that quote is in there, you know.

But just because something’s quoted, there’s a whole context. There’s so much more than that. This is the problem with absolutist free speech. We talk in contexts. Speech is never free. Speech is always connected to something else. And here’s an example from a recent thing that I read in The New York Times about this woman from Texas who’s Muslim, and wanted to have a pool party for the end of Eid. She was so focused on the Muslim community and their fears about their kids being in bathing suits and around people who weren’t pious that she wrote “Muslims Only.” She was so focused on that and those concerns, that when people outside of it read it, it read like “only whites” or “only Blacks,” or it read as something else. She just wasn’t attending to that context. So we’re speaking to an audience that has a particular understanding of the history of the discipline, recent struggles and debates within the discipline. There’s so much going on in that conversation that to just swoop in, grab a quote, and go out — I think it’s unfair. I could swoop in, go to a sociology conference, a history conference, grab a quote, and go, “Look what they said,” and it’s just missing all the context in history.

In the AAA’s response to the Vanderbilt report, you wrote “the committee did not contact the American Anthropological Association, not its elected leadership, not its editors, not the broad range of scholars who comprise the discipline.” You called this a “central methodological failure.” So, if the committee had contacted the AAA, what would you have told them?

I would track-change a lot of it, give feedback, but I would demand methods. So, if I were a social scientist doing this research, first of all, I’d want a sampling of universities across the country, and there are religious universities, you know, Liberty University, Wheaton [College], right? So we’d want public and private, we’d want a representative sample from all of these different colleges, universities along what we would call a political spectrum — even though we know it’s not red and blue in the way that we think about it — but like that. Then I would collect syllabi from maybe one intro course and one upper-level course, and you try to make that consistent and in different disciplines, a lot. Then I would interview the professor of the class. Then I would do observations of the class, and actually see the kinds of conversations. That would be the beginning of a systematic study. There’s nothing close to that.

Speech is never free. Speech is always connected to something else.

The Yale report [Ed.: In April, a Yale faculty committee published a report about “trust in higher education”] has a section on politics in the classroom. They actually did methods that were robust. They interviewed hundreds of people affiliated with Yale in different ways. They come up with a nuanced understanding of what’s going on in the classroom, and nobody who they interviewed wanted the classroom to be an echo chamber. So that’s what happens when you start actually interviewing people. And as anthropologists, you have to do more than interview, you have to observe, too — the educational outcomes, what the professor’s doing. If you were to just have AI capture all of the texts that are being taught — I assign texts I disagree with, so you don’t know, just by grabbing that, whether I’m teaching with it, against it, beside it, whatever way I’m teaching it.

On that note, your statement also said that there’s “substantial and active literature that contradicts or at least complexifies the assertions made by the report, literature that would have been immediately apparent to anyone who consulted working scholars in the field.” What’s a citation or two you would recommend to that effect? And what’s the different view of anthropology that they would show?

Well, the first thing that came to my mind was my own recent paper. It’s called “An Anti-Genealogical Take on U.S. Anthropology and Disciplinary Reform: From Anti-Racism to Decolonization.” I wrote, “The ‘decolonizing generation’ is a critical new movement that has captured the imaginations of many younger scholars. While the author would like to consider herself an older member of this generation, she questions whether this moment needs periodization. Is today’s moment really so different from the past, when we saw the rise of world anthropologies, postmodernism, the crisis in representation, neo-Marxism, and anti-racist movements? And what is meant by ‘decolonizing anthropology’ when experiences with colonialism and decolonization differ around the world? While acknowledging the value of reforming the discipline, the author encourages her colleagues to separate the very important critique of anthropologists’ gatekeeping practices from idealized renderings of what anthropology should be. Rather than decolonization, the discipline ought to focus on establishing a continual decentering of hegemonic knowledge production.”

To me, that’s just a typical thing in our discipline — we’re debating each other in a friendly way.

In 2023, the AAA canceled an accepted panel at its annual conference, titled “Let’s Talk About Sex, Baby: Why Biological Sex Remains a Necessary Analytic Category in Anthropology.” The AAA said at the time that the panel would have harmed members’ “safety and dignity,” and that its premise contradicted “settled science.” The Vanderbilt report cited this incident to argue that when politically charged questions “are treated as settled by the scholarly community, the result is an illegitimate suppression of dissent.” You were elected president-elect of the AAA shortly after that incident. Do you regret today the fact that the AAA canceled that panel, or the justification that it gave for canceling it?

There’s a point in that Vanderbilt report where they talk about astronomy departments becoming astrology departments. All you need to do is literally type into Google and see that we know, factually, that there are different types of “sexes” and “genders.” You can have XY and you present as a woman, you can have XXY — they’re all variations, genetic variations. So the idea that there are two sexes is just factually incorrect, and to force biological anthropologists to teach that is the equivalent of turning an astronomy department into an astrology department. So I don’t know why we’re debating that. You may not like it. I don’t know, maybe you want to kill babies that aren’t just XX presenting XX or XY presenting XY, but that’s what we have in this world. And then we have people who identify with genders that don’t match to their chromosomes, and people like Anthony Appiah, who are gay, and so I don’t know what they want, why they want us to teach in that way — that’s the equivalent of turning an astronomy department into an astrology department.

Anthropology humanizes people. It doesn’t dehumanize people.

The second question: It should never have been accepted. At this point, we are demanding that people do good peer review, because that’s what happened — they slacked on the peer review.

OK. So on the question of this particular idea being “settled science,” as the AAA said at the time, there was a survey in 2022, published in the journal Forensic Anthropology, that asked forensic anthropologists about this question, and 42 percent of them said they agree that sex is binary, and 56 percent disagreed that it’s binary. So that ratio would seem to indicate that, in the field, the question hadn’t actually been settled, and I was wondering how you explain that.

I don’t believe in opinion research. Not to disparage them, but a lot of forensic people, they’re coroners, they’re doing it in a practicing level, where they’re actually asked on forms to determine whether this body is male or female, oftentimes they haven’t had advanced schooling. Things are in the air. I just don’t trust opinion polling. That’s from just being an anthropologist and spending a lot of time with people in the field. People don’t know a lot.

So I guess the question we’re trying to unpack here is, how do we know when something is astronomy versus astrology, right? So I want to ask you about this question —

Let me ask the question back to you. Is it XX and then XY? Is that the binary?

I think it’s defined in different ways.

Well, it’s two, binary means two. So, what are the two? One is XX and one is XY, but we know that there are more than that. That’s not binary. I mean, isn’t that a mathematical fact? I don’t know how else to make the case. It’s very strange to me. I don’t what people are — why that matters to people so much. You know, genetic variation is an interesting thing.

Getting to the slightly larger principle that’s being debated in this kind of debate is what “nonsensical speech” is, to use a phrase that you’ve used before. I was reading your essay from last year, “Meaningless Speech and Political Capture.” Academic freedom, you said, is different from freedom of speech or absolutist free speech. You said, “Why should professors be forced to waste class time on nonsense?” You wrote, “I do not want my students to be punished, but I want to be able to let them know that relitigating the value of Nazism, slavery, Jim Crow, Japanese internment, eugenics, or McCarthyism is not appropriate in a class on, for example, development. Those were all failed policies, so let’s move on.” In that same essay, you also wrote that the concept that “there are only two sexes” is an example of “nonsensical speech.” So I guess I was wondering how you or how the AAA decides what is “nonsensical speech,” or how you define “nonsensical.”

So I think those are two things. One is nonsensical, one is discussion about dehumanization in the classroom. I can’t have somebody in the classroom who is, let’s say, was born with some kind of condition that means that they are nonverbal, but super smart and super capable, and in a wheelchair, and then have a debate about whether or not they should have been aborted. Sure, there are debates like that online. Go for it, students. But anthropology humanizes people. It doesn’t dehumanize people. We’re not teaching empathy, we’re teaching that humans are very diverse. I mean, if people become empathetic as a result, that’s fine, but we’re teaching that people are diverse, just like you. Their value system is built not on an objectively rational set of values, but these values work in this way to sustain this group around this set of material things and rituals. So we humanize people, and we’ve done that since we pushed back against eugenics in the early 20th century, the discipline. So I’m not going to relitigate these things with my students. And I knew when I gave the “F%*# Free Speech” talk, people were talking about absolute free speech, that this was where we were heading — to a place where we brought back, and we’re bringing back, ideas of Black biological, intellectual, and cultural inferiority, and we’re exhausted. I’m exhausted. We call it Whac-a-Mole, and it prevents us from being able to do more creative stuff, because we’re constantly tethered to having to react to some new reactionary piece of data.

If Princeton decided that we really want to open up the classroom to thinking about internment again for certain populations, based upon their phenotype, I’d have to leave. We’ve done these things before. They didn’t end well. So, if I’m having a class on development where we’re trying to think about ways to make a better world, why would I engage dehumanization as a possible strategy?

We’re not just trying to change their minds. That’s a caricature.

So just to connect the dots, the matter of binary sex — to you, that is as done with, or over with, as Japanese internment or eugenics?

OK, so one is dehumanization, the other one is factual. So I still don’t know what people mean. If binary is two things, male, female, XY, XX, and we have more than that, then doesn’t that mean it’s not a binary? I’m just confused about that. That’s just a factual thing. There’s the work on race and biology, people don’t understand. It takes me a whole semester of my race and biology class, and when they get it, they get it, and they’re like, “Oh my goodness,” they can’t believe how wrong most of what they have been taught is.

I disabuse people of things like “Black community.” There’s no “Black community.” So I disabuse students of a lot of presumptions, so we’re not an echo chamber, we’re not a podcast, we’re not funded by this mysterious organization called Antifa that doesn’t exist. Again, another fact, right? Can we stick with facts? We’re not just trying to change their minds. That’s a caricature. This is why, if you did this data on what’s actually happening in the classroom, you need to actually get into people’s classrooms. You need to read their syllabi. So there’s a lot of caricaturing of academia, and I feel like this report is just — they’re just using those caricatures and cherry-picking whatever they can find that seems good, that seems right, without truly engaging a whole history of a discipline, like English or anthropology.

In the AAA’s response to the Vanderbilt report, you wrote that anthropology contains “vigorous and ongoing debates about theory, evidence, ethics, method, public engagement, and the future of the discipline itself.” Is there any contradiction between those stated values and the cancellation of the panel in 2023?

Rigorous debate with factual information, or rigorous debate with just people who like to troll people on social media? I think one of the people in [the panel] is big on right-wing social media. I don’t know, I’m not on social media at all; it just seems like a big waste of time.

I don’t think we’re contradicting ourselves. I think that that panel might never have made it into the program, if it had been peer-reviewed properly.

Properly.

Yes, because I think sometimes people get a little lazy. Things like that are cut all the time in peer review, you never see it. Journalists never see it. I never see it. There’s actually a filter happening all the time. This one just happened to make it into the public space.


https://www.insidehighered.com/news/faculty/research/2026/06/10/professors-say-vanderbilt-report-misrepresents-their-work

June 10, 2026

Cited Professors Say the Vanderbilt Report Misrepresents Their Work (Inside Higher Ed)

The report on the state of humanities scholarship has generated a lot of debate in academic circles and received backlash from the leading anthropology association.

By  Emma Whitford

The Vanderbilt report authors single out more than a dozen humanities scholars and use their work to highlight what they consider problematic scholarship. Photo illustration by Justin Morrison/Inside Higher Ed | autsawin, Davizro and SilverV/iStock/Getty Images

A new report on the state of humanities scholarship made waves in higher ed circles when it was released Friday, and has since drawn criticism from professors across the humanities.

Commissioned by Vanderbilt University chancellor Daniel Diermeier and Washington University in St. Louis chancellor Andrew Martin, the “State of Scholarship” report finds fault with disciplines including anthropology, philosophy and history—not for their content but for the quality of their scholarship, which the report’s authors argue is too often driven by political ideology rather than the pursuit of truth and knowledge. 

In an email to Inside Higher Ed, Diermeier said that “the focus of the report is to provide an assessment, not to offer solutions to address the challenges.”

Critiques of the report are broad and varied. National Association of Scholars research director David Randall said the authors rehash decades-old arguments against relativism and don’t go far enough in their recommendations to reform the humanities. “If they’re actually serious about academic reform, they will act rather than sponsor more faculty gab-fests,” he wrote of Diermeier and Martin. Pennsylvania State University communications professor Bradford Vivian wrote on Bluesky that “a better title for the Vanderbilt report on the humanities would be [William F. Buckley Jr.’s] ‘God and Man at Yale Part II.’” Others, including the American Anthropological Association, slammed the report for exemplifying the ivory tower and criticized the authors for failing to truly engage with the professors in the fields they target. Several of the scholars cited in the report said it represents the poor scholarship it claims to seek to correct.

Diermeier and Martin asked Paul Boghossian, a philosophy professor at New York University, to examine “the state of scholarly work” in humanities disciplines to determine whether recent criticisms of the fields are justified. These include allegations that humanists misuse natural science, that some philosophers have embraced “problematic philosophical views” concerning truth, and that humanists have allowed “background ideological values” to distort their pursuit of truth. 

The resulting report—dubbed the “Vanderbilt report”—is addressed to “university chancellors and presidents who are concerned about the state of academic scholarship in the humanities and the social sciences and who may wish, within their purview, to promote excellent scholarship in these vital fields,” according to its preface. The authors reject the common criticisms of the humanities in their broad form, but agree with some of the more particular points. Taken together, the issues the authors identify reflect “a distinctive form of politicization in which the scholarly enterprise is taken to be subordinate to, or in the service of, political (social or moral) goals beyond the advancement of knowledge and understanding,” they wrote. 

Boghossian selected nine other scholars to work with him—three from NYU, two from Princeton University, and one each from Harvard University, the University of Chicago and Northwestern University. Eight of the report’s authors are men and two are women. NYU philosophy professor Kwame Anthony Appiah was the only person of color on the committee. Only one of the report authors—sociologist Ashley Rubin—works at a public institution, the University of Hawaii.

This is a problem, said Asheesh Kapur Siddique, an associate professor of history at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. Siddique had many criticisms of the Vanderbilt report—on Bluesky, he called it “diabolically evil”—but the makeup of the committee that put it together was a primary concern.

“It would be far easier for [the report’s] recommendations to be imposed by a state legislature on a public university” and much harder to impose them on a private institution, Siddique told Inside Higher Ed. “The places where all of these people work will not necessarily have to deal with the recommendations. I think that’s a very telling thing. I actually doubt that many of these scholars would want to work at an institution that would be subject to” political interference inspired by the report.

As soon as the report was released, American Anthropological Association president Carolyn Rouse started hearing from members. Some of them were “incensed,” she said. 

“I’ve heard words like ‘unhinged’” to describe the report, she told Inside Higher Ed. “It’s so badly done—I kept wanting to do ‘track changes’ in it, as if I were grading it like a paper—and yet it has all of this power because of who these [authors] are.” 

The report will hurt anthropology departments that are already fighting to prove their value to administrators, Rouse said. 

“AAA has been working to help departments find strategies to shore up majors by being really articulate about the way in which the major can benefit you if you become a doctor, if you become a lawyer,” Rouse said. For administrators critical of the humanities, “this is just confirmation that they were right, and they will close their anthropology departments.” 

The reaction to the Vanderbilt report doesn’t surprise Martin because it addresses “questions that have been actively debated within higher education for decades,” he told Inside Higher Ed via email. 

“The response reflects the importance of the issues the report raises. Many scholars have engaged thoughtfully with its findings, while others disagree with some aspects of its analysis. That’s healthy,” Martin said. “We expected strong reactions because the humanities and humanistic social sciences are core to how our institutions pursue knowledge and educate students.”

‘Lazy Scholarship’

The authors single out more than a dozen humanities scholars in the report and use their work to highlight what they consider problematic scholarship. Inside Higher Ed reached five of them, all of whom said it was the first time they’d heard about the report. Several also said that their work was misrepresented or taken out of context. 

Christopher Loperena, an associate professor of anthropology at the City University of New York Graduate Center, said the report mischaracterizes his work and the broader field of anthropology. He told Inside Higher Ed he disagrees with “the suggestion that public-facing and politically engaged research is at odds with serious scholarly inquiry in the humanities and humanistic social sciences.”

University of California Los Angeles sociocultural anthropologist Akhil Gupta said the authors made the “cardinal academic error” of misquoting his paper. 

“Frankly, the charge to this committee was itself an invitation to bash interpretive disciplines. This is not surprising. The first ‘culture wars’ over the Western canon were fought during the Reagan years, and we can expect attacks on scholars of color and disciplines that are critical of current configurations of power in the Trump years,” Gupta wrote in an email. “I wish people would not waste their time on producing this kind of material whose sole purpose seems to be to stir up controversy and to justify budget cuts to the humanities.” 

The authors write that Khiara Bridges, an anthropologist and professor at the University of California, Berkeley, School of Law, “endorses a radical perspectivalism about truth,” and include a quote from her book “Critical Race Theory: A Primer.” Bridges said this misrepresents her work.

“In the quote from the book that is mentioned in the report, I am not describing my personal views: I am describing postmodernism,” Bridges told Inside Higher Ed via email. “It is irresponsible for the report to represent my description of a claim as my endorsement of a claim. Moreover, it is lazy—an example of the type of scholarship and analysis that I instruct my students not to produce. … The authors of the report owe me an apology.”

Bridges sent a letter to Boghossian on Wednesday, asking him to correct the “misdescription” of her scholarship. Boghossian replied Wednesday afternoon and cc’d Inside Higher Ed, as well as his coauthors, Diermeier and Martin. In the email, he said he was grateful that Bridges reached out and “eager to correct any misrepresentation of your views that our report may contain.” He also shared several other passages from Bridges’ book to explain “why we read the passage as we did,” he wrote. 

“If we have misread you, namely, if you in fact reject the view that truth is perspectival and hold that there are objective truths, truths that do not depend on the perspective of the truth seeker, then I would welcome that clarification, and we would be glad to note it publicly and to adjust the discussion of your work accordingly,” Boghossian wrote. “Equally, if your position is that the perspectivalism in question is more qualified than the report’s phrase ‘a radical perspectivalism about truth’ suggests, I would genuinely like to understand the qualification, and we would consider amending the quotation to include more of the surrounding context if you thought that would help.” 

Boghossian did not respond to Inside Higher Ed’s questions Wednesday.

The authors cite Fernando Villanea, an anthropology professor at the University of Colorado at Boulder, twice. The second time is a passage from an American Anthropologist essay he wrote titled “Defense Against Dark Anthropology.” It reads, “The core academic value of anthropology is not the pursuit of truth, because all truth is subjective. Conversely, there are millions of people who are adversely affected by the subjective version of truth we choose to tell. That is the objective reality, and so our core value should instead be to serve their interests.” 

Boghossian and his coauthors call the excerpt “incoherent.” They go on to write that “taken more charitably, it is the still bizarre claim that while there are no objective truths about the subtle descriptive matters with which anthropology is concerned, there are objective truths about values and morals—about who is adversely affected by a given position, and about what anthropologists should take as their core values.” 

Villanea said the passage was taken out of context; his essay was about how anthropology should serve Global South communities. 

“To condense [my arguments] into a claim that I ‘explicitly repudiate the idea that scholarship aims at knowledge’ is not just incorrect, but lazy scholarship,” Villanea said. “Ultimately, the report displays the ivory tower in high form by presenting arguments that are isolated from many current academic conversations.”

Charles Hale, the dean of social sciences at the University of California Santa Barbara, who is also cited in the Vanderbilt report, told Inside Higher Ed that the report “condemns a large swath of scholars” with the broad term relativist—something he said has never accurately represented his work. While he ultimately sympathizes with the authors’ stated intentions, he said “their tack is ultimately wrongheaded and would leave us further weakened and vulnerable.”

“Their arguments for clear and accessible language, judicious deployment of data and evidence, careful consideration of contrary views, rigorous analysis, etc. are all salutary and can be readily confirmed,” Hale wrote in an email. “Their call for a return to ‘disinterested scholarship’ reads, quite frankly, like the authors are asking us to scamper back to the privileged bubble of the ivory tower, keep our heads down, and hope that the onslaught passes us by.”


https://americananthro.org/advocacy-statements/setting-the-record-straight-on-anthropology/

Setting the Record Straight on Anthropology (American Anthropological Association)

June 11, 2026

The Report on the State of Scholarship in the Humanities and the Humanistic Social Sciences identifies anthropology as the single most extreme case of scholarly deterioration in the humanities and social sciences. The American Anthropological Association rejects that characterization, not out of institutional defensiveness, but on evidentiary and methodological grounds the committee itself would claim to care about.

Anthropologists welcome rigorous critique of the discipline. What we cannot accept is a sweeping verdict about anthropology’s intellectual culture, scholarly practices, and professional norms built on selective evidence and issued without consultation. Anthropologists routinely argue that understanding a community, institution, or social world requires engagement with the people who inhabit it. We teach students to listen carefully, examine multiple forms of evidence, situate claims in context, and remain attentive to internal diversity and disagreement. It is therefore striking that a report offering such far-reaching conclusions about anthropology appears to have done so without meaningful engagement with the largest professional association representing the field.

The committee did not contact the American Anthropological Association, not its elected leadership, not its editors, not the broad range of scholars who comprise the discipline. This despite there being an anthropologist and a linguist among the committee’s members. This is a central methodological failure of a report that claims to assess an entire field. Anthropology is not a small or intellectually uniform field. It encompasses cultural anthropology, archaeology, biological anthropology, linguistic anthropology, applied anthropology, and numerous interdisciplinary areas. It contains vigorous and ongoing debates about theory, evidence, ethics, method, public engagement, and the future of the discipline itself.

In fact, the presentation of the report’s flagship example of anthropology’s “scholarly deterioration” is factually wrong. The report implies that the deteriorative position is embodied in one article they cite and refer to a single commentary on that article and their “internal report” as evidence. Their position is a significant misrepresentation of the state of the discourse and only stands if one ignores the substantial current literature. There is substantial and active literature that contradicts or at least complexifies the assertions made by the report, literature that would have been immediately apparent to anyone who had consulted working scholars in the field.

The report also characterizes anthropology’s attention to positionality and reflexivity as evidence of a broader rejection of objectivity. This is wholly incorrect. Reflexivity is not, as the report asserts a claim that facts don’t exist, that they are irrelevant, or that all interpretations are equally valid. It is a methodological commitment to examining how knowledge is produced and to making visible the assumptions, relationships, and contexts that shape research. Far from weakening scholarly rigor, many anthropologists see reflexivity as one of the ways rigor is strengthened.

The authors argue that the humanities exist above all to prepare students for “a life as a free citizen” – invoking the Latin liberalis, befitting a free person, then later condemn as politicized and distorted the scholarship associated with social justice, decolonization, and women’s liberation. But are not social justice, decolonization, and women’s liberation granular descriptions of freedom, articulations of what is required for all people to be free citizens? One can disagree about whether these are the right paths to freedom. But that debate is precisely what the academy exists to have. The committee forecloses it rather than engages it, which is exactly what it accuses anthropology of doing.

More broadly, the report risks conflating intellectual disagreement with intellectual decline. Anthropology has never been a discipline defined by consensus. It is characterized by debate, critique, revision, and self-examination. Those are not signs of a discipline in decline. They are signs of a healthy scholarly community actively grappling with complex questions rather than avoiding them.

Universities should absolutely encourage robust discussions about scholarly standards, evidence, viewpoint diversity, and academic freedom. Anthropology has much to contribute to those conversations. But those discussions are most productive when they are grounded in broad engagement, careful representation of the field being assessed, and the same evidentiary standards we expect of all scholarly work.

The report raises questions worth asking about the relationship between scholarship and political commitments and then fails to address them with the kind of methodological rigor, disciplinary engagement, and intellectual humility that are essential to the scholarly enterprise itself. We are ready to have that conversation. We invite the committee to begin it the way any serious scholarly exchange should begin, by talking with the people they are writing about.

Carolyn Rouse

President, American Anthropological Association


https://conradkottak.substack.com/p/a-hit-job-with-footnotes?triedRedirect=true

A Hit Job with Footnotes (Conrad Kottak, Substacks)

A New Report Gets Anthropology Wrong

Conrad Kottak

Jun 13, 2026

By Conrad Phillip Kottak

A commission of eminent scholars recently decided to examine whether politics has corrupted academic scholarship in the humanities and social sciences. Their April 2026 report makes some good points. It also does to anthropology exactly what it accuses bad scholars of doing to knowledge. It cherry-picks.

The report was assembled by Paul Boghossian, Silver Professor of Philosophy at New York University, and submitted to university chancellors alarmed by what they see as the erosion of scholarly standards. The commissioners include philosophers, historians, sociologists, and one biological anthropologist. Their charge: find out whether political commitments have distorted scholarship in the humanities and social sciences.

They get some things right. Their critique of relativism is sound and clearly argued. The self-refutation point is not new, but it lands hard: scholars who claim that all truth is subjective cannot then assert, as fact, that their own position is correct. That is not a subtle point. It should embarrass anyone who misses it. The report also resists calling for right-wing politicization as a cure for left-wing politicization, and it honestly acknowledges the threat from federal overreach, including a documented case of a Texas A&M professor told to remove Plato from his syllabus. Credit where it is due

Aggies ban Plato.

Then the report turns to anthropology, and things go wrong.

Anthropology has four subfields: cultural anthropology, anthropological archaeology, biological anthropology, and linguistic anthropology. A general anthropology encompasses all four, along with applied work. The report engages with none of this. Instead, it hunts through the most politically driven corners of cultural anthropology, pulls out the most extreme statements it can find, and presents them as a portrait of the whole discipline. This is the fallacy of citing only positive cases. Prosecutors do this. Scientists are not supposed to.

Look at what gets left out. Biological anthropologists study human evolution, skeletal biology, primatology, and population genetics. Anthropological archaeologists reconstruct past human behavior from material remains. Linguistic anthropologists analyze language structure and variation with methods any empiricist would recognize. And within cultural anthropology itself, systematic fieldwork carried out over months and years in real communities has produced some of the most durable knowledge we have about how humans actually live. I have spent more than sixty years doing exactly that, in Brazil and Madagascar. The National Academy of Sciences does not elect members for writing advocacy pieces. It elects them for doing science. Some of those members are anthropologists.

The report seizes on a statement by Fernando Villanea, published in the American Anthropological Association’s flagship journal: “The core academic value of anthropology is not the pursuit of truth, because all truth is subjective.” Villanea has since said the passage was taken out of context, that his essay was about how anthropology should serve Global South communities. Fair enough to note. But the statement says what it says. You cannot declare, as fact, that there are no facts. It collapses under its own weight regardless of the intention behind it.

What strikes me is that I have heard its equivalent somewhere else entirely.

In earlier writing I described what I called convergent evolution in epistemology. Two very different traditions, traveling completely different roads, have ended up in the same place. Some academic postmodernists, including some cultural anthropologists, spent decades arguing that objectivity is a Western conceit and that facts are socially constructed. The current political environment reached the same conclusion by a different road, not through theory but through the simpler convenience of making reality negotiable when it produces inconvenient results. Kellyanne Conway’s “alternative facts” and Villanea’s claim about subjective truth are structurally the same move. The politics point in opposite directions. The damage to honest inquiry is identical.

All truth is subjective/Alternative Facts

This is not a left-wing pathology. It is not a right-wing pathology. It is a general pathology, and naming it clearly matters. The Boghossian report spots it on one side and misses it on the other.

Here is something else the report misses. There is a fundamental difference between theory in the scientific sense and theory as practiced in much of contemporary cultural anthropology. Evolution through natural selection is a theory, with natural selection as its core mechanism. It explains the giraffe’s neck, the spread of antibiotic-resistant bacteria, and why we need a new flu shot every year. It was built to explain one set of observations and keeps working on entirely new phenomena nobody anticipated. You can test it. You can extend it. It works.

What passes for theory in postmodernist cultural anthropology works nothing like that. The standard move is to take one of the usual suspects, Michel Foucault, Pierre Bourdieu, and Bruno Latour being prominent among them, borrow a framework, and apply it to a text or a cultural moment as an interpretive lens. It is worth noting that none of these figures was an anthropologist. Foucault was a philosopher and historian, Bourdieu a sociologist, Latour a sociologist and philosopher of science. Cultural anthropology has been importing its theory from neighboring fields rather than building its own. And what it has imported does not predict anything, cannot be tested, and does not extend to new domains the way evolutionary theory extends from finch beaks to flu viruses. It is closer to literary criticism than to science, and calling it theory is generous.

Here’s looking at you, Michel Foucault.

The deeper irony is that anthropology once had real theoretical ambitions. Whatever their weaknesses, cultural evolutionism, structural functionalism, and cultural materialism were genuine attempts to build explanatory frameworks testable against ethnographic data. What replaced much of that tradition in cultural anthropology is not a better theory. It is the abandonment of the theoretical enterprise, dressed up in vocabulary that sounds rigorous without doing the work rigor requires.

The drift of cultural anthropology away from science is real. I have watched it happen over sixty years. That is worth criticizing. But it is not the whole discipline. Treating the worst statements from one corner of one subfield as the face of anthropology is not analysis. It is a hit job with footnotes.

The remedy for bad epistemology has always been the same: careful, honest inquiry, following the evidence wherever it leads. The report argues for exactly that standard. It should have applied it to anthropology.


https://paulddf.substack.com/p/misreading-the-humanities-a-critique

Misreading the Humanities: A Critique of the Vanderbilt–Washington University Report (Paul Tiyambe Zeleza, Substacks)

Paul Tiyambe Zeleza

Jun 13, 2026

Every generation rediscovers the “crisis” of the humanities, but the current cycle has acquired a sharper edge and a louder intensity. The recent Report on the State of Scholarship in the Humanities and Humanistic Social Sciences, commissioned by the chancellors of Vanderbilt and Washington University, belongs to this recurring genre of alarm (Boghossian et al. 2024). It presents itself as a defense of scholarly rigor, yet its anxieties and prescriptions reveal a deeper struggle over the authority, boundaries, and politics of legitimate knowledge.

In my book, Re-Envisioning the African and American Academies, I traced this crisis discourse in a chapter on “The Struggle for the Humanities” back to the 1960s, showing how declarations of decline reliably surface when political upheaval, social transformation, and institutional anxiety converge (Zeleza 2024). More recently, in my Substack essays, I have examined attacks on “woke” world history in the name of rigorous “Western history” (Zeleza 2026a), as well as the orchestrated assault on Black studies (Zeleza 2026b; Allen 2026). These epistemic attacks reveal how struggles over curriculum and scholarship have become proxy battles over national identity, racial hierarchy, and the boundaries of legitimate knowledge.

What ties these debates together is not simply a defense of “rigor,” or as framed in the report scholarly “standards” and “quality” but the defense of a particular epistemological order: a Eurocentric vision of the humanities that long imagined itself universal, insulated, and unassailable. That order has been unsettled, and in some quarters profoundly threatened, by the intellectual insurgencies of the past half-century. As the American academy diversified, its laager was breached by scholars whose intellectual genealogies stretch across the Black diaspora, Latin America, Asia, Africa, and the Caribbean, and by women and minoritized scholars whose presence exposed the parochialism of the old canon. Their work did not merely add new texts; it reconfigured the terms of humanistic inquiry.

Predictably, the reaction has been fierce. As white supremacy has mounted a noisy and dangerous resurgence in national politics amid the United States’ movement toward a minority-majority future, conservative intellectual forces have regrouped to defend a creaking epistemic hegemony. In this telling, the humanities are not evolving but collapsing; not expanding but losing their way; not democratizing knowledge but succumbing to ideology.

It is in this charged context that the recent report must be read. The controversy it has ignited is not merely a dispute over disciplinary standards. It is a revealing episode in the contemporary politics of knowledge, exposing how calls for scholarly rigor or quality can become vehicles for restoring older hierarchies of authority.

Historical Precedents

Moments of political anxiety in American life have long produced interventions that claim to diagnose a crisis in the university. The recent report belongs to this lineage. Its language of declining standards, ideological drift, and endangered objectivity is not anomalous; it is the latest iteration of a recurrent pattern in which the humanities become sites for broader struggles over cultural authority.

The 1950s offer an early precedent. During McCarthyism, congressional committees and university boards scrutinized faculty for alleged ideological deviation, invoking the language of objectivity and politicization to justify administrative oversight. The anxieties animating those investigations were political rather than methodological, yet they were framed as defenses of scholarly integrity. The current report reproduces this rhetorical strategy by presenting political judgments as epistemic concerns.

The culture wars of the 1980s and 1990s revived these concerns in a new register. Allan Bloom’s The Closing of the American Mind and Roger Kimball’s Tenured Radicals, warned that relativism and left-wing politics had corrupted the humanities (Bloom 1987; Kimball 1990). While they mention these two authors, the report explicitly states in their statement of the problem: “Our report does not attempt to trace the roots of the present-day critique of the academy to these antecedents. Nor does it attempt to engage in detail with contemporary critics of the humanistic academy and its defenders, a sprawling discussion that has taken place mainly online and in the press.” They declare categorically: “Our focus is rather the quality of scholarship: the research produced by professors employed by colleges and universities and published (for the most part) in academic journals and scholarly monographs.” Except that they actually don’t do that.

More recent interventions follow the same pattern, though the current report wraps its concerns in the language of philosophical sobriety. The 1776 Commission sought to reshape the teaching of United States history by casting progressive scholarship as a threat to national values. The present report presents its intervention in the spirit of the commission’s report, claiming it is primarily motivated to defend and promote disinterested inquiry, because that is “what universities are for. Indeed, it might well be thought that one of the greatest contributions a university can make to society is to provide a model of what disinterested inquiry can be and how it might thereby be of value… there is in fact no good reason to question either the coherence or the value of disinterested inquiry, however difficult it may be”.

The science wars of the 1990s provide another precedent. Debates between scientists and humanists over objectivity, relativism, and the authority of scientific knowledge mirror the epistemological anxieties that animate the present report. What is new is the translation of these philosophical disputes into administrative recommendations, transforming intellectual disagreement into a possible governance mandate.

Across these episodes, the pattern is consistent: claims of ideological capture and declining standards emerge during periods of political polarization, institutional insecurity, and shifting cultural authority. The current report follows this script closely, positioning itself as a corrective at precisely the moment when the humanities’ intellectual and demographic landscape is undergoing profound change, and national politics has descended into toxic ideological polarization, intolerant partisanship, and rightwing populism.

Over the past four decades, universities have adopted managerial logics that privilege market metrics, revenue generation, and quantifiable outputs. These logics devalue disciplines whose contributions are not easily monetized. The report calls for administrative intervention when humanities disciplines become politicized, as that calls for the suspension of administrative deference to faculty authority.

What is ignored in the report are the larger extrinsic forces facing the humanities: declining public funding, adjunctification, and enrollment pressures have created structural vulnerabilities that the report’s narrative of disciplinary failure risks intensifying. By framing the humanities’ challenges as self-inflicted, the report inadvertently supplies justification for further austerity and administrative intervention.

These institutional pressures intersect with a broader populist anti-intellectualism that casts the humanities as elitist, partisan, and disconnected from “real” knowledge. Although the report acknowledges “powerful forces outside the academy” attempting to dictate scholarship, its own framing, emphasizing ideological distortion, politicization, and the loss of objectivity, echoes the very critiques it claims to resist. The humanities’ engagement with race, gender, colonialism, and inequality has become a flashpoint in wider cultural battles, and the report’s suspicion of politically engaged scholarship reflects this polarization.

In this sense, the report functions both as a symptom and an instrument of the contemporary crisis. It responds to external pressures while reinforcing the logics that produced them. Its self-presentation as moderate is strategic, but its cumulative effect is alarmist. Its nostalgia for a depoliticized past is historically naïve, for the humanities have always been shaped by political struggle, intellectual contestation, and shifting social demands.

What the report ultimately offers is not a diagnosis of the humanities’ condition but a defense of a particular epistemic order under strain, one unsettled by demographic change, intellectual diversification, and the erosion of institutional certainties that once insulated the humanities from broader political currents.


In Defense of Anthropology (Alex Thurston, Substacks)

(By a wannabe anthropologist.)

Alex Thurston

Jun 22, 2026

The recently released “Report on the State of Scholarship in the Humanities and the Humanistic Social Sciences” has triggered tremendous pushback (see herehere, and here, for example).1 The humanities as a whole certainly deserve a full-throated defense, but here I want to focus on how the Report singles out anthropology for condemnation.

Anthropology is vital to understanding global politics. The limitations facing anthropologists, including difficulty accessing authoritarian environments and conflict zones, contribute directly to the growing poverty of empirical knowledge about current events, a trend I have written about here and here. A world with fewer anthropologists will be a world that knows less about itself, particularly about the textures of political life on the ground.

The Report’s Charges Against Anthropology

In general, the Report denounces a wide swath of humanities scholars and anthropologists for pursuing what the Report’s authors call (p. 12)

a distinctive form of politicization in which the scholarly enterprise is taken to be subordinate to, or in the service of, political (social or moral) goals beyond the advancement of knowledge and understanding. The goals vary from area to area, but in a contemporary context they are generally though not exclusively associated with the progressive left. Put most broadly, the goal might be characterized as turning the humanities into vehicles for social justice, or the elimination of pernicious social hierarchies. More specific goals under this heading include anti-racism (the eradication of racial hierarchy), feminism (the rejection of patriarchy), the “decolonization” of the academy and of society more generally (undoing the legacy of imperialism), full equity for gender and sexual minorities and, to a much lesser extent, the eradication of class distinctions and the replacement of “neoliberal” capitalism with some form of socialism.

All of this is essentially the authors’ attempt to re-litigate long-running and tedious conversations about “cancel culture,” “political correctness,” etc.

The Report’s authors believe that “politicization” is most pronounced in anthropology, writing (pp. 4-5)

Our review of the disciplines paints a mixed picture. Every field we have studied shows some signs of the pathologies sketched above: a deterioration in scholarly standards fueled by the substitution of political criteria for properly scholarly criteria in the assessment of research and a more general repudiation of long-standing ideals of rigor and objectivity. In some fields (e.g., philosophy) the problems are largely confined to a single subfield focused on a charged topic. In others (e.g., history), while there are streams of scholarship in which standards have been politicized in problematic ways, they run alongside more dominant streams in which a wide range of views is tolerated, and appropriately scholarly standards are brought to bear. In the most extreme cases (e.g., anthropology), we see a widespread deterioration in scholarly standards grounded in a pervasive repudiation of ideals of objectivity together with a toxic intellectual climate in which reasonable dissent on politically charged topics is routinely suppressed and punished.

The Report also disapprovingly quotes various anthropologists (p. 12):

For example, in a 2021 presidential address to the American Anthropological Association, Akhil Gupta writes that “anthropology is an outlier among the social sciences … because its political project is to challenge the culturally dominant commonsense of capitalist consumerism” (Gupta and Stoolman 2022, emphasis added). In a reply published in American Anthropologist, Fernando Villanea emphasizes the point that “the value of anthropology is not the pursuit of truth, because all truth is subjective,” but rather to “serve the interests” of people who have been harmed by anthropologists in the past (Villanea 2023). Two years later, in the same journal, José Santos argued that “all ethnographies” — the stock in trade of cultural anthropology — have as their goal “not voyeurism but advocacy” (Santos 2025), as if the goal of describing the social world and making sense of it was not only not on the menu, but that it was to be disparaged as a kind of perversion. Taken literally, such remarks call, not for scholarship in the service of a social goal, but for a rejection of the core idea that scholarship aims at understanding.

Ultimately, the Report concludes that “traditional scholarship” and “disinterested inquiry” are under deep threat – or have been outright suppressed – by forces of “relativism” and “postmodernism.”

The Report Has No (Transparent) Methodology But Does Have Clear Politics

If the Report is itself meant to be a form of evidence-backed inquiry in line with the supposed standards of “traditional scholarship,” then it is striking that there is no methodology section in the thirty-page document. There is no methodology section because the method was to cherry-pick, decontextualize, and assert. Surely we could apply humanities methodologies to the exercise of assessing the state of the humanities. That application would mean, minimally, viewing quotations in context, considering authorial intent, and assessing different potential interpretations. None of that occurs here.

Or we could apply social scientific methodologies to the exercise. In that case, we would want to know whether the quotations the authors selected are representative of broader trends. Such an assessment would in turn require some kind of standard of measurement other than the Report authors’ (presumed) authority.

The Report’s lack of methodology is closely related to its implicit but very clear politics. Put simply, the authors reflect the politics of someone in the vicinity of Jonathan Chait.

We could pull at various threads to start unraveling the Report’s politics. One easy starting point would be to note that the authors place “neoliberal” in scare quotes in the passage I excerpted above. The scare quotes are, I believe, meant to suggest that the term “neoliberal” is an unserious epithet rather than a term of serious analysis, and those who use “neoliberal” are conducting “politicized” scholarship.

Such a suggestion would undercut the authors’ own claims. The literature on neoliberalism is in fact replete with works of remarkable scholarly precision and weight, works that are far from the caricatures of “postmodernism” and “relativism” that the Report’s authors decry. Key examples would include Quinn Slobodian’s Globalists (Harvard, 2018) and Christian Joppke’s Neoliberal Nationalists (Cambridge, 2020). These two works show, respectively, that (a) neoliberalism is a complex historical formation that can be empirically identified and traced, and (b) neoliberalism is an essential concept for understanding the world of Trump and his ilk. To dismiss the idea of “neoliberalism” as politicized and unscholarly is to reveal oneself as unserious.

Anthropology’s Vital Role

If a reader knew nothing about anthropology, that reader would come away from this report convinced that anthropology is a vacuous discipline dedicated to denying that facts exist and punishing anyone who questions political correctness.

In fact, anthropologists often provide the most detailed accounts we have of the most important political and social phenomena in the world. For example, could one understand the War on Terror – one of the main structuring elements of global politics over the past quarter-century – without reading the work of Darryl Li and Samar al-Bulushi, both of whose books are grounded in extensive chronicling of empirical data? And in my own adopted discipline of political science, the works that have the most enduring value to me are the ones written by political scientists who sound a lot like anthropologists – Leonardo Villalòn on Senegal, Zekeria Ould Ahmed Salem on Mauritania, John Paden on Nigeria, Stéphane Lacroix on Saudi Arabia, Thomas Pierret on Syria, Tareq Baconi on Gaza, etc. To the extent that I have achieved any insights in my own work, a good deal of them owe to my efforts, however successful or unsuccessful, to conduct ethnography in small doses and to think like an anthropologist.

I find much quantitative political science, meanwhile, produces results that are either glaringly obvious or flat-out wrong. The thin and fleeting results of much quantitative social science, which often reflect authors’ own clear biases and preconceived political goals, all underscore how a supposed commitment to facts and evidence does not necessarily produce meaningful knowledge about the world we live in – and can even prove highly distorting. See David Keen on Paul Collier for a devastating takedown of a widely celebrated (but often profoundly unconvincing, at least to me) social scientist who is supposedly a rigorous number-cruncher following evidence to conclusions.

Anthropologists are often the best positioned to explain events, trends, and places – and to counteract the often facile understandings constructed by government policymakers, think tankers, political scientists, economists, journalists, “OSINT analysts,” and others. I have returned multiple times to the conclusion of Judith Scheele’s Smugglers and Saints of the Sahara (p. 233), where she reflects on how differently a small town on the Mali-Algeria border can be seen:

There are vital issues of power here, but not the clichéd ones rehashed in the “Report on the State of Scholarship in the Humanities and the Humanistic Social Sciences.” That Report wants to fight on the terrain of “facts don’t care about your feelings” or “let’s debate how many genders there are,” but there are other terrains of power in which anthropology and an anthropological mindset matters even more vividly.

That mindset is becoming harder to pursue on the ground, especially in the arc of countries I cover at this newsletter. Authoritarianism and war, whether individually or in combination, have made on-the-ground research difficult in many of the countries from Mali to Iran, especially the sustained, immersive, ethnographic fieldwork that is cultural anthropology’s core method. The obstacles to anthropological research leave us with a poorer understanding of how power is experienced. Surely now is precisely when we most need that understanding; indeed, when anthropologists are able to offer perspectives on contemporary war zones, their analysis is particularly precious – see Nisrin Elamin’s work on Sudan, for example. Overall, we are hurtling along a path to what Ruben Andersson called, in a 2019 book, a “no go world.” To quote from the summary, “Using drones, proxy forces, border reinforcement, and outsourced aid, risk-obsessed powers are helping to remap the world into zones of insecurity and danger. The result is a vision of chaos crashing into fortified borders, with national and global politics riven by fear.” Viewing conflict zones from afar, it is easy to settle into neat narratives, to overvalue the perspectives of top political actors, to miss the messy dynamics at the level of ordinary people. Those are all challenges I struggle with in this newsletter, to be honest.

I wonder, then, whether anthropology is politically objectionable to the Report’s authors and to their many powerful allies because anthropology is awash with “postmodernism” and “relativism” – or whether anthropology is politically objectionable because of its potential to unearth inconvenient facts, trends, and perspectives.

Anthropology Has No “Traditional Scholarship” to Which It Can Return

The Report’s authors refer some ten times to “traditional scholarship,” “traditional standards,” etc. A representative passage (p. 4):

Scholarship on matters of human concern has been a source of controversy from the start — witness the trial of Socrates for corrupting the youth of Athens.2 In recent years, however, the complaint has assumed a more specific form, namely, that the traditional goal of coming to understand the human world through careful scholarship has been subordinated to, or even displaced by, a “political” goal: the aim of realizing a conception of social justice nowadays associated with the progressive left.

But the authors make no acknowledgment of anthropology’s specific and concrete past. As anthropologists will be the first to tell you, their discipline’s roots lie in colonial projects of knowledge-gathering and knowledge-fashioning that proceeded as part of and in tandem with empire. There was never a point in time when anthropology was unmoored from state power such that anthropologists could seek to “understand the human world through careful scholarship” in some kind of political vacuum. It would require a remarkably narrow view of the discipline’s history to insist that there was some kind of window, perhaps around the 1960s (?),3 when anthropology was doing a kind of un-politicized “traditional scholarship.” Even and perhaps especially during the 1960s, in fact, Area Studies scholarship was structured in core ways by the funding mechanisms and policy priorities of the U.S. government and various government-adjacent foundations. The anthropology of the 1960s, meanwhile, is replete with rumination on meaning-making, the interpretation of cultural forms, etc. I’m not sure someone like Clifford Geertz would fit easily into what the Report’s authors assume “traditional scholarship” to be. In any case I did not see the Report praise any anthropologist, living or dead, especially not any cultural anthropologist.

Closing

Ten years ago, still clinging onto the idea of some kind of technocratic-meritocratic process in which academics’ ideas could feed into benevolent U.S. government policymaking, I might have made the case for anthropology in terms of “policy relevance.” “Policymakers should listen to anthropologists because then they’ll see how complex things are, which could help reduce harm!” I don’t really believe at this point, though, that policymaking takes input in that way, nor do I believe that “policy relevance” is the best metric for evaluating the importance of academic and scholarly work.

So I’ll make the case directly to you, then, reader: anthropology enriches your understanding of the world, from the homelessness on America’s streets to the way power works in Iran. Anyone hinting4 to university administrators that they should slash or discipline anthropologists is someone advocating for a curtailment of that humanizing, disruptive, and critical view that the best cultural anthropology provides.

1 For background on the Report, you can read the Chronicle of Higher Education’s interview with four of the authors.

2 The authors give various dog-whistles to the effect that they see themselves as defenders of the humanities in the sense of a Western canon of great thinkers.

3 If was one even going to attempt to make the argument, one would have to locate that window after independence but before the supposedly, according to the Report’s authors, deleterious influence starting in the 1970s of figures such as Edward Said and Michel Foucault.

4 I applied my advanced humanities training in parsing texts to conclude that the authors’ statement “we must urge caution on the part of administrators who might wish to act on the basis of our report” (p. 5) is a form of preemptive self-defense rather than a serious plea to their core audience.


https://www.freetheinquiry.com/p/the-humanities-in-crisis-a-discussion

The Humanities in Crisis? A Discussion on the “State of Scholarship in the Humanities” Report (Free Inquiry)

Scholarly standards have been distorted by political criteria.

John Tomasi

Jun 25, 2026

Webinar

Governo nacionalista da Hungria demite meteorologistas após previsão cancelar show (Folha de S.Paulo)

www1.folha.uol.com.br

24.ago.2022 às 23h01

Risco de tempestades não se confirmou, e mídia ligada a Orbán liderou críticas a agência


Dirigentes do Serviço Nacional de Meteorologia da Hungria foram demitidas depois de uma previsão de chuvas fortes levar o governo nacionalista de Viktor Orbán a cancelar um tradicional show de fogos de artifício em Budapeste no último fim de semana.

As informações são da agência de notícias Associated Press. O espetáculo, realizado anualmente em homenagem ao Dia de Santo Estevão, estava marcado para a noite do sábado (20). O show húngaro nessa data é tido como um dos maiores da Europa, o que explica o apreço do premiê pelo evento.

Naquela tarde, no entanto, o governo anunciou o cancelamento da festividade por orientação do serviço de meteorologia, que previa “condições climáticas extremas” para cerca de 21h.

Em vez de avançar sobre a capital como previsto, porém, a tempestade mudou de direção, restringindo-se ao leste da Hungria. Budapeste continuou seca.

O Serviço Nacional de Meteorologia publicou um pedido de desculpas nas redes sociais no domingo (21), afirmando que certo nível de incerteza faz parte da meteorologia, mas na segunda (22) o ministro de Inovação de Orbán, Laszlo Palkovics, demitiu a chefe e a vice da agência. Kornelia Radics dirigia o serviço desde 2013, e tinha Gyula Horvath como braço direito desde 2016.

Embora Palkovics não tenha dado uma razão oficial para as demissões, a agência meteorológica foi duramente criticada por meios de comunicação alinhados a Orbán. Eles afirmam que o “grave erro” do serviço causou um adiamento desnecessário.

Agências de notícias destacaram, porém, que parcela considerável de húngaros se opunha à escala e ao custo da explosão dos fogos, em especial num momento delicado como o atual, de crise econômica e Guerra da Ucrânia. Uma petição pedindo o cancelamento do espetáculo e um uso mais pragmático de sua verba reuniu quase 200 mil assinaturas.

Ainda segundo a Associated Press, o espetáculo buscaria mostrar de forma resumida os mil anos desde o nascimento da Hungria cristã até os dias de hoje, focando valores nacionais caros à plataforma de Orbán. O lançamento dos fogos foi remarcado para o próximo sábado (27).

Nesta terça (23), a agência de meteorologia publicou uma nota exigindo a readmissão das chefes demitidas. O órgão afirma que está sob “pressão política” no que se refere aos modelos usados para a previsão do tempo no feriado e que os responsáveis por pressioná-los “ignoram incertezas cientificamente aceitas inerentes à previsão do tempo”.

Orbán, que em abril conquistou seu quinto mandato como premiê —o quarto consecutivo—, lidera o que chama de projeto de “democracia iliberal”, com medidas anti-imigração, anti-LGBTQIA+ e contra a liberdade de imprensa. A postura rende uma série de atritos com a União Europeia, bloco do qual a Hungria faz parte.

Editorial: Misinformation is blocking climate action, and the U.N. is finally calling it out (Los Angeles Times)

latimes.com

By The Times Editorial Board March 7, 2022 3 AM PT


A landmark U.N. climate report on the escalating effects of global warming broke new ground by finally highlighting the role of misinformation in obstructing climate action. It was the first time one of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change’s exhaustive assessments has called out the ways in which fossil fuel companies, climate deniers and conspiracy theorists have sown doubt and confusion about climate change and made it harder for policymakers to act.

The expert panel’s report released last week mostly focused on the increasing risk of catastrophe to nature and humanity from climate change. But it also laid out clear evidence of how misinformation about climate change and the “deliberate undermining of science” financed and organized by “vested economic and political interests,” along with deep partisanship and polarization, are delaying action to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and adapt to their impacts.

The assessment describes an atmosphere in which public perception about climate change is continually undermined by fossil fuel interests’ peddling of false, misleading and contrarian information and its circulation through social media echo chambers; where there’s an entrenched partisan divide on climate science and solutions; and people reject factual information if it conflicts with their political ideology.

Sound familiar? It should, because the climate misinformation landscape is worse in the United States than practically any other country.

While the section on misinformation covers only a few of the more than 3,600 pages in the report approved by 195 countries, it’s notable that it’s in a chapter about North America and calls out the U.S. as a hotbed for conspiracy theories, partisanship and polarization. A 2018 study of 25 countries that was cited in the IPCC report found that the U.S. had a stronger link between climate skepticism and conspiratorial and conservative ideology than in any other nation tested. These forces aren’t just a threat to democracy, they are major roadblocks to climate action and seem to have sharpened with the Trump presidency and the COVID-19 pandemic.

Misinformation was included in the North America chapter for the first time this year “because there has been a lot of research conducted on the topic since the last major IPCC report was published in 2014,” said Sherilee Harper, one of the lead authors and an associate professor at the University of Alberta in Canada. “Evidence assessed in the report shows how strong party affiliation and partisan opinion polarization can contribute to delayed climate action, most notably in the U.S.A., but also in Canada.”

The IPCC’s language is measured but leaves no doubt that the fossil fuel industry and politicians who advance its agenda are responsible. It is shameful that fossil fuel interests have been so successful in misleading Americans about the greatest threat to our existence. The industry has engaged in a decades-long campaign to question climate science and delay action, enlisting conservative think tanks and public relations firms to help sow doubt about global warming and the actions needed to fight it.

These dynamics help explain why U.S. politicians have failed time after time to enact significant federal climate legislation, including President Biden’s stalled but desperately needed “Build Back Better” bill that includes $555 billion to spur growth in renewable energy and clean transportation. And they show that combating disinformation is a necessity if we are to break through lawmakers’ refusal to act, which is increasingly out of step with Americans’ surging levels of alarm and concern about the overheating of the planet.

“We’ve seen misinformation poisoning the information landscape for over three decades, and over that time the public has been getting more and more polarized,” said John Cook, a postdoctoral research fellow at the Climate Change Communication Research Hub at Monash University in Australia. “The U.S. is the strongest source of misinformation and recipient of misinformation. It’s also the most polarized on climate.”

Cook and his colleagues studied misinformation on conservative think-tank websites and contrarian blogs over the last 20 years and charted the evolution of the climate opposition from outright denial of the reality of human-caused climate change and toward attacking solutions such as renewable energy or seeking to discredit scientists.

Cook said his research has found the most effective way to counter climate obstruction misinformation is to educate people about how to identify and understand different tactics, such as the use of fake experts, cherry-picked facts, logical fallacies and conspiracy theories. For example, seeing words such as “natural” or “renewable” in fossil fuel advertising raises red flags that you’re being misled through greenwashing.

“It’s like teaching people the magician’s sleight-of-hand trick,” Cook said.

There have been important efforts recently to hold the fossil fuel industry accountable for disinformation. In a hearing that was modeled on tobacco industry testimony from a generation ago, House Democrats hauled in oil executives last fall to answer to allegations that their companies have concealed their knowledge of the risks of global warming to obstruct climate action (they, unsurprisingly, denied them).

Perhaps we are getting closer to a turning point, where public realization that we’ve been misinformed by polluting industries begins to overcome decades of planet-endangering deceit and delay. Having the world’s scientists finally begin to call out the problem certainly can’t hurt.

How to think about weird things (AEON)

From discs in the sky to faces in toast, learn to weigh evidence sceptically without becoming a closed-minded naysayer

by Stephen Law

Stephen Law is a philosopher and author. He is director of philosophy at the Department of Continuing Education at the University of Oxford, and editor of Think, the Royal Institute of Philosophy journal. He researches primarily in the fields of philosophy of religion, philosophy of mind, Ludwig Wittgenstein, and essentialism. His books for a popular audience include The Philosophy Gym (2003), The Complete Philosophy Files (2000) and Believing Bullshit (2011). He lives in Oxford.

Edited by Nigel Warburton

10 NOVEMBER 2021

Many people believe in extraordinary hidden beings, including demons, angels, spirits and gods. Plenty also believe in supernatural powers, including psychic abilities, faith healing and communication with the dead. Conspiracy theories are also popular, including that the Holocaust never happened and that the terrorist attacks on the United States of 11 September 2001 were an inside job. And, of course, many trust in alternative medicines such as homeopathy, the effectiveness of which seems to run contrary to our scientific understanding of how the world actually works.

Such beliefs are widely considered to be at the ‘weird’ end of the spectrum. But, of course, just because a belief involves something weird doesn’t mean it’s not true. As science keeps reminding us, reality often is weird. Quantum mechanics and black holes are very weird indeed. So, while ghosts might be weird, that’s no reason to dismiss belief in them out of hand.

I focus here on a particular kind of ‘weird’ belief: not only are these beliefs that concern the enticingly odd, they’re also beliefs that the general public finds particularly difficult to assess.

Almost everyone agrees that, when it comes to black holes, scientists are the relevant experts, and scientific investigation is the right way to go about establishing whether or not they exist. However, when it comes to ghosts, psychic powers or conspiracy theories, we often hold wildly divergent views not only about how reasonable such beliefs are, but also about what might count as strong evidence for or against them, and who the relevant authorities are.

Take homeopathy, for example. Is it reasonable to focus only on what scientists have to say? Shouldn’t we give at least as much weight to the testimony of the many people who claim to have benefitted from homeopathic treatment? While most scientists are sceptical about psychic abilities, what of the thousands of reports from people who claim to have received insights from psychics who could only have known what they did if they really do have some sort of psychic gift? To what extent can we even trust the supposed scientific ‘experts’? Might not the scientific community itself be part of a conspiracy to hide the truth about Area 51 in Nevada, Earth’s flatness or the 9/11 terrorist attacks being an inside job?

Most of us really struggle when it comes to assessing such ‘weird’ beliefs – myself included. Of course, we have our hunches about what’s most likely to be true. But when it comes to pinning down precisely why such beliefs are or aren’t reasonable, even the most intelligent and well educated of us can quickly find ourselves out of our depth. For example, while most would pooh-pooh belief in fairies, Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of the quintessentially rational detective Sherlock Holmes, actually believed in them and wrote a book presenting what he thought was compelling evidence for their existence.

When it comes to weird beliefs, it’s important we avoid being closed-minded naysayers with our fingers in our ears, but it’s also crucial that we avoid being credulous fools. We want, as far as possible, to be reasonable.

I’m a philosopher who has spent a great deal of time thinking about the reasonableness of such ‘weird’ beliefs. Here I present five key pieces of advice that I hope will help you figure out for yourself what is and isn’t reasonable.

Let’s begin with an illustration of the kind of case that can so spectacularly divide opinion. In 1976, six workers reported a UFO over the site of a nuclear plant being constructed near the town of Apex, North Carolina. A security guard then reported a ‘strange object’. The police officer Ross Denson drove over to investigate and saw what he described as something ‘half the size of the Moon’ hanging over the plant. The police also took a call from local air traffic control about an unidentified blip on their radar.

The next night, the UFO appeared again. The deputy sheriff described ‘a large lighted object’. An auxiliary officer reported five lighted objects that appeared to be burning and about 20 times the size of a passing plane. The county magistrate described a rectangular football-field-sized object that looked like it was on fire.

Finally, the press got interested. Reporters from the Star newspaper drove over to investigate. They too saw the UFO. But when they tried to drive nearer, they discovered that, weirdly, no matter how fast they drove, they couldn’t get any closer.

This report, drawn from Philip J Klass’s book UFOs: The Public Deceived (1983), is impressive: it involves multiple eyewitnesses, including police officers, journalists and even a magistrate. Their testimony is even backed up by hard evidence – that radar blip.

Surely, many would say, given all this evidence, it’s reasonable to believe there was at least something extraordinary floating over the site. Anyone who failed to believe at least that much would be excessively sceptical – one of those perpetual naysayers whose kneejerk reaction, no matter how strong the evidence, is always to pooh-pooh.

What’s most likely to be true: that there really was something extraordinary hanging over the power plant, or that the various eyewitnesses had somehow been deceived? Before we answer, here’s my first piece of advice.NEED TO KNOWTHINK IT THROUGHKEY POINTSWHY IT MATTERSLINKS & BOOKS

Think it through

1. Expect unexplained false sightings and huge coincidences

Our UFO story isn’t over yet. When the Star’s two-man investigative team couldn’t get any closer to the mysterious object, they eventually pulled over. The photographer took out his long lens to take a look: ‘Yep … that’s the planet Venus all right.’ It was later confirmed beyond any reasonable doubt that what all the witnesses had seen was just a planet. But what about that radar blip? It was a coincidence, perhaps caused by a flock of birds or unusual weather.

What moral should we draw from this case? Not, of course, that because this UFO report turned out to have a mundane explanation, all such reports can be similarly dismissed. But notice that, had the reporters not discovered the truth, this story would likely have gone down in the annals of ufology as one of the great unexplained cases. The moral I draw is that UFO cases that have multiple eyewitnesses and even independent hard evidence (the radar blip) may well crop up occasionally anyway, even if there are no alien craft in our skies.

We tend significantly to underestimate how prone to illusion and deception we are when it comes to the wacky and weird. In particular, we have a strong tendency to overdetect agency – to think we are witnessing a person, an alien or some other sort of creature or being – where in truth there’s none.

Psychologists have developed theories to account for this tendency to overdetect agency, including that we have evolved what’s called a hyperactive agency detecting device. Had our ancestors missed an agent – a sabre-toothed tiger or a rival, say – that might well have reduced their chances of surviving and reproducing. Believing an agent is present when it’s not, on the other hand, is likely to be far less costly. Consequently, we’ve evolved to err on the side of overdetection – often seeing agency where there is none. For example, when we observe a movement or pattern we can’t understand, such as the retrograde motion of a planet in the night sky, we’re likely to think the movement is explained by some hidden agent working behind the scenes (that Mars is actually a god, say).

One example of our tendency to overdetect agency is pareidolia: our tendency to find patterns – and, in particular, faces – in random noise. Stare at passing clouds or into the embers of a fire, and it’s easy to interpret the randomly generated shapes we see as faces, often spooky ones, staring back.

And, of course, nature is occasionally going to throw up the face-like patterns just by chance. One famous illustration was produced in 1976 by the Mars probe Viking Orbiter 1. As the probe passed over the Cydonia region, it photographed what appeared to be an enormous, reptilian-looking face 800 feet high and nearly 2 miles long. Some believe this ‘face on Mars’ was a relic of an ancient Martian civilisation, a bit like the Great Sphinx of Giza in Egypt. A book called The Monuments of Mars: A City on the Edge of Forever (1987) even speculated about this lost civilisation. However, later photos revealed the ‘face’ to be just a hill that looks face-like when lit a certain way. Take enough photos of Mars, and some will reveal face-like features just by chance.

The fact is, we should expect huge coincidences. Millions of pieces of bread are toasted each morning. One or two will exhibit face-like patterns just by chance, even without divine intervention. One such piece of toast that was said to show the face of the Virgin Mary (how do we know what she looked like?) was sold for $28,000. We think about so many people each day that eventually we’ll think about someone, the phone will ring, and it will be them. That’s to be expected, even if we’re not psychic. Yet many put down such coincidences to supernatural powers.

2. Understand what strong evidence actually is

When is a claim strongly confirmed by a piece of evidence? The following principle appears correct (it captures part of what confirmation theorists call the Bayes factor; for more on Bayesian approaches to assessing evidence, see the link at the end):

Evidence confirms a claim to the extent that the evidence is more likely if the claim is true than if it’s false.

Here’s a simple illustration. Suppose I’m in the basement and can’t see outside. Jane walks in with a wet coat and umbrella and tells me it’s raining. That’s pretty strong evidence it’s raining. Why? Well, it is of course possible that Jane is playing a prank on me with her wet coat and brolly. But it’s far more likely she would appear with a wet coat and umbrella and tell me it’s raining if that’s true than if it’s false. In fact, given just this new evidence, it may well be reasonable for me to believe it’s raining.

Here’s another example. Sometimes whales and dolphins are found with atavistic limbs – leg-like structures – where legs would be found on land mammals. These discoveries strongly confirm the theory that whales and dolphins evolved from earlier limbed, land-dwelling species. Why? Because, while atavistic limbs aren’t probable given the truth of that theory, they’re still far more probable than they would be if whales and dolphins weren’t the descendants of such limbed creatures.

The Mars face, on the other hand, provides an example of weak or non-existent evidence. Yes, if there was an ancient Martian civilisation, then we might discover what appeared to be a huge face built on the surface of the planet. However, given pareidolia and the likelihood of face-like features being thrown up by chance, it’s about as likely that we would find such face-like features anyway, even if there were no alien civilisation. That’s why such features fail to provide strong evidence for such a civilisation.

So now consider our report of the UFO hanging over the nuclear power construction site. Are several such cases involving multiple witnesses and backed up by some hard evidence (eg, a radar blip) good evidence that there are alien craft in our skies? No. We should expect such hard-to-explain reports anyway, whether or not we’re visited by aliens. In which case, such reports are not strong evidence of alien visitors.

Being sceptical about such reports of alien craft, ghosts or fairies is not knee-jerk, fingers-in-our-ears naysaying. It’s just recognising that, though we might not be able to explain the reports, they’re likely to crop up occasionally anyway, whether or not alien visitors, ghosts or fairies actually exist. Consequently, they fail to provide strong evidence for such beings.

3. Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence

It was the scientist Carl Sagan who in 1980 said: ‘Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.’ By an ‘extraordinary’ claim, Sagan appears to have meant an extraordinarily improbable claim, such as that Alice can fly by flapping her arms, or that she can move objects with her mind. On Sagan’s view, such claims require extraordinarily strong evidence before we should accept them – much stronger than the evidence required to support a far less improbable claim.

Suppose for example that Fred claims Alice visited him last night, sat on his sofa and drank a cup of tea. Ordinarily, we would just take Fred’s word for that. But suppose Fred adds that, during her visit, Alice flew around the room by flapping her arms. Of course, we’re not going to just take Fred’s word for that. It’s an extraordinary claim requiring extraordinary evidence.

If we’re starting from a very low base, probability-wise, then much more heavy lifting needs to be done by the evidence to raise the probability of the claim to a point where it might be reasonable to believe it. Clearly, Fred’s testimony about Alice flying around the room is not nearly strong enough.

Similarly, given the low prior probability of the claims that someone communicated with a dead relative, or has fairies living in their local wood, or has miraculously raised someone from the dead, or can move physical objects with their mind, we should similarly set the evidential bar much higher than we would for more mundane claims.

4. Beware accumulated anecdotes

Once we’ve formed an opinion, it can be tempting to notice only evidence that supports it and to ignore the rest. Psychologists call this tendency confirmation bias.

For example, suppose Simon claims a psychic ability to know the future. He can provide 100 examples of his predictions coming true, including one or two dramatic examples. In fact, Simon once predicted that a certain celebrity would die within 12 months, and they did!

Do these 100 examples provide us with strong evidence that Simon really does have some sort of psychic ability? Not if Simon actually made many thousands of predictions and most didn’t come true. Still, if we count only Simon’s ‘hits’ and ignore his ‘misses’, it’s easy to create the impression that he has some sort of ‘gift’.

Confirmation bias can also create the false impression that a therapy is effective. A long list of anecdotes about patients whose condition improved after a faith healing session can seem impressive. People may say: ‘Look at all this evidence! Clearly this therapy has some benefits!’ But the truth is that such accumulated anecdotes are usually largely worthless as evidence.

It’s also worth remembering that such stories are in any case often dubious. For example, they can be generated by the power of suggestion: tell people that a treatment will improve their condition, and many will report that it has, even if the treatment actually offers no genuine medical benefit.

Impressive anecdotes can also be generated by means of a little creative interpretation. Many believe that the 16th-century seer Nostradamus predicted many important historical events, from the Great Fire of London to the assassination of John F Kennedy. However, because Nostradamus’s prophecies are so vague, nobody was able to use his writings to predict any of these events before they occurred. Rather, his texts were later creatively interpreted to fit what subsequently happened. But that sort of ‘fit’ can be achieved whether Nostradamus had extraordinary abilities or not. In which case, as we saw under point 2 above, the ‘fit’ is not strong evidence of such abilities.

5. Beware ‘But it fits!’

Often, when we’re presented with strong evidence that our belief is false, we can easily change our mind. Show me I’m mistaken in believing that the Matterhorn is near Chamonix, and I’ll just drop that belief.

However, abandoning a belief isn’t always so easy. That’s particularly the case for beliefs in which we have invested a great deal emotionally, socially and/or financially. When it comes to religious and political beliefs, for example, or beliefs about the character of our close relatives, we can find it extraordinarily difficult to change our minds. Psychologists refer to the discomfort we feel in such situations – when our beliefs or attitudes are in conflict – as cognitive dissonance.

Perhaps the most obvious strategy we can employ when a belief in which we have invested a great deal is threatened is to start explaining away the evidence.

Here’s an example. Dave believes dogs are spies from the planet Venus – that dogs are Venusian imposters on Earth sending secret reports back to Venus in preparation for their imminent invasion of our planet. Dave’s friends present him with a great deal of evidence that he’s mistaken. But, given a little ingenuity, Dave finds he can always explain away that evidence:

‘Dave, dogs can’t even speak – how can they communicate with Venus?’

‘They can speak, they just hide their linguistic ability from us.’

‘But Dave, dogs don’t have transmitters by which they could relay their messages to Venus – we’ve searched their baskets: nothing there!’

‘Their transmitters are hidden in their brain!’

‘But we’ve X-rayed this dog’s brain – no transmitter!’

‘The transmitters are made from organic material indistinguishable from ordinary brain stuff.’

‘But we can’t detect any signals coming from dogs’ heads.’

‘This is advanced alien technology – beyond our ability to detect it!’

‘Look Dave, Venus can’t support dog life – it’s incredibly hot and swathed in clouds of acid.’

‘The dogs live in deep underground bunkers to protect them. Why do you think they want to leave Venus?!’

You can see how this conversation might continue ad infinitum. No matter how much evidence is presented to Dave, it’s always possible for him to cook up another explanation. And so he can continue to insist his belief is logically consistent with the evidence.

But, of course, despite the possibility of his endlessly explaining away any and all counterevidence, Dave’s belief is absurd. It’s certainly not confirmed by the available evidence about dogs. In fact, it’s powerfully disconfirmed.

The moral is: showing that your theory can be made to ‘fit’ – be consistent with – the evidence is not the same thing as showing your theory is confirmed by the evidence. However, those who hold weird beliefs often muddle consistency and confirmation.

Take young-Earth creationists, for example. They believe in the literal truth of the Biblical account of creation: that the entire Universe is under 10,000 years old, with all species being created as described in the Book of Genesis.

Polls indicate that a third or more of US citizens believe that the Universe is less than 10,000 years old. Of course, there’s a mountain of evidence against the belief. However, its proponents are adept at explaining away that evidence.

Take the fossil record embedded in sedimentary layers revealing that today’s species evolved from earlier species over many millions of years. Many young-Earth creationists explain away this record as a result of the Biblical flood, which they suppose drowned and then buried living things in huge mud deposits. The particular ordering of the fossils is supposedly accounted for by different ecological zones being submerged one after the other, starting with simple marine life. Take a look at the Answers in Genesis website developed by the Bible literalist Ken Ham, and you’ll discover how a great deal of other evidence for evolution and a billions-of-years-old Universe is similarly explained away. Ham believes that, by explaining away the evidence against young-Earth creationism in this way, he can show that his theory ‘fits’ – and so is scientifically confirmed by – that evidence:

Increasing numbers of scientists are realising that when you take the Bible as your basis and build your models of science and history upon it, all the evidence from the living animals and plants, the fossils, and the cultures fits. This confirms that the Bible really is the Word of God and can be trusted totally.
[my italics]

According to Ham, young-Earth creationists and evolutionists do the same thing: they look for ways to make the evidence fit the theory to which they have already committed themselves:

Evolutionists have their own framework … into which they try to fit the data.
[my italics]

But, of course, scientists haven’t just found ways of showing how the theory of evolution can be made consistent with the evidence. As we saw above, that theory really is strongly confirmed by the evidence.

Any theory, no matter how absurd, can, with sufficient ingenuity be made to ‘fit’ the evidence: even Dave’s theory that dogs are Venusian spies. That’s not to say it’s reasonable or well confirmed.

Of course, it’s not always unreasonable to explain away evidence. Given overwhelming evidence that water boils at 100 degrees Celsius at 1 atmosphere, a single experiment that appeared to contradict that claim might reasonably be explained away as a result of some unidentified experimental error. But as we increasingly come to rely on explaining away evidence in order to try to convince ourselves of the reasonableness of our belief, we begin to drift into delusion.

Key points – How to think about weird things

  1. Expect unexplained false sightings and huge coincidences. Reports of mysterious and extraordinary hidden agents – such as angels, demons, spirits and gods – are to be expected, whether or not such beings exist. Huge coincidences – such as a piece of toast looking very face-like – are also more or less inevitable.
  2. Understand what strong evidence is. If the alleged evidence for a belief is scarcely more likely if the belief is true than if it’s false, then it’s not strong evidence.
  3. Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. If a claim is extraordinarily improbable – eg, the claim that Alice flew round the room by flapping her arms – much stronger evidence is required for reasonable belief than is required for belief in a more mundane claim, such as that Alice drank a cup of tea.
  4. Beware accumulated anecdotes. A large number of reports of, say, people recovering after taking an alternative medicine or visiting a faith healer is not strong evidence that such treatments actually work.
  5. Beware ‘But it fits!’ Any theory, no matter how ludicrous (even the theory that dogs are spies from Venus), can, with sufficient ingenuity, always be made logically consistent with the evidence. That’s not to say it’s confirmed by the evidence.

Why it matters

Sometimes, belief in weird things is pretty harmless. What does it matter if Mary believes there are fairies at the bottom of her garden, or Joe thinks his dead aunty visits him occasionally? What does it matter if Sally is a closed-minded naysayer when it comes to belief in psychic powers? However, many of these beliefs have serious consequences.

Clearly, people can be exploited. Grieving parents contact spiritualists who offer to put them in contact with their dead children. Peddlers of alternative medicine and faith healing charge exorbitant fees for their ‘cures’ for terminal illnesses. If some alternative medicines really work, casually dismissing them out of hand and refusing to properly consider the evidence could also cost lives.

Lives have certainly been lost. Many have died who might have been saved because they believed they should reject conventional medicine and opted for ineffective alternatives.

Huge amounts of money are often also at stake when it comes to weird beliefs. Psychic reading and astrology are huge businesses with turnovers of billions of dollars per year. Often, it’s the most desperate who will turn to such businesses for advice. Are they, in reality, throwing their money away?

Many ‘weird’ beliefs also have huge social and political implications. The former US president Ronald Reagan and his wife Nancy were reported to have consulted an astrologer before making any major political decision. Conspiracy theories such as QAnon and the Sandy Hook hoax shape our current political landscape and feed extremist political thinking. Mainstream religions are often committed to miracles and gods.

In short, when it comes to belief in weird things, the stakes can be very high indeed. It matters that we don’t delude ourselves into thinking we’re being reasonable when we’re not.

The Atlantic article ‘The Cognitive Biases Tricking Your Brain’ (2018) by Ben Yagoda provides a great introduction to thinking that can lead us astray, including confirmation bias.

The UK-based magazine The Skeptic provides some high-quality free articles on belief in weird things. Well worth a subscription.

The Skeptical Inquirer magazine in the US is also excellent, and provides some free content.

The RationalWiki portal provides many excellent articles on pseudoscience.

The British mathematician Norman Fenton, professor of risk information management at Queen Mary University of London, provides a brief online introduction to Bayesian approaches to assessing evidence.

My book Believing Bullshit: How Not to Get Sucked into an Intellectual Black Hole (2011) identifies eight tricks of the trade that can turn flaky ideas into psychological flytraps – and how to avoid them.

The textbook How to Think About Weird Things: Critical Thinking for a New Age (2019, 8th ed) by the philosophers Theodore Schick and Lewis Vaughn, offers step-by-step advice on sorting through reasons, evaluating evidence and judging the veracity of a claim.

The book Critical Thinking (2017) by Tom Chatfield offers a toolkit for what he calls ‘being reasonable in an unreasonable world’.

‘O movimento antivacina é também um efeito da hiperinformação’ (Nexo)

Entrevista

João Paulo Charleaux – 13 de out de 2021 (atualizado 13/10/2021 às 00h26)

Laurent-Henri Vignaud, historiador da ciência na Universidade de Bourgogne, fala ao ‘Nexo’ sobre as ideias, à direita e à esquerda, por trás do movimento antivacina nos últimos 300 anos

Homem com boné de Trump e máscara rasgada marcha contra medidas sanitárias adotadas na Holanda durante a pandemia da covid-19
Manifestante com máscara rasgada em marcha contra a imposição de um passaporte sanitário na Holanda

A resistência à vacinação é um fenômeno antigo e persistente, que encontra adeptos à esquerda e à direita – sempre nas franjas mais extremas desses setores –, e não está ligado à falta de educação, mas ao excesso de informação e à dificuldade de saber em que acreditar, de acordo com o historiador da ciência Laurent-Henri Vignaud, da Universidade de Bourgogne, na França.

O autor do livro “Antivax: Resistência às vacinas, do século 18 aos Nossos Dias” esmiuça, nesta entrevista concedida por escrito ao Nexo nesta quarta-feira (6), os argumentos dos que ainda resistem a se vacinar contra a covid-19 em todo mundo, e faz um retrospecto desse movimento antivacinal ao longo da história.

Vignaud fará uma conferência virtual sobre o tema no dia 14 de outubro, no ciclo de palestras sobre a Covid promovido pelo Consulado da França em São Paulo em parceria com a Unesco, órgão das Nações Unidas para educação e cultura, e com os Blogs de Ciência da Unicamp. A transmissão é ao vivo e os vídeos ficam disponíveis nos canais do Consulado da França na internet.

Quais são os argumentos daqueles que se opõem à vacinação? Como esses argumentos variaram nos últimos 300 anos?

Laurent-Henri Vignaud Esses argumentos são muito diversos, assim como os perfis “antivax”. Muitos têm dúvidas simples sobre a qualidade das vacinas ou sobre os conflitos de interesse de quem as promove. Outros desenvolvem teorias extremas de conspiração, dizendo que as vacinas são feitas para adoecer, para esterilizar, matar ou escravizar. No meio, há aqueles que “hesitam” por tal ou tal motivo.

Aqueles que recusam explicitamente uma ou mais vacinas – quando falamos estritamente dos “antivax” – o fazem por motivos religiosos, políticos ou alternativos e naturalistas. Há certas correntes rigorosas, em todas as religiões, que recusam a vacinação em nome de um princípio fatalista e providencialista, numa afirmação da ideia de que o homem não é senhor de seu próprio destino.

Já os que se opõem às vacinas por razões políticas atacam as leis impositivas em nome da livre disposição de seus corpos e das liberdades individuais, no discurso do “meu corpo me pertence”.

Outros, muito numerosos hoje, contestam a eficácia das vacinas e defendem outras terapias que vão desde regimes de saúde a fitoterápicos e homeopatia – o que aparece em discursos como “a imunidade natural é superior à imunidade a vacinas” e “as doenças nos fortalecem”. A maioria desses argumentos está presente desde o início da polêmica vacinal no final do século 18, mas se atualizam de maneira diferente em cada época.

Historicamente, o movimento antivacinação é de direita ou de esquerda? Isso é algo que mudou ao longo do tempo ou permanece o mesmo?

Laurent-Henri Vignaud Atualmente, as duas tendências existem: há uma postura “ecológica” antivacina que é bastante esquerdista e burguesa – um modelo muito difundido por exemplo na Califórnia entre funcionários de empresas digitais. E há uma postura “libertária” ou “confessional” antivacina, que é de direita, presente sobretudo na América, em círculos religiosos conservadores e partidários de líderes populistas como [o ex-presidente dos EUA Donald] Trump ou [o presidente do Brasil, Jair] Bolsonaro.

Em meio a um grupo, um manifestante levanta uma placa com a frase "não queremos a vacina chinesa"
Manifestante exibe cartaz contra vacina em protesto na Avenida Paulista

Historicamente, a inoculação, técnica que antecedeu as vacinas no século 18, foi promovida por filósofos como Voltaire [iluminista francês, 1694-1778] e contrariada por homens da Igreja. Portanto, podemos classificar essa oposição como uma oposição à direita. No século 19, a dureza das medidas de vacinação obrigatória levou à revolta de setores mais pobres que não podiam escapar da injeção. O vacinismo aparece aí como higiene social e o antivacinismo, como algo protagonizado por movimentos operários, feministas e de defesa dos animais, mais marcadamente à esquerda, portanto.

A Revolta da Vacina, de 1904, no Brasil, foi desencadeada por uma campanha de vacinação forçada pretendida pela jovem República, que gerou motins na classe trabalhadora. No século 20, o antivacinismo está representado à direita e à esquerda, mas quase sempre nos extremos.

O que explica por que a França, país desenvolvido, rico, cientificamente avançado, onde não faltam fontes confiáveis de informação, tenha hoje uma resistência tão elevada à vacinação, mesmo entre os profissionais de saúde?

Laurent-Henri Vignaud Esse é um fenômeno recente. A França não está isenta da tradição antivacinal. Na verdade, essa era uma tradição até bastante virulenta na época de Pasteur [século 19], a ponto de atrasar o estabelecimento de uma obrigação de vacinar contra a varíola, mas esta não é uma opinião muito difundida até o início do anos 2000.

Por exemplo, nossa primeira liga “antivax” apareceu em 1954 após a entrada em vigor da obrigação do BCG, mas, à época, os ingleses e os americanos já tinha ligas “antivax” há quase um século.

Duas pessoas estendem os braços mostrando a tela de seus celulares, com o passe sanitário instituído pelo governo, diante das mesas de um café em Paris
Clientes exibem passe sanitário em seus celulares num café de Paris

Durante a última epidemia de varíola na Bretanha em 1954-1955, na altura em que o prefeito decretou o reforço da vacinação obrigatória, mais de 90% dos habitantes concernidos já tinham sido vacinados voluntariamente.

Essa confiança foi abalada durante o debate sobre a vacina contra a hepatite B em meados da década de 1990, até porque os políticos se contradiziam sobre sua possível periculosidade. E, na crise do do influenza A em 2009, a campanha de vacinação falhou. Os franceses não acreditavam na possibilidade de uma pandemia e não entendiam por que deveriam ter sido vacinados contra uma doença na qual não viam perigo. Talvez o choque da pandemia de covid reverta essa tendência.

Como você explica o fato de que os boatos, o misticismo e a irracionalidade persistam, mesmo em uma época em que a ciência se desenvolveu tanto, mesmo em uma época em que a educação formal alcançou tantos? Essa adesão às teorias da conspiração seria uma característica humana inextinguível?

Laurent-Henri Vignaud A suspeita de riscos tecnológicos – porque a vacina é um produto manufaturado – não se alimenta da falta de informação, mas de seu transbordamento. É por sermos inundados com informações e por não podermos lidar com um décimo delas que nós duvidamos.

Quem de nós pode explicar, ainda que de forma grosseira, como funciona algo tão difundido como um telefone celular? Diante dessa superabundância de quebra-cabeças técnico-científicos e de conhecimentos que não podemos assimilar, os cidadãos 2.0 fazem seu mercado e acreditam no que querem acreditar de acordo com o que consideram ser do seu interesse.

A maioria confia em palavras de autoridade e no pouco que conseguem entender de tudo o que chega a si. Alguns ficam insatisfeitos com as respostas que lhes são dadas e passam a duvidar de tudo, chegando a imaginar universos paralelos e paranóicos. Não é, portanto, na ignorância que estas crenças se baseiam, mas sim num “ônus da prova”, que pesa cada vez mais sobre os ombros dos cidadãos contemporâneos.

Nessa “sociedade de risco”, os cidadãos contemporâneos são cada vez mais instados a assumir a responsabilidade por si próprios e julgar por si próprios o que é verdadeiro e o que é falso. Em alguns, o espírito crítico se empolga e leva a uma forma de ceticismo radical da qual o antivacinismo é um bom exemplo.

Negacionismo de sapatênis (Folha de S.Paulo)

Não é com desinformação que o jornalismo contribuirá ao tema do clima

Thiago Amparo – artigo original aqui.

11.ago.2021 às 22h05

A perversidade do negacionismo recai em jurar que se está dizendo o contrário do que de fato se diz. Nesta novilíngua, negacionismo veste o sapatênis do antialarmismo. Chega a ser tedioso, posto que mofado, o argumento de Leandro Narloch nesta Folha na terça (10). Mofado pois —como relata Michael Mann em “The New Climate War”— não passa da mesma retórica negacionista 2.0.

Em essência, Narloch defende que há atividades nocivas ao clima que devem ser “celebradas e difundidas” por nos tornar “menos vulneráveis à natureza”. Narloch está cientificamente errado. E o faz subscrevendo a uma das formas mais nefárias de negacionismo: mascara-o, vendendo soluções que não só não são capazes de mitigar e adaptar as sociedades à crise climática como possuem o efeito adverso. Implode-se a Amazônia para salvá-la, eis o argumento.

Esses e outros discursos negacionistas já tinham sido mapeados na revista Global Sustaintability, de Cambridge, em julho de 2020: não são novos. Em vez de mexer em tabus do século 21, vendem-se inverdades como se ciência fosse. Narloch erra no conceito de vulnerabilidade: dos incêndios florestais na Califórnia às inundações na Alemanha, não estamos protegidos contra a natureza porque nela estamos inseridos. Ignora, ademais, a vasta literatura do Painel do Clima sobre vulnerabilidade.

Narloch desconsidera o conceito da ciência climática de “feedback loops”: a crise climática aciona uma série de gatilhos de dimensão incalculável, uma reação de cadeia nunca vista. Destruir o clima não nos protegerá do clima, porque é a ausência de uma mudança drástica energética que tem aprofundado a crise climática. É ineficiente o investir no contrário.

Se o relatório do Painel do Clima acendeu o sinal vermelho, não é com desinformação que o jornalismo contribuirá ao tema. Pluralismo é um rio onde as ideias se movem dentro das margens da verdade e da ciência. Não reclamem quando o rio secar, implodindo as margens que o jornalismo deveria ter protegido.

Clima nos apavora justamente quando conseguimos sobreviver a ele (Folha de S.Paulo)

Luta contra o aquecimento global precisa de inovadores, e não de ativistas obcecados com o apocalipse

Leandro Narloch – artigo original aqui.

11.ago.2021 às 8h56

Na sua opinião, o que aconteceu nos últimos cem anos com o número total de mortes causadas por furacões, inundações, secas, ondas de calor e outros desastres climáticos? Peço que escolha uma destas alternativas:

  • a) Aumentou mais de 800%
  • b) Aumentou cerca de 50%
  • c) Manteve-se constante
  • d) Diminuiu cerca de 50%
  • e) Diminuiu mais de 80%

Como a população mundial cresceu de 1,8 bilhão em 1921 para 8 bilhões em 2021, é razoável cravar as respostas B ou C, pois o fato de haver mais pessoas resultaria em mais vítimas. Muitos leitores devem ter escolhido a primeira opção, tendo em vista as notícias assustadoras do relatório do IPCC desta semana.

A alternativa correta, porém, é a última. As mortes por desastres naturais diminuíram 87% desde a década de 1920 até os anos 2010, segundo dados coletados pelo Our World in Data.

Passaram de 540 mil por ano para 68 mil. A taxa em relação à população teve picos de 63 mortes por 100 mil habitantes em 1921, e 176 em 1931. Hoje está em 0,15.

Esses números levam a dois paradoxos interessantes sobre a relação entre o homem e o clima. O primeiro lembra o Paradoxo de Spencer –referência a Herbert Spencer, para quem “o grau de preocupação pública sobre um problema ou fenômeno social varia inversamente a sua incidência”.

Assim como os ingleses se deram conta da pobreza quando ela começava a diminuir, durante a Revolução Industrial, a humanidade está apavorada com os infortúnios do clima justamente depois de conseguir sobreviver a eles.

O segundo paradoxo: ao mesmo tempo em que emitimos muito (mas muito mesmo) carbono na atmosfera e causamos um grave problema de efeito estufa, também nos tornamos menos vulneráveis à natureza. Na verdade, proteger-se do clima foi um dos principais motivos para termos poluído tanto.

Veja o caso da construção. Produzir cimento consiste grosseiramente em queimar calcário e liberar dióxido de carbono.

Se a indústria de cimento fosse um país, seria o terceiro maior emissor de gases do efeito estufa. Mas essa indústria poluidora permitiu que as pessoas deixassem casas de pau-a-pique ou madeira para dormirem abrigadas em estruturas mais seguras.

Já a fome originada pela seca, principal causa de morte por desastres naturais nos anos 1920, foi resolvida com a criação dos fertilizantes químicos, sistemas de irrigação e a construção de represas e redes de saneamento.

Todas essas atividades causaram aquecimento global –mas não deixam de ser grandes conquistas humanas, que merecem ser celebradas e difundidas entre os pobres que ainda vivem sob risco de morrer durante furacões, secas ou inundações.

Será que a queda histórica das mortes por desastres naturais vai se reverter nos próximos anos, tornando realidade os vaticínios apocalípticos de Greta Thunberg, para quem “bilhões de pessoas morrerão se não tomarmos medidas urgentes”?

O ativista climático Michael Shellenberger, autor do brilhante “Apocalipse Nunca”, que será lançado este mês no Brasil pela editora LVM, acha que não.

Pretendo falar mais sobre o livro de Shellenberger em outras colunas, mas já adianto um dos argumentos: o alarmismo ambiental despreza a capacidade humana de se adaptar e resolver problemas.

“Os Países Baixos, por exemplo, tornaram-se uma nação rica mesmo tendo um terço de suas terras abaixo do nível do mar, incluindo áreas que estão nada menos do que sete metros abaixo do mar”, diz ele.

A luta contra o aquecimento global não precisa de ativistas obcecados com o apocalipse (que geralmente desprezam soluções óbvias, como a energia nuclear). Precisa de tecnologia, de inovadores, de gente que dê mais conforto e segurança à humanidade interferindo na natureza cada vez menos.

O bolsonarismo como ecossistema, explica Hamilton Carvalho (Poder360)

poder360.com.br

Fenômeno é mais que um movimento

A produção de certezas é um alívio

Sistema agrupa segmentos distintos

Mortos da covid se tornam um detalhe

O presidente com apoiadores no Palácio da Alvorada: bolsonarismo é melhor entendido como um sistema político-social

Hamilton Carvalho 24.abr.2021 (sábado) – 5h50 atualizado: 24.abr.2021 (sábado) – 7h10 5-6 minutos


Google, Nespresso, Amazon e Magalu. Na chamada economia da atenção, a concorrência hoje é, cada vez mais, entre ecossistemas, geralmente capitaneados por uma grande empresa e que abrigam várias organizações em uma rede de dependência e complementaridade.

Ganha quem conseguir satisfazer mais necessidades dos consumidores dentro do mesmo sistema. Para usar o jargão, quem consegue oferecer uma proposição de valor superior.

A ideia em si não é tão nova assim. O impulso veio com a economia digital, mas é possível identificar ecossistemas nos mais diversos contextos, do mundo do futebol e do crime aos sistemas sociais de educação e saúde. Inclusive no conglomerado de organizações que tem se dedicado ao combate à pandemia, que inclui atores do setor privado (como no caso da recente compra do kit intubação) e que deveria ter sido adequadamente capitaneado pelo governo federal.

Mas cá estamos, rumo a meio milhão de mortos. Bolsonaro poderia ter saído como herói da coisa toda, como Bibi em Israel, mas, vivendo da lógica de bunker, preferiu jogar areia nessas engrenagens desde o início, enquanto o Brasil regride institucionalmente a olhos vistos.

Curiosamente, isso não tem sido suficiente para corroer o lastro que o presidente mantém no pedaço conservador de Brasil, que tem racionalizado sem grandes dificuldades o mar de chorume produzido pela covid.

Encarar o bolsonarismo como ecossistema –mais do que um movimento social apoiado por um exército digital– ajuda a entender o fenômeno. Primeiro porque, como sabemos, a atenção das pessoas se tornou superfragmentada e o mundo não anda fácil de ser entendido.

Ecossistemas político-sociais levam vantagem quando conseguem satisfazer uma necessidade humana básica, o conforto das grandes certezas. Uma boa e sólida certeza vale como um barbitúrico irresistível, dizia Nelson Rodrigues. Em um país com nível educacional baixo, essas certezas podem se dar ao luxo de sapatear na cara da realidade.

O bolsonarismo também dá de bandeja aos seguidores uma identidade carregada de tintas morais e, novamente, não há nada de novo aqui –basta lembrar de exemplos próximos, como o chavismo e o lulopetismo. Em outras palavras, o sujeito se sente superior e ganha uma tribo para chamar de sua.

É essa a atual proposição de valor do ecossistema criado em torno do presidente. Não é pouco, ainda que o conjunto já tenha tido mais força quando esgrimia o discurso contra a corrupção e a lábia liberal.

Em torno desse valor, diversos segmentos se agrupam. Tem aquilo que reportagem no El País chamou de QAnon tupiniquim, gente produzindo fake news e usando robôs para influenciar o discurso nas redes sociais.

Tem aquele segmento empresarial “raiz”, madeireiros na Amazônia, por exemplo, fora aquelas grandes empresas que, assim como o Centrão, estão quase sempre à disposição para uma ovacionada, no matter what.

Tem os políticos, os apoiadores de nicho (como os atiradores), os produtores de conteúdo lacrador, os canais de comunicação e parte (presumo) dos militares e policiais. E se a mexerica toda perdeu os lavajatistas, ganhou de presente um gomo suculento que tem sido crucial para sua resiliência, o dos médicos e influenciadores cloroquiners.

Cada segmento desses têm recursos e competências que usa em prol da causa. Por exemplo, a audiência cativa de uma rádio ou a credibilidade extraterrestre que os brasileiros atribuem aos médicos, mesmo que sejam leigos em medicina baseada em evidências.

Cada um deles desempenha atividades diversas mas complementares, reforçando a proposição de valor (lembremos: grandes certezas e identidade moral superior). A lista é longa e inclui organização de protestos, veiculação de programas de opinião em rádio e os encontros empresariais que lustram a legitimidade do governo com o gel do capitalismo de compadrio.

No que é crítico, cada segmento se apropria de uma parte do valor gerado pelo conjunto. Políticos se apropriam de capital eleitoral. Emissoras, de exclusivas com o presidente e audiência. Médicos cloroquiners ganham chuvas de pacientes. Influenciadores e manipuladores de conteúdo ganham seguidores ou, como suspeita a CPMI das fake news, empregos em gabinetes. Entidades empresariais mantem abertos os canais com Brasília. Os mortos são só um detalhe incômodo na paisagem.

Minha percepção é que a disputa de 2022 deve ocorrer mais nesse nível amplificado. Concorrentes precisam começar a colocar de pé seus ecossistemas desde já, de preferência em torno de valores mais racionais e menos divisivos. Não vai ser fácil.

Michael E. Mann: “My Comments on New National Academy Report on Geoengineering”

By Michael E. Mann on Thursday, March 25, 2021 – 12:26

Original text

The U.S. National Academy of Sciences has published a new report (“Reflecting Sunlight“) on the topic of Geoengineering (that is, the deliberate manipulation of the global Earth environment in an effort to offset the effects of human carbon pollution-caused climate change). While I am, in full disclosure, a member of the Academy, I offer the following comments in an entirely independent capacity:

Let me start by congratulating the authors on their comprehensive assessment of the science. It is solid as we would expect, since the author team and reviewers cover that well in their expertise. The science underlying geoengineering is the true remit of the study. Chris Field , the lead author, is a duly qualified person to lead the effort, and did a good job making sure that intricacies of the science are covered, including the substantial uncertainties and caveats when it comes to the potential environmental impacts of some of the riskier geoengineering strategies (i.e. stratosphere sulphate aerosol injection to block out sunlight).

I like the fact that there is a discussion of the importance of labels and terminology and how this can impact public perception. For example, the oft-used term “solar radiation management” is not favored by the report authors, as it can be misleading (we don’t have our hand on a dial that controls solar output). On the other hand, I think that the term they do chose to use “solar geoengineering”, is still potentially problematic, because it still implies we’re directly modify solar output—but that’s not the case. We’re talking about messing with Earth’s atmospheric chemistry, we’re not dialing down the sun, even though many of the modeling experiments assume that’s what we’re doing. It’s a bit of a bait and switch. Even the title of the report, “Reflecting Sunlight” falls victim to this biased framing.

In my recent book (“The New Climate War”), I quote one leading scientist on this:

“They don’t actually put aerosols in the atmosphere. They turn down the Sun to mimic geoengineering. You might think that is relatively unimportant . . . [but] controlling the Sun is effectively a perfect knob. We know almost precisely how a reduction in solar flux will project onto the energy balance of a planet. Aerosol-climate interactions are much more complex.”

I have a deeper and more substantive concern though, and it really is about the entire framing of the report. A report like this is as much about the policy message it conveys as it is about the scientific assessment, for it will be used immediately by policy advocates. And here I’m honestly troubled at the fodder it provides for mis-framing of the risks.

I recognize that the authors are dealing with a contentious and still much-debated topic, and it’s a challenge to represent the full range of views within the community, but the opening of the report itself, in my view, really puts a thumb on the scales. It falls victim to the moral hazard that I warn about in “The New Climate War” when it states, as justification for potentially considering implementing these geoengineering schemes:

But despite overwhelming evidence that the climate crisis is real and pressing, emissions of greenhouse gases continue to increase, with global emissions of fossil carbon dioxide rising 10.8 percent from 2010 through 2019. The total for 2020 is on track to decrease in response to decreased economic activity related to the COVID-19 pandemic. The pandemic is thus providing frustrating confirmation of the fact that the world has made little progress in separating economic activity from carbon dioxide emissions.

First of all, the discussion of carbon emissions reductions there is misleading. Emissions flattened in the years before the pandemic, and the International Energy Agency (IEA) specifically attributed that flattening to a decrease in carbon emissions globally in the power generation sector. These reductions continue on and contributed at least party to the 7% decrease in global emissions last year. We will certainly need policy interventions favoring further decarbonization to maintain that level of decrease year after year, but if we can do that, we remain on a path to limiting warming below dangerous levels (decent chance less than 1.5C and very good chance less than 2C) without resorting on very risky geoengineering schemes. It is a matter of political willpower, not technology–we have the technology now necessary to decarbonize our economy.

The authors are basically arguing that because carbon reductions haven’t been great enough (thanks to successful opposition by polluters and their advocates) we should consider geoengineering. That framing (unintentionally, I realize) provides precisely the crutch that polluters are looking for.

As I explain in the book:

A fundamental problem with geoengineering is that it presents what is known as a moral hazard, namely, a scenario in which one party (e.g., the fossil fuel industry) promotes actions that are risky for another party (e.g., the rest of us), but seemingly advantageous to itself. Geoengineering provides a potential crutch for beneficiaries of our continued dependence on fossil fuels. Why threaten our economy with draconian regulations on carbon when we have a cheap alternative? The two main problems with that argument are that (1) climate change poses a far greater threat to our economy than decarbonization, and (2) geoengineering is hardly cheap—it comes with great potential harm.

So, in short, this report is somewhat of a mixed bag. The scientific assessment and discussion is solid, and there is a discussion of uncertainties and caveats in the detailed report. But the spin in the opening falls victim to moral hazard and will provide fodder for geoengineering advocates to use in leveraging policy decision-making.

I am somewhat troubled by that.

5 Pandemic Mistakes We Keep Repeating (The Atlantic)

theatlantic.com

Zeynep Tufekci

February 26, 2021


We can learn from our failures.
Photo illustration showing a Trump press conference, a vaccine syringe, and Anthony Fauci
Alex Wong / Chet Strange/ Sarah Silbiger / Bloomberg / Getty / The Atlantic

When the polio vaccine was declared safe and effective, the news was met with jubilant celebration. Church bells rang across the nation, and factories blew their whistles. “Polio routed!” newspaper headlines exclaimed. “An historic victory,” “monumental,” “sensational,” newscasters declared. People erupted with joy across the United States. Some danced in the streets; others wept. Kids were sent home from school to celebrate.

One might have expected the initial approval of the coronavirus vaccines to spark similar jubilation—especially after a brutal pandemic year. But that didn’t happen. Instead, the steady drumbeat of good news about the vaccines has been met with a chorus of relentless pessimism.

The problem is not that the good news isn’t being reported, or that we should throw caution to the wind just yet. It’s that neither the reporting nor the public-health messaging has reflected the truly amazing reality of these vaccines. There is nothing wrong with realism and caution, but effective communication requires a sense of proportion—distinguishing between due alarm and alarmism; warranted, measured caution and doombait; worst-case scenarios and claims of impending catastrophe. We need to be able to celebrate profoundly positive news while noting the work that still lies ahead. However, instead of balanced optimism since the launch of the vaccines, the public has been offered a lot of misguided fretting over new virus variants, subjected to misleading debates about the inferiority of certain vaccines, and presented with long lists of things vaccinated people still cannot do, while media outlets wonder whether the pandemic will ever end.

This pessimism is sapping people of energy to get through the winter, and the rest of this pandemic. Anti-vaccination groups and those opposing the current public-health measures have been vigorously amplifying the pessimistic messages—especially the idea that getting vaccinated doesn’t mean being able to do more—telling their audiences that there is no point in compliance, or in eventual vaccination, because it will not lead to any positive changes. They are using the moment and the messaging to deepen mistrust of public-health authorities, accusing them of moving the goalposts and implying that we’re being conned. Either the vaccines aren’t as good as claimed, they suggest, or the real goal of pandemic-safety measures is to control the public, not the virus.

Five key fallacies and pitfalls have affected public-health messaging, as well as media coverage, and have played an outsize role in derailing an effective pandemic response. These problems were deepened by the ways that we—the public—developed to cope with a dreadful situation under great uncertainty. And now, even as vaccines offer brilliant hope, and even though, at least in the United States, we no longer have to deal with the problem of a misinformer in chief, some officials and media outlets are repeating many of the same mistakes in handling the vaccine rollout.

The pandemic has given us an unwelcome societal stress test, revealing the cracks and weaknesses in our institutions and our systems. Some of these are common to many contemporary problems, including political dysfunction and the way our public sphere operates. Others are more particular, though not exclusive, to the current challenge—including a gap between how academic research operates and how the public understands that research, and the ways in which the psychology of coping with the pandemic have distorted our response to it.

Recognizing all these dynamics is important, not only for seeing us through this pandemic—yes, it is going to end—but also to understand how our society functions, and how it fails. We need to start shoring up our defenses, not just against future pandemics but against all the myriad challenges we face—political, environmental, societal, and technological. None of these problems is impossible to remedy, but first we have to acknowledge them and start working to fix them—and we’re running out of time.

The past 12 months were incredibly challenging for almost everyone. Public-health officials were fighting a devastating pandemic and, at least in this country, an administration hell-bent on undermining them. The World Health Organization was not structured or funded for independence or agility, but still worked hard to contain the disease. Many researchers and experts noted the absence of timely and trustworthy guidelines from authorities, and tried to fill the void by communicating their findings directly to the public on social media. Reporters tried to keep the public informed under time and knowledge constraints, which were made more severe by the worsening media landscape. And the rest of us were trying to survive as best we could, looking for guidance where we could, and sharing information when we could, but always under difficult, murky conditions.

Despite all these good intentions, much of the public-health messaging has been profoundly counterproductive. In five specific ways, the assumptions made by public officials, the choices made by traditional media, the way our digital public sphere operates, and communication patterns between academic communities and the public proved flawed.

Risk Compensation

One of the most important problems undermining the pandemic response has been the mistrust and paternalism that some public-health agencies and experts have exhibited toward the public. A key reason for this stance seems to be that some experts feared that people would respond to something that increased their safety—such as masks, rapid tests, or vaccines—by behaving recklessly. They worried that a heightened sense of safety would lead members of the public to take risks that would not just undermine any gains, but reverse them.

The theory that things that improve our safety might provide a false sense of security and lead to reckless behavior is attractive—it’s contrarian and clever, and fits the “here’s something surprising we smart folks thought about” mold that appeals to, well, people who think of themselves as smart. Unsurprisingly, such fears have greeted efforts to persuade the public to adopt almost every advance in safety, including seat belts, helmets, and condoms.

But time and again, the numbers tell a different story: Even if safety improvements cause a few people to behave recklessly, the benefits overwhelm the ill effects. In any case, most people are already interested in staying safe from a dangerous pathogen. Further, even at the beginning of the pandemic, sociological theory predicted that wearing masks would be associated with increased adherence to other precautionary measures—people interested in staying safe are interested in staying safe—and empirical research quickly confirmed exactly that. Unfortunately, though, the theory of risk compensation—and its implicit assumptions—continue to haunt our approach, in part because there hasn’t been a reckoning with the initial missteps.

Rules in Place of Mechanisms and Intuitions

Much of the public messaging focused on offering a series of clear rules to ordinary people, instead of explaining in detail the mechanisms of viral transmission for this pathogen. A focus on explaining transmission mechanisms, and updating our understanding over time, would have helped empower people to make informed calculations about risk in different settings. Instead, both the CDC and the WHO chose to offer fixed guidelines that lent a false sense of precision.

In the United States, the public was initially told that “close contact” meant coming within six feet of an infected individual, for 15 minutes or more. This messaging led to ridiculous gaming of the rules; some establishments moved people around at the 14th minute to avoid passing the threshold. It also led to situations in which people working indoors with others, but just outside the cutoff of six feet, felt that they could take their mask off. None of this made any practical sense. What happened at minute 16? Was seven feet okay? Faux precision isn’t more informative; it’s misleading.

All of this was complicated by the fact that key public-health agencies like the CDC and the WHO were late to acknowledge the importance of some key infection mechanisms, such as aerosol transmission. Even when they did so, the shift happened without a proportional change in the guidelines or the messaging—it was easy for the general public to miss its significance.

Frustrated by the lack of public communication from health authorities, I wrote an article last July on what we then knew about the transmission of this pathogen—including how it could be spread via aerosols that can float and accumulate, especially in poorly ventilated indoor spaces. To this day, I’m contacted by people who describe workplaces that are following the formal guidelines, but in ways that defy reason: They’ve installed plexiglass, but barred workers from opening their windows; they’ve mandated masks, but only when workers are within six feet of one another, while permitting them to be taken off indoors during breaks.

Perhaps worst of all, our messaging and guidelines elided the difference between outdoor and indoor spaces, where, given the importance of aerosol transmission, the same precautions should not apply. This is especially important because this pathogen is overdispersed: Much of the spread is driven by a few people infecting many others at once, while most people do not transmit the virus at all.

After I wrote an article explaining how overdispersion and super-spreading were driving the pandemic, I discovered that this mechanism had also been poorly explained. I was inundated by messages from people, including elected officials around the world, saying they had no idea that this was the case. None of it was secret—numerous academic papers and articles had been written about it—but it had not been integrated into our messaging or our guidelines despite its great importance.

Crucially, super-spreading isn’t equally distributed; poorly ventilated indoor spaces can facilitate the spread of the virus over longer distances, and in shorter periods of time, than the guidelines suggested, and help fuel the pandemic.

Outdoors? It’s the opposite.

There is a solid scientific reason for the fact that there are relatively few documented cases of transmission outdoors, even after a year of epidemiological work: The open air dilutes the virus very quickly, and the sun helps deactivate it, providing further protection. And super-spreading—the biggest driver of the pandemic— appears to be an exclusively indoor phenomenon. I’ve been tracking every report I can find for the past year, and have yet to find a confirmed super-spreading event that occurred solely outdoors. Such events might well have taken place, but if the risk were great enough to justify altering our lives, I would expect at least a few to have been documented by now.

And yet our guidelines do not reflect these differences, and our messaging has not helped people understand these facts so that they can make better choices. I published my first article pleading for parks to be kept open on April 7, 2020—but outdoor activities are still banned by some authorities today, a full year after this dreaded virus began to spread globally.

We’d have been much better off if we gave people a realistic intuition about this virus’s transmission mechanisms. Our public guidelines should have been more like Japan’s, which emphasize avoiding the three C’s—closed spaces, crowded places, and close contact—that are driving the pandemic.

Scolding and Shaming

Throughout the past year, traditional and social media have been caught up in a cycle of shaming—made worse by being so unscientific and misguided. How dare you go to the beach? newspapers have scolded us for months, despite lacking evidence that this posed any significant threat to public health. It wasn’t just talk: Many cities closed parks and outdoor recreational spaces, even as they kept open indoor dining and gyms. Just this month, UC Berkeley and the University of Massachusetts at Amherst both banned students from taking even solitary walks outdoors.

Even when authorities relax the rules a bit, they do not always follow through in a sensible manner. In the United Kingdom, after some locales finally started allowing children to play on playgrounds—something that was already way overdue—they quickly ruled that parents must not socialize while their kids have a normal moment. Why not? Who knows?

On social media, meanwhile, pictures of people outdoors without masks draw reprimands, insults, and confident predictions of super-spreading—and yet few note when super-spreading fails to follow.

While visible but low-risk activities attract the scolds, other actual risks—in workplaces and crowded households, exacerbated by the lack of testing or paid sick leave—are not as easily accessible to photographers. Stefan Baral, an associate epidemiology professor at the Johns Hopkins Bloomberg School of Public Health, says that it’s almost as if we’ve “designed a public-health response most suitable for higher-income” groups and the “Twitter generation”—stay home; have your groceries delivered; focus on the behaviors you can photograph and shame online—rather than provide the support and conditions necessary for more people to keep themselves safe.

And the viral videos shaming people for failing to take sensible precautions, such as wearing masks indoors, do not necessarily help. For one thing, fretting over the occasional person throwing a tantrum while going unmasked in a supermarket distorts the reality: Most of the public has been complying with mask wearing. Worse, shaming is often an ineffective way of getting people to change their behavior, and it entrenches polarization and discourages disclosure, making it harder to fight the virus. Instead, we should be emphasizing safer behavior and stressing how many people are doing their part, while encouraging others to do the same.

Harm Reduction

Amidst all the mistrust and the scolding, a crucial public-health concept fell by the wayside. Harm reduction is the recognition that if there is an unmet and yet crucial human need, we cannot simply wish it away; we need to advise people on how to do what they seek to do more safely. Risk can never be completely eliminated; life requires more than futile attempts to bring risk down to zero. Pretending we can will away complexities and trade-offs with absolutism is counterproductive. Consider abstinence-only education: Not letting teenagers know about ways to have safer sex results in more of them having sex with no protections.

As Julia Marcus, an epidemiologist and associate professor at Harvard Medical School, told me, “When officials assume that risks can be easily eliminated, they might neglect the other things that matter to people: staying fed and housed, being close to loved ones, or just enjoying their lives. Public health works best when it helps people find safer ways to get what they need and want.””

Another problem with absolutism is the “abstinence violation” effect, Joshua Barocas, an assistant professor at the Boston University School of Medicine and Infectious Diseases, told me. When we set perfection as the only option, it can cause people who fall short of that standard in one small, particular way to decide that they’ve already failed, and might as well give up entirely. Most people who have attempted a diet or a new exercise regimen are familiar with this psychological state. The better approach is encouraging risk reduction and layered mitigation—emphasizing that every little bit helps—while also recognizing that a risk-free life is neither possible nor desirable.

Socializing is not a luxury—kids need to play with one another, and adults need to interact. Your kids can play together outdoors, and outdoor time is the best chance to catch up with your neighbors is not just a sensible message; it’s a way to decrease transmission risks. Some kids will play and some adults will socialize no matter what the scolds say or public-health officials decree, and they’ll do it indoors, out of sight of the scolding.

And if they don’t? Then kids will be deprived of an essential activity, and adults will be deprived of human companionship. Socializing is perhaps the most important predictor of health and longevity, after not smoking and perhaps exercise and a healthy diet. We need to help people socialize more safely, not encourage them to stop socializing entirely.

The Balance Between Knowledge And Action

Last but not least, the pandemic response has been distorted by a poor balance between knowledge, risk, certainty, and action.

Sometimes, public-health authorities insisted that we did not know enough to act, when the preponderance of evidence already justified precautionary action. Wearing masks, for example, posed few downsides, and held the prospect of mitigating the exponential threat we faced. The wait for certainty hampered our response to airborne transmission, even though there was almost no evidence for—and increasing evidence against—the importance of fomites, or objects that can carry infection. And yet, we emphasized the risk of surface transmission while refusing to properly address the risk of airborne transmission, despite increasing evidence. The difference lay not in the level of evidence and scientific support for either theory—which, if anything, quickly tilted in favor of airborne transmission, and not fomites, being crucial—but in the fact that fomite transmission had been a key part of the medical canon, and airborne transmission had not.

Sometimes, experts and the public discussion failed to emphasize that we were balancing risks, as in the recurring cycles of debate over lockdowns or school openings. We should have done more to acknowledge that there were no good options, only trade-offs between different downsides. As a result, instead of recognizing the difficulty of the situation, too many people accused those on the other side of being callous and uncaring.

And sometimes, the way that academics communicate clashed with how the public constructs knowledge. In academia, publishing is the coin of the realm, and it is often done through rejecting the null hypothesis—meaning that many papers do not seek to prove something conclusively, but instead, to reject the possibility that a variable has no relationship with the effect they are measuring (beyond chance). If that sounds convoluted, it is—there are historical reasons for this methodology and big arguments within academia about its merits, but for the moment, this remains standard practice.

At crucial points during the pandemic, though, this resulted in mistranslations and fueled misunderstandings, which were further muddled by differing stances toward prior scientific knowledge and theory. Yes, we faced a novel coronavirus, but we should have started by assuming that we could make some reasonable projections from prior knowledge, while looking out for anything that might prove different. That prior experience should have made us mindful of seasonality, the key role of overdispersion, and aerosol transmission. A keen eye for what was different from the past would have alerted us earlier to the importance of presymptomatic transmission.

Thus, on January 14, 2020, the WHO stated that there was “no clear evidence of human-to-human transmission.” It should have said, “There is increasing likelihood that human-to-human transmission is taking place, but we haven’t yet proven this, because we have no access to Wuhan, China.” (Cases were already popping up around the world at that point.) Acting as if there was human-to-human transmission during the early weeks of the pandemic would have been wise and preventive.

Later that spring, WHO officials stated that there was “currently no evidence that people who have recovered from COVID-19 and have antibodies are protected from a second infection,” producing many articles laden with panic and despair. Instead, it should have said: “We expect the immune system to function against this virus, and to provide some immunity for some period of time, but it is still hard to know specifics because it is so early.”

Similarly, since the vaccines were announced, too many statements have emphasized that we don’t yet know if vaccines prevent transmission. Instead, public-health authorities should have said that we have many reasons to expect, and increasing amounts of data to suggest, that vaccines will blunt infectiousness, but that we’re waiting for additional data to be more precise about it. That’s been unfortunate, because while many, many things have gone wrong during this pandemic, the vaccines are one thing that has gone very, very right.

As late as April 2020, Anthony Fauci was slammed for being too optimistic for suggesting we might plausibly have vaccines in a year to 18 months. We had vaccines much, much sooner than that: The first two vaccine trials concluded a mere eight months after the WHO declared a pandemic in March 2020.

Moreover, they have delivered spectacular results. In June 2020, the FDA said a vaccine that was merely 50 percent efficacious in preventing symptomatic COVID-19 would receive emergency approval—that such a benefit would be sufficient to justify shipping it out immediately. Just a few months after that, the trials of the Moderna and Pfizer vaccines concluded by reporting not just a stunning 95 percent efficacy, but also a complete elimination of hospitalization or death among the vaccinated. Even severe disease was practically gone: The lone case classified as “severe” among 30,000 vaccinated individuals in the trials was so mild that the patient needed no medical care, and her case would not have been considered severe if her oxygen saturation had been a single percent higher.

These are exhilarating developments, because global, widespread, and rapid vaccination is our way out of this pandemic. Vaccines that drastically reduce hospitalizations and deaths, and that diminish even severe disease to a rare event, are the closest things we have had in this pandemic to a miracle—though of course they are the product of scientific research, creativity, and hard work. They are going to be the panacea and the endgame.

And yet, two months into an accelerating vaccination campaign in the United States, it would be hard to blame people if they missed the news that things are getting better.

Yes, there are new variants of the virus, which may eventually require booster shots, but at least so far, the existing vaccines are standing up to them well—very, very well. Manufacturers are already working on new vaccines or variant-focused booster versions, in case they prove necessary, and the authorizing agencies are ready for a quick turnaround if and when updates are needed. Reports from places that have vaccinated large numbers of individuals, and even trials in places where variants are widespread, are exceedingly encouraging, with dramatic reductions in cases and, crucially, hospitalizations and deaths among the vaccinated. Global equity and access to vaccines remain crucial concerns, but the supply is increasing.

Here in the United States, despite the rocky rollout and the need to smooth access and ensure equity, it’s become clear that toward the end of spring 2021, supply will be more than sufficient. It may sound hard to believe today, as many who are desperate for vaccinations await their turn, but in the near future, we may have to discuss what to do with excess doses.

So why isn’t this story more widely appreciated?

Part of the problem with the vaccines was the timing—the trials concluded immediately after the U.S. election, and their results got overshadowed in the weeks of political turmoil. The first, modest headline announcing the Pfizer-BioNTech results in The New York Times was a single column, “Vaccine Is Over 90% Effective, Pfizer’s Early Data Says,” below a banner headline spanning the page: “BIDEN CALLS FOR UNITED FRONT AS VIRUS RAGES.” That was both understandable—the nation was weary—and a loss for the public.

Just a few days later, Moderna reported a similar 94.5 percent efficacy. If anything, that provided even more cause for celebration, because it confirmed that the stunning numbers coming out of Pfizer weren’t a fluke. But, still amid the political turmoil, the Moderna report got a mere two columns on The New York Times’ front page with an equally modest headline: “Another Vaccine Appears to Work Against the Virus.”

So we didn’t get our initial vaccine jubilation.

But as soon as we began vaccinating people, articles started warning the newly vaccinated about all they could not do. “COVID-19 Vaccine Doesn’t Mean You Can Party Like It’s 1999,” one headline admonished. And the buzzkill has continued right up to the present. “You’re fully vaccinated against the coronavirus—now what? Don’t expect to shed your mask and get back to normal activities right away,” began a recent Associated Press story.

People might well want to party after being vaccinated. Those shots will expand what we can do, first in our private lives and among other vaccinated people, and then, gradually, in our public lives as well. But once again, the authorities and the media seem more worried about potentially reckless behavior among the vaccinated, and about telling them what not to do, than with providing nuanced guidance reflecting trade-offs, uncertainty, and a recognition that vaccination can change behavior. No guideline can cover every situation, but careful, accurate, and updated information can empower everyone.

Take the messaging and public conversation around transmission risks from vaccinated people. It is, of course, important to be alert to such considerations: Many vaccines are “leaky” in that they prevent disease or severe disease, but not infection and transmission. In fact, completely blocking all infection—what’s often called “sterilizing immunity”—is a difficult goal, and something even many highly effective vaccines don’t attain, but that doesn’t stop them from being extremely useful.

As Paul Sax, an infectious-disease doctor at Boston’s Brigham & Women’s Hospital, put it in early December, it would be enormously surprising “if these highly effective vaccines didn’t also make people less likely to transmit.” From multiple studies, we already knew that asymptomatic individuals—those who never developed COVID-19 despite being infected—were much less likely to transmit the virus. The vaccine trials were reporting 95 percent reductions in any form of symptomatic disease. In December, we learned that Moderna had swabbed some portion of trial participants to detect asymptomatic, silent infections, and found an almost two-thirds reduction even in such cases. The good news kept pouring in. Multiple studies found that, even in those few cases where breakthrough disease occurred in vaccinated people, their viral loads were lower—which correlates with lower rates of transmission. Data from vaccinated populations further confirmed what many experts expected all along: Of course these vaccines reduce transmission.

And yet, from the beginning, a good chunk of the public-facing messaging and news articles implied or claimed that vaccines won’t protect you against infecting other people or that we didn’t know if they would, when both were false. I found myself trying to convince people in my own social network that vaccines weren’t useless against transmission, and being bombarded on social media with claims that they were.

What went wrong? The same thing that’s going wrong right now with the reporting on whether vaccines will protect recipients against the new viral variants. Some outlets emphasize the worst or misinterpret the research. Some public-health officials are wary of encouraging the relaxation of any precautions. Some prominent experts on social media—even those with seemingly solid credentials—tend to respond to everything with alarm and sirens. So the message that got heard was that vaccines will not prevent transmission, or that they won’t work against new variants, or that we don’t know if they will. What the public needs to hear, though, is that based on existing data, we expect them to work fairly well—but we’ll learn more about precisely how effective they’ll be over time, and that tweaks may make them even better.

A year into the pandemic, we’re still repeating the same mistakes.

The top-down messaging is not the only problem. The scolding, the strictness, the inability to discuss trade-offs, and the accusations of not caring about people dying not only have an enthusiastic audience, but portions of the public engage in these behaviors themselves. Maybe that’s partly because proclaiming the importance of individual actions makes us feel as if we are in the driver’s seat, despite all the uncertainty.

Psychologists talk about the “locus of control”—the strength of belief in control over your own destiny. They distinguish between people with more of an internal-control orientation—who believe that they are the primary actors—and those with an external one, who believe that society, fate, and other factors beyond their control greatly influence what happens to us. This focus on individual control goes along with something called the “fundamental attribution error”—when bad things happen to other people, we’re more likely to believe that they are personally at fault, but when they happen to us, we are more likely to blame the situation and circumstances beyond our control.

An individualistic locus of control is forged in the U.S. mythos—that we are a nation of strivers and people who pull ourselves up by our bootstraps. An internal-control orientation isn’t necessarily negative; it can facilitate resilience, rather than fatalism, by shifting the focus to what we can do as individuals even as things fall apart around us. This orientation seems to be common among children who not only survive but sometimes thrive in terrible situations—they take charge and have a go at it, and with some luck, pull through. It is probably even more attractive to educated, well-off people who feel that they have succeeded through their own actions.

You can see the attraction of an individualized, internal locus of control in a pandemic, as a pathogen without a cure spreads globally, interrupts our lives, makes us sick, and could prove fatal.

There have been very few things we could do at an individual level to reduce our risk beyond wearing masks, distancing, and disinfecting. The desire to exercise personal control against an invisible, pervasive enemy is likely why we’ve continued to emphasize scrubbing and cleaning surfaces, in what’s appropriately called “hygiene theater,” long after it became clear that fomites were not a key driver of the pandemic. Obsessive cleaning gave us something to do, and we weren’t about to give it up, even if it turned out to be useless. No wonder there was so much focus on telling others to stay home—even though it’s not a choice available to those who cannot work remotely—and so much scolding of those who dared to socialize or enjoy a moment outdoors.

And perhaps it was too much to expect a nation unwilling to release its tight grip on the bottle of bleach to greet the arrival of vaccines—however spectacular—by imagining the day we might start to let go of our masks.

The focus on individual actions has had its upsides, but it has also led to a sizable portion of pandemic victims being erased from public conversation. If our own actions drive everything, then some other individuals must be to blame when things go wrong for them. And throughout this pandemic, the mantra many of us kept repeating—“Wear a mask, stay home; wear a mask, stay home”—hid many of the real victims.

Study after study, in country after country, confirms that this disease has disproportionately hit the poor and minority groups, along with the elderly, who are particularly vulnerable to severe disease. Even among the elderly, though, those who are wealthier and enjoy greater access to health care have fared better.

The poor and minority groups are dying in disproportionately large numbers for the same reasons that they suffer from many other diseases: a lifetime of disadvantages, lack of access to health care, inferior working conditions, unsafe housing, and limited financial resources.

Many lacked the option of staying home precisely because they were working hard to enable others to do what they could not, by packing boxes, delivering groceries, producing food. And even those who could stay home faced other problems born of inequality: Crowded housing is associated with higher rates of COVID-19 infection and worse outcomes, likely because many of the essential workers who live in such housing bring the virus home to elderly relatives.

Individual responsibility certainly had a large role to play in fighting the pandemic, but many victims had little choice in what happened to them. By disproportionately focusing on individual choices, not only did we hide the real problem, but we failed to do more to provide safe working and living conditions for everyone.

For example, there has been a lot of consternation about indoor dining, an activity I certainly wouldn’t recommend. But even takeout and delivery can impose a terrible cost: One study of California found that line cooks are the highest-risk occupation for dying of COVID-19. Unless we provide restaurants with funds so they can stay closed, or provide restaurant workers with high-filtration masks, better ventilation, paid sick leave, frequent rapid testing, and other protections so that they can safely work, getting food to go can simply shift the risk to the most vulnerable. Unsafe workplaces may be low on our agenda, but they do pose a real danger. Bill Hanage, associate professor of epidemiology at Harvard, pointed me to a paper he co-authored: Workplace-safety complaints to OSHA—which oversees occupational-safety regulations—during the pandemic were predictive of increases in deaths 16 days later.

New data highlight the terrible toll of inequality: Life expectancy has decreased dramatically over the past year, with Black people losing the most from this disease, followed by members of the Hispanic community. Minorities are also more likely to die of COVID-19 at a younger age. But when the new CDC director, Rochelle Walensky, noted this terrible statistic, she immediately followed up by urging people to “continue to use proven prevention steps to slow the spread—wear a well-fitting mask, stay 6 ft away from those you do not live with, avoid crowds and poorly ventilated places, and wash hands often.”

Those recommendations aren’t wrong, but they are incomplete. None of these individual acts do enough to protect those to whom such choices aren’t available—and the CDC has yet to issue sufficient guidelines for workplace ventilation or to make higher-filtration masks mandatory, or even available, for essential workers. Nor are these proscriptions paired frequently enough with prescriptions: Socialize outdoors, keep parks open, and let children play with one another outdoors.

Vaccines are the tool that will end the pandemic. The story of their rollout combines some of our strengths and our weaknesses, revealing the limitations of the way we think and evaluate evidence, provide guidelines, and absorb and react to an uncertain and difficult situation.

But also, after a weary year, maybe it’s hard for everyone—including scientists, journalists, and public-health officials—to imagine the end, to have hope. We adjust to new conditions fairly quickly, even terrible new conditions. During this pandemic, we’ve adjusted to things many of us never thought were possible. Billions of people have led dramatically smaller, circumscribed lives, and dealt with closed schools, the inability to see loved ones, the loss of jobs, the absence of communal activities, and the threat and reality of illness and death.

Hope nourishes us during the worst times, but it is also dangerous. It upsets the delicate balance of survival—where we stop hoping and focus on getting by—and opens us up to crushing disappointment if things don’t pan out. After a terrible year, many things are understandably making it harder for us to dare to hope. But, especially in the United States, everything looks better by the day. Tragically, at least 28 million Americans have been confirmed to have been infected, but the real number is certainly much higher. By one estimate, as many as 80 million have already been infected with COVID-19, and many of those people now have some level of immunity. Another 46 million people have already received at least one dose of a vaccine, and we’re vaccinating millions more each day as the supply constraints ease. The vaccines are poised to reduce or nearly eliminate the things we worry most about—severe disease, hospitalization, and death.

Not all our problems are solved. We need to get through the next few months, as we race to vaccinate against more transmissible variants. We need to do more to address equity in the United States—because it is the right thing to do, and because failing to vaccinate the highest-risk people will slow the population impact. We need to make sure that vaccines don’t remain inaccessible to poorer countries. We need to keep up our epidemiological surveillance so that if we do notice something that looks like it may threaten our progress, we can respond swiftly.

And the public behavior of the vaccinated cannot change overnight—even if they are at much lower risk, it’s not reasonable to expect a grocery store to try to verify who’s vaccinated, or to have two classes of people with different rules. For now, it’s courteous and prudent for everyone to obey the same guidelines in many public places. Still, vaccinated people can feel more confident in doing things they may have avoided, just in case—getting a haircut, taking a trip to see a loved one, browsing for nonessential purchases in a store.

But it is time to imagine a better future, not just because it’s drawing nearer but because that’s how we get through what remains and keep our guard up as necessary. It’s also realistic—reflecting the genuine increased safety for the vaccinated.

Public-health agencies should immediately start providing expanded information to vaccinated people so they can make informed decisions about private behavior. This is justified by the encouraging data, and a great way to get the word out on how wonderful these vaccines really are. The delay itself has great human costs, especially for those among the elderly who have been isolated for so long.

Public-health authorities should also be louder and more explicit about the next steps, giving us guidelines for when we can expect easing in rules for public behavior as well. We need the exit strategy spelled out—but with graduated, targeted measures rather than a one-size-fits-all message. We need to let people know that getting a vaccine will almost immediately change their lives for the better, and why, and also when and how increased vaccination will change more than their individual risks and opportunities, and see us out of this pandemic.

We should encourage people to dream about the end of this pandemic by talking about it more, and more concretely: the numbers, hows, and whys. Offering clear guidance on how this will end can help strengthen people’s resolve to endure whatever is necessary for the moment—even if they are still unvaccinated—by building warranted and realistic anticipation of the pandemic’s end.

Hope will get us through this. And one day soon, you’ll be able to hop off the subway on your way to a concert, pick up a newspaper, and find the triumphant headline: “COVID Routed!”

Zeynep Tufekci is a contributing writer at The Atlantic and an associate professor at the University of North Carolina. She studies the interaction between digital technology, artificial intelligence, and society.

Geoengenharia solar não deve ser descartada, segundo cientistas (TecMundo)

03/11/2020 às 19:00 3 min de leitura

Imagem de: Geoengenharia solar não deve ser descartada, segundo cientistas

Reinaldo Zaruvni

Antes encaradas com desconfiança pela comunidade científica, as metodologias de intervenção artificial no meio ambiente com o objetivo de frear os efeitos devastadores do aquecimento global estão sendo consideradas agora como recursos a serem aplicados em última instância (já que iniciativas para reduzir a emissão de gases dependem diretamente da ação coletiva e demandam décadas para que tenham algum tipo de efeito benéfico). É possível que não tenhamos esse tempo, de acordo com alguns pesquisadores da área, os quais têm atraído investimentos e muita atenção.

Fazendo parte de um campo também referenciado como geoengenharia solar, grande parte dos métodos se vale da emissão controlada de partículas na atmosfera, responsáveis por barrar a energia recebida pelo nosso planeta e direcioná-la novamente ao espaço, criando uma espécie de resfriamento semelhante ao gerado por erupções vulcânicas.

Ainda que não atuem sobre a poluição, por exemplo, cientistas consideram que, diante de tempestades cada vez mais agressivas, tornados de fogo, inundações e outros desastres naturais, tais ações seriam interessantes enquanto soluções mais eficazes não são desenvolvidas.

Diretor do Sabin Center for Climate Change Law, na Columbia Law School, e editor de um livro sobre a tecnologia e suas implicações legais, Michael Gerrard exemplificou a situação em entrevista ao The New York Times: “Estamos enfrentando uma ameaça existencial. Por isso, é necessário que analisemos todas as opções”.

“Gosto de comparar a geoengenharia a uma quimioterapia para o planeta: se todo o resto estiver falhando, resta apenas tentar”, ele defendeu.

Desastres naturais ocasionados pelo aquecimento global tornam intervenções urgentes, defendem pesquisadores.

Desastres naturais ocasionados pelo aquecimento global tornam urgente a ação de intervenções, segundo pesquisadores. Fonte:  Unsplash 

Dois pesos e duas medidas

Entre aquelas que se destacam, pode ser citada a ação empreendida por uma organização não governamental chamada SilverLining, que concedeu US$ 3 milhões a diversas universidades e outras instituições para que se dediquem à busca de respostas para questões práticas. Um exemplo é encontrar a altitude ideal para a aplicação de aerossóis e como inserir a quantidade mais indicada, verificando seus efeitos sobre a cadeia de produção de alimentos mundial.

Chris Sacca, cofundador da Lowercarbon Capital, um grupo de investimentos que é um dos financiadores da SilverLining, declarou em tom alarmista: “A descarbonização é necessária, mas vai demorar 20 anos ou mais para que ocorra. Se não explorarmos intervenções climáticas como a reflexão solar neste momento, condenaremos um número incontável de vidas, espécies e ecossistemas ao calor”.

Outra contemplada por somas substanciais foi a National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, que recebeu do congresso norte-americano US$ 4 milhões justamente para o desenvolvimento de tecnologias do tipo, assim como o monitoramento de uso secreto de tais soluções por outros países.

Douglas MacMartin, pesquisador de Engenharia Mecânica e aeroespacial na Universidade Cornell, afirmou que “é certo o poder da humanidade de resfriar as coisas, mas o que não está claro é o que vem a seguir”.

Se, por um lado, planeta pode ser resfriado artificialmente, por outro não se sabe o que virá.

Se, por um lado, o planeta pode ser resfriado artificialmente; por outro, não se sabe o que virá. Fonte:  Unsplash 

Existe uma maneira

Para esclarecer as possíveis consequências de intervenções dessa magnitude, MacMartin desenvolverá modelos de efeitos climáticos específicos oriundos da injeção de aerossóis na atmosfera acima de diferentes partes do globo e altitudes. “Dependendo de onde você colocar [a substância], terá efeitos diferentes nas monções na Ásia e no gelo marinho do Ártico“, ele apontou.

O Centro Nacional de Pesquisa Atmosférica em Boulder, Colorado, financiado também pela SilverLining, acredita ter o sistema ideal para isso — o qual é considerado o mais sofisticado do mundo. Com ele, serão executadas centenas de simulações e, assim, especialistas procurarão o que chamam de ponto ideal, no qual a quantidade de resfriamento artificial que pode reduzir eventos climáticos extremos não cause mudanças mais amplas nos padrões regionais de precipitação ou impactos semelhantes.

“Existe uma maneira, pelo menos em nosso modelo de mundo, de ver se podemos alcançar um sem acionar demais o outro?” questionou Jean-François Lamarque, diretor do laboratório de Clima e Dinâmica Global da instituição. Ainda não há resposta para essa dúvida, mas soluções sustentáveis estão sendo analisadas por pesquisadores australianos, que utilizariam a emissão de água salgada para tornar nuvens mais reflexivas, assim indicando resultados promissores de testes.

Dessa maneira, quem sabe as perdas de corais de recife que testemunhamos tenham data para acabar. Quanto ao resto, bem, só o tempo mostrará.

Science and Policy Collide During the Pandemic (The Scientist)

Science and Policy Collide During the Pandemic
ABOVE: MODIFIED FROM © istock.com, VASELENA
COVID-19 has laid bare some of the pitfalls of the relationship between scientific experts and policymakers—but some researchers say there are ways to make it better.

Diana Kwon

Sep 1, 2020

Science has taken center stage during the COVID-19 pandemic. Early on, as SARS-CoV-2 started spreading around the globe, many researchers pivoted to focus on studying the virus. At the same time, some scientists and science advisors—experts responsible for providing scientific information to policymakers—gained celebrity status as they calmly and cautiously updated the public on the rapidly evolving situation and lent their expertise to help governments make critical decisions, such as those relating to lockdowns and other transmission-slowing measures.

“Academia, in the case of COVID, has done an amazing job of trying to get as much information relevant to COVID gathered and distributed into the policymaking process as possible,” says Chris Tyler, the director of research and policy in University College London’s Department of Science, Technology, Engineering and Public Policy (STEaPP). 

But the pace at which COVID-related science has been conducted and disseminated during the pandemic has also revealed the challenges associated with translating fast-accumulating evidence for an audience not well versed in the process of science. As research findings are speedily posted to preprint servers, preliminary results have made headlines in major news outlets, sometimes without the appropriate dose of scrutiny.

Some politicians, such as Brazil’s President Jair Bolsonaro, have been quick to jump on premature findings, publicly touting the benefits of treatments such as hydroxychloroquine with minimal or no supporting evidence. Others have pointed to the flip-flopping of the current state of knowledge as a sign of scientists’ untrustworthiness or incompetence—as was seen, for example, in the backlash against Anthony Fauci, one of the US government’s top science advisors. 

Some comments from world leaders have been even more concerning. “For me, the most shocking thing I saw,” Tyler says, “was Donald Trump suggesting the injection of disinfectant as a way of treating COVID—that was an eye-popping, mind-boggling moment.” 

Still, Tyler notes that there are many countries in which the relationship between the scientific community and policymakers during the course of the pandemic has been “pretty impressive.” As an example, he points to Germany, where the government has both enlisted and heeded the advice of scientists across a range of disciplines, including epidemiology, virology, economics, public health, and the humanities.

Researchers will likely be assessing the response to the pandemic for years to come. In the meantime, for scientists interested in getting involved in policymaking, there are lessons to be learned, as well some preliminary insights from the pandemic that may help to improve interactions between scientists and policymakers and thereby pave the way to better evidence-based policy. 

Cultural divisions between scientists and policymakers

Even in the absence of a public-health emergency, there are several obstacles to the smooth implementation of scientific advice into policy. One is simply that scientists and policymakers are generally beholden to different incentive systems. “Classically, a scientist wants to understand something for the sake of understanding, because they have a passion toward that topic—so discovery is driven by the value of discovery,” says Kai Ruggeri, a professor of health policy and management at Columbia University. “Whereas the policymaker has a much more utilitarian approach. . . . They have to come up with interventions that produce the best outcomes for the most people.”

Scientists and policymakers are operating on considerably different timescales, too. “Normally, research programs take months and years, whereas policy decisions take weeks and months, sometimes days,” Tyler says. “This discrepancy makes it much more difficult to get scientifically generated knowledge into the policymaking process.” Tyler adds that the two groups deal with uncertainty in very different ways: academics are comfortable with it, as measuring uncertainty is part of the scientific process, whereas policymakers tend to view it as something that can cloud what a “right” answer might be. 

This cultural mismatch has been particularly pronounced during the COVID-19 pandemic. Even as scientists work at breakneck speeds, many crucial questions about COVID-19—such as how long immunity to the virus lasts, and how much of a role children play in the spread of infection—remain unresolved, and policy decisions have had to be addressed with limited evidence, with advice changing as new research emerges. 

“We have seen the messy side of science, [that] not all studies are equally well-done and that they build over time to contribute to the weight of knowledge,” says Karen Akerlof, a professor of environmental science and policy at George Mason University. “The short timeframes needed for COVID-19 decisions have run straight into the much longer timeframes needed for robust scientific conclusions.” 

Academia has done an amazing job of trying to get as much information  relevant to COVID gathered and distributed into the policymaking process as possible. —Chris Tyler, University College London

Widespread mask use, for example, was initially discouraged by many politicians and public health officials due to concerns about a shortage of supplies for healthcare workers and limited data on whether mask use by the general public would help reduce the spread of the virus. At the time, there were few mask-wearing laws outside of East Asia, where such practices were commonplace long before the COVID-19 pandemic began.  

Gradually, however, as studies began to provide evidence to support the use of face coverings as a means of stemming transmission, scientists and public health officials started to recommend their use. This shift led local, state, and federal officials around the world to implement mandatory mask-wearing rules in certain public spaces. Some politicians, however, used this about-face in advice as a reason to criticize health experts.  

“We’re dealing with evidence that is changing very rapidly,” says Meghan Azad, a professor of pediatrics at the University of Manitoba. “I think there’s a risk of people perceiving that rapid evolution as science [being] a bad process, which is worrisome.” On the other hand, the spotlight the pandemic has put on scientists provides opportunities to educate the general public and policymakers about the scientific process, Azad adds. It’s important to help them understand that “it’s good that things are changing, because it means we’re paying attention to the new evidence as it comes out.”

Bringing science and policy closer together

Despite these challenges, science and policy experts say that there are both short- and long-term ways to improve the relationship between the two communities and to help policymakers arrive at decisions that are more evidence-based.

Better tools, for one, could help close the gap. Earlier this year, Ruggeri brought together a group of people from a range of disciplines, including medicine, engineering, economics, and policy, to develop the Theoretical, Empirical, Applicable, Replicable, Impact (THEARI) rating system, a five-tiered framework for evaluating the robustness of scientific evidence in the context of policy decisions. The ratings range from “theoretical” (the lowest level, where a scientifically viable idea has been proposed but not tested) to “impact” (the highest level, in which a concept has been successfully tested, replicated, applied, and validated in the real world).

The team developed THEARI partly to establish a “common language” across scientific disciplines, which Ruggeri says would be particularly useful to policymakers evaluating evidence from a field they may know little about. Ruggeri hopes to see the THEARI framework—or something like it—adopted by policymakers and policy advisors, and even by journals and preprint servers. “I don’t necessarily think [THEARI] will be used right away,” he says. “It’d be great if it was, but we . . . [developed] it as kind of a starting point.” 

Other approaches to improve the communication between scientists and policymakers may require more resources and time. According to Akerlof, one method could include providing better incentives for both parties to engage with each other—by offering increased funding for academics who take part in this kind of activity, for instance—and boosting opportunities for such interactions to happen. 

Akerlof points to the American Association for the Advancement of Science’s Science & Technology Policy Fellowships, which place scientists and engineers in various branches of the US government for a year, as an example of a way in which important ties between the two communities could be forged. “Many of those scientists either stay in government or continue to work in science policy in other organizations,” Akerlof says. “By understanding the language and culture of both the scientific and policy communities, they are able to bridge between them.”  

In Canada, such a program was established in 2018, when the Canadian Science Policy Center and Mona Nemer, Canada’s Chief Science Advisor, held the country’s first “Science Meets Parliament” event. The 28 scientists in attendance, including Azad, spent two days learning about effective communication and the policymaking process, and interacting with senators and members of parliament. “It was eye opening for me because I didn’t know how parliamentarians really live and work,” Azad says. “We hope it’ll grow and involve more scientists and continue on an annual basis . . . and also happen at the provincial level.”

The short timeframes needed for COVID-19 decisions have run straight into the much longer timeframes needed for robust scientific conclusions. —Karen Akerlof, George Mason University

There may also be insights from scientist-policymaker exchanges in other domains that experts can apply to the current pandemic. Maria Carmen Lemos, a social scientist focused on climate policy at the University of Michigan, says that one way to make those interactions more productive is by closing something she calls the “usability gap.”

“The usability gap highlights the fact that one of the reasons that research fails to connect is because [scientists] only pay attention to the [science],” Lemos explains. “We are putting everything out there in papers, in policy briefs, in reports, but rarely do we actually systematically and intentionally try to understand who is on the other side” receiving this information, and what they will do with it.

The way to deal with this usability gap, according to Lemos, is for more scientists to consult the people who actually make, influence, and implement policy changes early on in the scientific process. Lemos and her team, for example, have engaged in this way with city officials, farmers, forest managers, tribal leaders, and others whose decision making would directly benefit from their work. “We help with organization and funding, and we also work with them very closely to produce climate information that is tailored for them, for the problems that they are trying to solve,” she adds. 

Azad applied this kind of approach in a study that involves assessing the effects of the pandemic on a cohort of children that her team has been following from infancy, starting in 2010. When she and her colleagues were putting together the proposal for the COVID-19 project this year, they reached out to public health decision makers across the Canadian provinces to find out what information would be most useful. “We have made sure to embed those decision makers in the project from the very beginning to ensure we’re asking the right questions, getting the most useful information, and getting it back to them in a very quick turnaround manner,” Azad says. 

There will also likely be lessons to take away from the pandemic in the years to come, notes Noam Obermeister, a PhD student studying science policy at the University of Cambridge. These include insights from scientific advisors about how providing guidance to policymakers during COVID-19 compared to pre-pandemic times, and how scientists’ prominent role during the pandemic has affected how they are viewed by the public; efforts to collect this sort of information are already underway. 

“I don’t think scientists anticipated that much power and visibility, or that [they] would be in [public] saying science is complicated and uncertain,” Obermeister says. “I think what that does to the authority of science in the public eye is still to be determined.”

Talking Science to PolicymakersFor academics who have never engaged with policymakers, the thought of making contact may be daunting. Researchers with experience of these interactions share their tips for success.
1. Do your homework. Policymakers usually have many different people vying for their time and attention. When you get a meeting, make sure you make the most of it. “Find out which issues related to your research are a priority for the policymaker and which decisions are on the horizon,” says Karen Akerlof, a professor of environmental science and policy at George Mason University.
2. Get to the point, but don’t oversimplify. “I find policymakers tend to know a lot about the topics they work on, and when they don’t, they know what to ask about,” says Kai Ruggeri, a professor of health policy and management at Columbia University. “Finding a good balance in the communication goes a long way.”
3. Keep in mind that policymakers’ expertise differs from that of scientists. “Park your ego at the door and treat policymakers and their staff with respect,” Akerlof says. “Recognize that the skills, knowledge, and culture that translate to success in policy may seem very different than those in academia.” 
4. Be persistent. “Don’t be discouraged if you don’t get a response immediately, or if promising communications don’t pan out,” says Meghan Azad, a professor of pediatrics at the University of Manitoba. “Policymakers are busy and their attention shifts rapidly. Meetings get cancelled. It’s not personal. Keep trying.”
5. Remember that not all policymakers are politicians, and vice versa. Politicians are usually elected and are affiliated with a political party, and they may not always be directly involved in creating new policies. This is not the case for the vast majority of policymakers—most are career civil servants whose decisions impact the daily living of constituents, Ruggeri explains. 

NIH Cancels Funding for Bat Coronavirus Research Project (The Scientist)

The abrupt termination comes after the research drew President Trump’s attention for its ties to the Wuhan Institute of Virology.

NIH Cancels Funding for Bat Coronavirus Research Project
The canceled grant included money for surveillance of coronaviruses in Yunnan, China.
© ISTOCK.COM, REDTEA
Shawna Williams
Apr 28, 2020

A grant to a New York nonprofit aimed at detecting and preventing future outbreaks of coronaviruses from bats has been canceled by the National Institutes of Health, Politico reports, apparently at the direction of President Donald Trump because the research involved the Wuhan Institute of Virology in China. The virology institute has become a focal point for the idea that SARS-CoV-2 escaped from the laboratory and caused the current COVID-19 pandemic, a scenario experts say is not supported by evidence. Instead, virologists The Scientist has spoken to say the virus most likely jumped from infected animals to humans.

The grant, first awarded in fiscal year 2014 and most recently renewed last year, went to EcoHealth Alliance, which describes itself as “a global environmental health nonprofit organization dedicated to protecting wildlife and public health from the emergence of disease.” The aims of the funded project included characterizing coronaviruses present in bat populations in southern China and conducting surveillance to detect spillover events of such viruses to people. The project has resulted in 20 publications, most recently a March report on zoonotic risk factors in rural southern China.

EcoHealth Alliance’s partners on the project include researchers at the Wuhan Institute of Virology, a BSL-4 facility that has for months been a focus of conspiracy theories that SARS-CoV-2 escaped or was released from a lab. On April 14, the The Washington Post published a column highlighting State Department cables about concerns regarding safety at the institute. (Experts tell NPR that, even in light of the cables, accidental escape of the virus from a lab remains a far less likely scenario than a jump from animals.) 

Then, in an April 17 White House coronavirus briefing, a reporter, whom Politico identifies as being from Newsmax, falsely stated in a question that “US intelligence is saying this week that the coronavirus likely came from a level 4 lab in Wuhan,” and that the NIH had awarded a $3.7 million grant to the Wuhan lab. “Why would the US give a grant like that to China?” she asked. “We will end that grant very quickly,” Trump said in his answer.

An NIH official then wrote to EcoHealth Alliance to inquire about money sent to “China-based participants in this work,” Politico reports, and the organization’s head, Peter Daszak, responded that a complete response would take time, but that “I can categorically state that no fund from [the grant] have been sent to the Wuhan Institute of Virology, nor has any contract been signed.” Days later, NIH notified EcoHealth Alliance that future funding for the project was canceled, and that it must immediately “stop spending the $369,819 remaining from its 2020 grant”—an unusual move generally reserved for cases of scientific misconduct or financial improprieties, according to Politico.

In a statement about the cancellation, EcoHealth Alliance says the terminated research “aimed to analyze the risk of coronavirus emergence and help in designing vaccines and drugs to protect us from COVID-19 and other coronavirus threats,” and that it addresses “all four strategic research priorities of the NIH/NIAID Strategic Plan for COVID-19 Research, released just this week.” The organization will, it says, “continue our fight against this and other emerging diseases.”

See “Theory that Coronavirus Escaped from a Lab Lacks Evidence

What It’s Like Being a Sane Person on the House Science Committee (Gizmodo)

12/23/16 12:00pm

Artwork by Jim Cooke

Congressional Committee tweets don’t usually get much attention. But when the House Committee on Science, Space, and Technology sent out a link to a Breitbart story claiming a “plunge” in global temperatures, people took notice. The takedowns flew in, from Slate and Bernie Sanders, from plenty of scientists, and most notably from the Weather Channel, which deemed Breitbart’s use of their meteorologist’s face worthy of a point-by-point debunking video.

There is nothing particularly noteworthy about Breitbart screwing up climate science, but the House Science Committee is among the most important scientific oversight bodies in the country. Since Texas Republican Lamar Smith took over its leadership in 2012, the Committee has spiraled down an increasingly anti-science rabbit hole: absurd hearings aimed at debunking consensus on global warming, outright witch hunts using the Committee’s subpoena power to intimidate scientists, and a Republican membership that includes some of the most anti-science lawmakers in the land.

The GOP’s shenanigans get the headlines, but what about the other side of the aisle? What is it like to be a member of Congress and sit on a science committee that doesn’t seem to understand science? What is it like to be an adult in a room full of toddlers? I asked some of the adults.

“I think it’s completely embarrassing,” said Mark Veasey, who represents Texas’s 33rd district, including parts of Dallas and Fort Worth. “You’re talking about something that 99.9 percent—if not 100 percent—of people in the legitimate science community says is a threat….To quote Breitbart over some of the most brilliant people in the world—and those are American scientists—and how they see climate change, I just think it’s a total embarrassment.”

Paul Tonko, who represents a chunk of upstate New York that includes Albany, has also called it embarrassing. “It is frustrating when you have the majority party of a committee pushing junk science and disproven myths to serve a political agenda,” he said. “It’s not just beneath the dignity of the Science Committee or Congress as a whole, it’s inherently dangerous. Science and research seek the truth—they don’t always fit so neatly with agendas.”

“I think it’s completely embarrassing.”

Suzanne Bonamici, of Oregon’s 1st District, also called it frustrating “to say the least” that the Committee “is spending time questioning climate researchers and ignoring the broad scientific consensus.” California Rep. Eric Swalwellcalled it the “Science” Committee in an email, and made sure I noted the air quotes. He said that in Obama’s first term, the Committee helped push forward on climate change and a green economy. “For the last four years, however, being on the Committee has meant defending the progress we’ve made.”

Frustration, embarrassment, a sense of Sisyphean hopelessness—this sounds like a grim gig. And Veasey also said that he doesn’t have much hope for a change in the Science Committee’s direction, because that change would have to come from the chairman. Smith has received hundreds of thousands of dollars in campaign support from the oil and gas industry over the years, and somehow finds himself in even greater climate change denial than ExxonMobil.

And of course, it isn’t just the leadership. The League of Conservation Voters maintains a scorecard of every legislator in Congress: for 2015, the most recent year available, the average of all the Democratic members on the science committee is 92.75 percent (with 100 being a perfect environment-friendly score). On the GOP side of the aisle, the average is just over three percent.

(I reached out to a smattering of GOP members of the Committee to get their take on its recent direction. None of them responded.)

Bill Foster, who represents a district including some suburbs of Chicago, is the only science PhD in all of Congress (“I very often feel lonely,” he said, before encouraging other scientists to run for office). “Since I made the transition from science into politics not so long ago, I’ve become very cognizant of the difference between scientific facts, and political facts,” he said. “Political facts can be established by repeating over and over something that is demonstrably false, then if it comes to be accepted by enough people it becomes a political fact.” Witness the 52 percent of Republicans who currently believe Trump won the popular vote, and you get the idea.

I’m not sure “climate change isn’t happening” has reached that “political fact” level, though Smith and his ilk have done their damndest. Recent polls suggest most Americans do understand the issue, and more and more they believe the government should act aggressively to tackle it.

“Political facts can be established by repeating over and over something that is demonstrably false, then if it comes to be accepted by enough people it becomes a political fact.”

That those in charge of our government disagree so publicly and strongly now has scientists terrified. “This has a high profile,” Foster said, “because if there is any committee in Congress that should operate on the basis of scientific truth, it ought to be the Science, Space, and Technology committee—so when it goes off the rails, then people notice.”

The odds of the train jumping back on the rails over the next four years appear slim. Policies that came from the Obama White House, like the Clean Power Plan, are obviously on thin ice with a Trump administration, and without any sort of check on Smith and company it is hard to say just how pro-fossil fuel, anti-climate the committee could really get.

In the face of all that, what is a sane member of Congress to do? Elizabeth Esty, who represents Connecticut’s 5th district, was among several Committee members to note that in spite of the disagreements on climate, she has managed to work with GOP leadership on other scientific issues. Rep. Swalwell said he will try and focus on bits of common ground, like the jobs that come with an expanding green economy. Rep. Veasey said his best hope is that some strong conservative voices from outside of Congress might start to make themselves heard by the Party’s upper echelons on climate and related issues.

An ugly and dire scenario, then, but the Democrats all seem to carry at least a glimmer of hope. “It’s certainly frustrating and concerning but I’m an optimist,” Esty said. “I wouldn’t run for this job if I weren’t.”

Dave Levitan is a science journalist, and author of the book Not A Scientist: How politicians mistake, misrepresent, and utterly mangle science. Find him on Twitter and at his website.

Coal Companies’ Secret Funding of Climate Science Denial Exposed (Eco Watch)

Elliott Negin, Union of Concerned Scientists | April 13, 2016 10:49 am

Peabody Energy—the nation’s largest investor-owned coal company—declared bankruptcy Wednesday. Among the many consequences: the company’s court-ordered disclosures are likely to yield hard evidence of Peabody’s direct links to climate science denial.

After all, that’s what we learned from the bankruptcy filings of two other major U.S. coalcompanies, Arch Coal and Alpha Natural Resources. The companies’ lists of creditors accompanying their chapter 11 bankruptcy filings both cited known climate science deniers. So far, the bankruptcy cases have not revealed the details of these financial relationships. But there is now no doubt the coal companies contracted with these groups and individuals to either make a donation or pay for services.

Recent bankruptcy filings have revealed that Chris Horner, who regularly derides climate science on Fox News Channel, has financial ties to the coal industry.Recent bankruptcy filings have revealed that Chris Horner, who regularly derides climate science on Fox News Channel, has financial ties to the coal industry.

This new evidence is important at a time when coal and oil and gas companies are under increased scrutiny about their ongoing climate science disinformation campaigns. ExxonMobil, for example, currently faces state and possibly federal investigations into whether the discrepancies between what the company knew about climate science and what it told their shareholders and the public amounted to fraud.

Of course, there’s no shortage of historical evidence of the coal industry’s track record of deceiving the public about global warming. In 1991, for example, coal trade associations formed a short-lived front group called the Information Council on the Environment that ran a national public relations campaign downplaying the known risks of climate change. All through the 1990s, coal trade groups also were members of the Global Climate Coalition, an alliance of companies and business groups that disputed the findings of the U.N. Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) and, later on, helped scuttle the Kyoto Protocol climate treaty. And, more recently, the American Coalition for Clean Coal Electricity paid a lobbying firm to send forged letters to members of Congress from actual nonprofit groups, including the NAACP and the American Association of University Women, espousing fabricated opposition to a 2009 climate change bill.

But such coal company connections have been harder to pin down in the current era of so-called dark money. That’s what makes the latest disclosures so noteworthy: They indicate that coal industry disinformation campaigns have continued even as the scientific evidence that burning fossil fuels is driving climate change has only become stronger.

Revealing Creditor Lists

The creditor list for Alpha Natural Resources—which filed for bankruptcy last August—indicates that the company has been especially active in supporting the denier network. As first reported by The Intercept, Alpha—the fourth largest U.S. coal company—has financial ties with a half dozen denier organizations, some which have direct links to billionaire brothers Charles and David Koch, owners of the coal, oil and gas conglomerate Koch Industries. The Koch-affiliated groups include Americans for Prosperity, the Institute for Energy Research and Freedom Partners Chamber of Commerce, a de facto Koch bank that disburses donations from anonymous, wealthy conservatives to groups that advocate rolling back public health, environmental and workplace protections.

Other Alpha creditors include the U.S. Chamber of Commerce, which questions the legitimacy of climate models; the Heartland Institute, which is probably best known for its billboard likening climate scientists to the serial killer Ted Kaczynski; and the American Legislative Exchange Council (ALEC), which convenes conferences for its state legislator members featuring speakers who distort climate science and disparage renewable energy. One of the speakers at a summer 2014 ALEC conference, for example, was Heartland Institute President Joe Bast, whose slide presentation falsely claimed: “There is no scientific consensus on the human role in climate change” and “The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change … is not a credible source of science or economics.”

The Alpha creditor list also includes at least two individuals with links to denier groups. Particularly noteworthy is Chris Horner, an attorney who is closely associated with a number of nonprofit denier groups, including ALEC, the Competitive Enterprise Institute (CEI), the Heartland Institute, the Energy & Environmental Legal Institute (E&E Legal), formerly the American Tradition Institute, and the Free Market Environmental Law Clinic, another Alpha creditor.

Arch Coal, the second largest U.S. coal company, listed ALEC and E&E Legal in its list of creditors when it filed for chapter 11 protection in January. Just last month, the Wall Street Journal reported that the company donated $10,000 to E&E Legal in 2014. E&E Legal’s executive director, Craig Richardson, told the Journal the contribution was for “general support.”

Chris Horner’s Coal Ties Disclosed

The exposure of Horner’s financial ties to coal companies is significant because he is a regular guest on Fox News Channel, which identifies him by his affiliation with CEI or E&E Legal but not by his connection to the coal industry.

Despite his lack of scientific expertise, Horner routinely critiques scientific findings, has called for spurious investigations of climate scientists affiliated with the IPCC and the National Aeronautics and Space Administration and has harassed scientists by filing intrusive open records requests with the universities where they work. As legal counsel for the Energy & Environmental Legal Institute and the Free Market Environmental Law Clinic—which work in tandem—Horner has targeted a number of leading climate scientists, including James Hansenand Katharine Hayhoe. Perhaps his most notorious lawsuit was against the University of Virginia to obtain emails, draft research papers, handwritten notes and other documents related to the work of Michael Mann, lead author of the famous “hockey stick” study demonstrating the link between increased fossil fuel use and rising global temperatures. The Virginia Supreme Court ultimately ruled in favor of the university and Mann, affirming the school’s right to protect the privacy of its researchers from overly broad open records requests.

According to the Wall Street Journal, Alpha paid Horner $18,600 before it declared bankruptcy. Meanwhile, the Free Market Environmental Law Clinic—an Alpha creditor—paid him $110,000 in 2014, $115,865 in 2013 and $60,449 in 2012, according to the clinic’s tax filings.

Besides Alpha and Arch Coal, Horner has ties to other coal companies. Last summer, he was a featured speaker at a private $7,500-a-person golf and fly-fishing retreat sponsored by Alpha, Arch Coal and four other coal companies: Alliance Resource Partners, Consol Energy, Drummond and United Coal. After the event—the 2015 annual Coal & Investment Leadership Forum—attendees received an email from the coal company CEOs praising Horner, according to the Center for Media and Democracy, a nonpartisan political watchdog group that first reported the connection between Arch Coal and E&E Legal. “As the ‘war on coal’ continues,” the email stated, “I trust that the commitment we have made to support Chris Horner’s work will eventually create a greater awareness of the illegal tactics being employed to pass laws that are intended to destroy our industry.”

Given the recent spate of bankruptcies, the companies’ commitment to Horner likely will create a greater awareness of something quite different: that the coal industry—along with the likes of ExxonMobil and Koch Industries—is still funding denier groups to spread disinformation about climate science and delay government action. It is time we held these companies accountable.

Mais respeito pela Funceme (O Povo)

ARTIGO 29/02/2016

Fátima Sudário

Na semana que passou, a Funceme atualizou a previsão para a estação de chuva, que se estende até maio na região em que o Ceará está inserido. Reafirmou, em dia de chuva intensa na Capital, probabilidade de chuva em torno de 70% abaixo da média.

Isso é seca braba. É caso de se cobrar atitude do poder público e se compromissar com mobilização social para um cenário desfavorável.
Pela primeira vez, o volume do Castanhão, principal fornecedor da água na Região Metropolitana de Fortaleza, caiu a menos de 10%.

Mas a reação, de um modo geral, se restringe ao ceticismo em relação às previsões da Funceme. Não faltam comentários pejorativos, piadas e ironias, uma espécie de cultura instaurada sempre que se trata da instituição que, além da meteorologia, se dedica a meio ambiente e recursos hídricos.

Penso que há de se atribuir essa postura a imprecisões de previsão, como de fato acontecem, ao uso político de informações como aconteceu no passado ou mesmo à ignorância. Mas me incomoda. A meteorologia lida com parâmetros globais complexos, como temperatura do ar e dos oceanos, velocidade e direção dos ventos, umidade, pressão atmosférica, fenômenos como El Niño… Já avançou consideravelmente na confiabilidade das previsões feitas por meteorologistas, com o uso de dados de satélites, balões atmosféricos e um tanto mais de aparato tecnológico que alimentam modelos matemáticos complicados para desenhar probabilidades, mas não exatidões.

Erra-se, aqui como no resto mundo. Mas geram-se informações de profundo impacto social, econômico, científico e cultural, essenciais a tomadas de decisões, de natureza pública e privada. Algo que nenhum gestor ou comunidade pode dispensar, especialmente em uma região como a nossa, vulnerável às variações climáticas e dependente da chuva. Carecemos de uma troca de mentalidade em relação ao trabalho da Funceme. Falo de respeito mesmo pelo que nos é caro e fundamentalmente necessário.

A propósito, é difícil, mas torço para que a natureza contrarie o prognóstico e caia chuva capaz de garantir um mínimo de segurança hídrica, produtividade e dignidade a um Ceará que muito depende das informações sobre o clima, geradas pela Funceme.

Fátima Sudário

Jornalista do O POVO

Uma década de avanços em biotecnologia (Folha de S.Paulo)

11 de fevereiro de 2016

Lei de Biossegurança completa 10 anos dialogando com as mais recentes descobertas da ciência

Walter Colli – Instituto de Química, Universidade de São Paulo

Ao longo de 2015, uma silenciosa revolução biotecnológica aconteceu no Brasil. Neste ano a Comissão Técnica Nacional de Biossegurança (CTNBio) analisou e aprovou um número recorde de tecnologias aplicáveis à agricultura, medicina e produção de energia. O trabalho criterioso dos membros da CTNBio avaliou como seguros para a saúde humana e animal e para o ambiente 19 novos transgênicos, dentre os quais 13 plantas, três vacinas e três microrganismos ou derivados.

A CTNBio, priorizando o rigor nas análises de biossegurança e atenta às necessidades de produzir alimentos de maneira mais sustentável aprovou, no ano passado, variedades de soja, milho e algodão tolerantes a herbicidas com diferentes métodos de ação. Isso permitirá que as sementes desenvolvam todo seu potencial e que os produtores brasileiros tenham mais uma opção para a rotação de tecnologias no manejo de plantas daninhas. Sem essa ferramenta tecnológica, os agricultores ficariam reféns das limitações impostas pelas plantas invasoras. As tecnologias de resistência a insetos proporcionam benefícios semelhantes.

Na área da saúde, a revolução diz respeito aos métodos de combate a doenças que são endêmicas das regiões tropicais. Mais uma vez, mostrando-se parceira da sociedade, a CTNBio avaliou a biossegurança de duas vacinas recombinantes contra a Dengue em regime de urgência e deu parecer favorável a elas. Soma-se a estes esforços a aprovação do Aedes aegypti transgênico. O mosquito geneticamente modificado aprovado em 2014 tem se mostrado um aliado no combate ao inseto que, além de ser vetor da dengue, também está associado a casos de transmissão dos vírus Zika, Chikungunya e da febre amarela.

Nos últimos 10 anos, até o momento, o advento da nova CTNBio pela Lei 11.105 de 2005 – a Lei de Biossegurança – proporcionou a aprovação comercial de 82 Organismos Geneticamente Modificados (OGM): 52 eventos em plantas; 20 vacinas veterinárias; 7 microrganismos; 1 mosquito Aedes aegypti; e 2 vacinas para uso humano contra a Dengue. Essas liberações comerciais são a maior prova de que o Brasil lança mão da inovação para encontrar soluções para os desafios da contemporaneidade.

Entretanto, é necessário enfatizar que assuntos não relacionados com Ciência também se colocaram, como em anos anteriores, no caminho do desenvolvimento da biotecnologia em 2015. Manifestantes anti-ciência invadiram laboratórios e destruíram sete anos de pesquisas com plantas transgênicas de eucalipto e grupos anti-OGM chegaram a interromper reuniões da CTNBio, pondo abaixo portas com ações truculentas. Diversas inverdades foram publicadas na tentativa de colocar em dúvida a segurança e as contribuições que a transgenia vem dando para a sociedade. A ação desses grupos preocupa, pois, se sua ideologia for vitoriosa, tanto o progresso científico quanto o PIB brasileiros ficarão irreversivelmente prejudicados.

Hoje, a nossa Lei de Biossegurança é tida internacionalmente como um modelo de equilíbrio entre o rigor nas análises técnicas e a previsibilidade institucional necessária para haver o investimento. O reconhecimento global, o diálogo com a sociedade e a legitimidade dos critérios técnicos mostram que esses 10 anos são apenas o início de uma longa história de desenvolvimento e inovação no Brasil.

The controversy about the relationship between GM mosquitoes and the Zika virus outbreak in Brazil

 

Pandora’s box: how GM mosquitos could have caused Brazil’s microcephaly disaster (The Ecologist)

Oliver Tickell

1st February 2016

Aedes Aegypti mosquito feeding on human blood. Photo: James Gathany via jentavery on Flickr (CC BY).

Aedes Aegypti mosquito feeding on human blood. This is the species that transmits Zika, and that was genetically engineered by Oxitec using the piggyBac transposon. Photo: James Gathany via jentavery on Flickr (CC BY).

In Brazil’s microcephaly epidemic, one vital question remains unanswered: how did the Zika virus suddenly learn how to disrupt the development of human embryos? The answer may lie in a sequence of ‘jumping DNA’ used to engineer the virus’s mosquito vector – and released into the wild four years ago in the precise area of Brazil where the microcephaly crisis is most acute.

These ‘promiscuous’ transposons have found special favour with genetic engineers, whose goal is to create ‘universal’ systems for transferring genes into any and every species on earth. Almost none of the geneticists has considered the hazards involved.

Since August 2015, a large number of babies in Northeast Brazil have been born with very small heads, a condition known as microcephaly, and with other serious malformations. 4,180 suspected cases have been reported.

Epidemiologists have found a convincing correlation between the incidence of the natal deformities and maternal infections with the Zika virus, first discovered in Uganda’s Zika Valley in 1947, which normally produces non-serious illness.

The correlation has been evidenced through the geographical distrubution of Zika infections and the wave of deformities. Zika virus has also been detected in the amniotic fluids and other tissues of the affected babies and their mothers.

This latter finding was recently reported by AS Oliveira Melo et al in a scientific paperpublished in the journal Ultrasound in Obstetrics & Gynecology, which noted evidence of intra-uterine infection. They also warn:

“As with other intrauterine infections, it is possible that the reported cases of microcephaly represent only the more severely affected children and that newborns with less severe disease, affecting not only the brain but also other organs, have not yet been diagnosed.”

The Brazilian Health Minister, Marcelo Castro, says he has “100% certainty” that there is a link between Zika and microcephaly. His view is supported by the medical community worldwide, including by the US Center for Disease Control.

Oliveira Melo et al draw attention to a mystery that lies at the heart of the affair: “It is difficult to explain why there have been no fetal cases of Zika virus infection reported until now but this may be due to the underreporting of cases, possible early acquisition of immunity in endemic areas or due to the rarity of the disease until now.

“As genomic changes in the virus have been reported, the possibility of a new, more virulent, strain needs to be considered. Until more cases are diagnosed and histopathological proof is obtained, the possibility of other etiologies cannot be ruled out.”

And this is the key question: how – if indeed Zika really is the problem, as appears likely – did this relatively innocuous virus acquire the ability to produce these terrible malformations in unborn human babies?

Oxitec’s GM mosquitoes

An excellent article by Claire Bernish published last week on AntiMedia draws attention to an interesting aspect of the matter which has escaped mainstream media attention: the correlation between the incidence of Zika and the area of release of genetically modified Aedes aegypti mosquitos engineered for male insterility (see maps, above right).

The purpose of the release was to see if it controlled population of the mosquitos, which are the vector of Dengue fever, a potentially lethal disease. The same species also transmits the Zika virus.

The releases took in 2011 and 2012 in the Itaberaba suburb of the city of Juazeiro, Bahia, Northeast Brazil, about 500 km west of ther coastal city of Recife. The experiment was written up in July 2015 in the journal PLOS Neglected Tropical Diseases in a paper titled ‘Suppression of a Field Population of Aedes aegypti in Brazil by Sustained Release of Transgenic Male Mosquitoes’ by Danilo O. Carvalho et al.

An initial ‘rangefinder of 30,000 GM mosquitos per week took place between 19th May and 29th June 2011, followed by a much larger release of 540,000 per week in early 2012, ending on 11th February.

At the end of it the scientists claimed “effective control of a wild population of Ae. aegypti by sustained releases of OX513A male Ae. aegypti. We diminished Ae. aegypti population by 95% (95% CI: 92.2%-97.5%) based on adult trap data and 78% (95% CI: 70.5%-84.8%) based on ovitrap indices compared to the adjacent no-release control area.”

So what’s to worry about?

    The idea of the Oxitec mosquitoes is simple enough: the males produce non-viable offspring which all die. So the GM mosqitoes are ‘self-extinguishing’ and the altered genes cannot survive in the wild population. All very clever, and nothing to worry about!

    But in fact, it’s not so simple. In 2010 geneticist Ricarda Steinbrecher wrote to the biosafety regulator in Malaysia – also considering a release of the Oxitec mosquitoes – with a number of safety concerns, pointing out the 2007 finding by Phuc et al that 3-4% of the first generation mosquitos actually survive.

    The genetic engineerig method employed by Oxitec allows the popular antibiotic tetracycline to be used to repress the lethality during breeding. But as a side-effect, the lethality is also reduced by the presence of tetracycline in the environment; and as Bernish points out, Brazil is among the world’s biggest users of anti-microbials including tetracycline in its commercial farming sector:

    “As a study by the American Society of Agronomy, et. al., explained, ‘It is estimated that approximately 75% of antibiotics are not absorbed by animals and are excreted in waste.’ One of the antibiotics (or antimicrobials) specifically named in that report for its environmental persistence is tetracycline.

    In fact, as a confidential internal Oxitec document divulged in 2012, that survival rate could be as high as 15% – even with low levels of tetracycline present. ‘Even small amounts of tetracycline can repress’ the engineered lethality. Indeed, that 15% survival rate was described by Oxitec.”

    She then quotes the leaked Oxitec paper: “After a lot of testing and comparing experimental design, it was found that [researchers] had used a cat food to feed the [OX513A] larvae and this cat food contained chicken. It is known that tetracycline is routinely used to prevent infections in chickens, especially in the cheap, mass produced, chicken used for animal food. The chicken is heat-treated before being used, but this does not remove all the tetracycline. This meant that a small amount of tetracycline was being added from the food to the larvae and repressing the [designed] lethal system.”

    So in other words, there is every possibility for Oxitec’s modified genes to persist in wild populations of Aedes aegypti mosquitos, especially in the environmental presence of tetracycline which is widely present in sewage, septic tanks, contaminated water sources and farm runoff.

    ‘Promiscuous’ jumping genes

    On the face of it, there is no obvious way in which the spread of Oxitec’s GM mosquitos into the wild could have anything to do with Brazil’s wave of micrcophaly. Is there?

    Actually, yes. The problem may arise from the use of the ‘transposon’ (‘jumping’ sequence of DNA used in the genetic engineering process to introduce the new genes into the target organism). There are several such DNA sequences in use, and one of the most popular is known as known as piggyBac.

    As a 2001 review article by Dr Mae Wan Ho shows, piggyBac is notoriously active, inserting itself into genes way beyond its intended target: “These ‘promiscuous’ transposons have found special favour with genetic engineers, whose goal is to create ‘universal’ systems for transferring genes into any and every species on earth. Almost none of the geneticists has considered the hazards involved …

    “It would seem obvious that integrated transposon vectors may easily jump out again, to another site in the same genome, or to the genome of unrelated species. There are already signs of that in the transposon, piggyBac, used in the GM bollworms to be released by the USDA this summer.

    The piggyBac transposon was discovered in cell cultures of the moth Trichopulsia, the cabbage looper, where it caused high rates of mutations in the baculovirus infecting the cells by jumping into its genes … This transposon was later found to be active in a wide range of species, including the fruitfly Drosophila, the mosquito transmitting yellow fever, Aedes aegypti, the medfly, Ceratitis capitata, and the original host, the cabbage looper.

    “The piggyBac vector gave high frequencies of transpositions, 37 times higher than mariner and nearly four times higher than Hirmar.”

    In a later 2014 report Dr Mae Wan Ho returned to the theme with additional detail and fresh scientific evidence (please refer to her original article for references): “The piggyBac transposon was discovered in cell cultures of the moth Trichopulsia, the cabbage looper, where it caused high rates of mutations in the baculovirus infecting the cells by jumping into its genes …

    “There is also evidence that the disabled piggyBac vector carrying the transgene, even when stripped down to the bare minimum of the border repeats, was nevertheless able to replicate and spread, because the transposase enzyme enabling the piggyBac inserts to move can be provided by transposons present in all genomes.

    “The main reason initially for using transposons as vectors in insect control was precisely because they can spread the transgenes rapidly by ‘non-Mendelian’ means within a population, i.e., by replicating copies and jumping into genomes, thereby ‘driving’ the trait through the insect population. However, the scientists involved neglected the fact that the transposons could also jump into the genomes of the mammalian hosts including human beings …

    “In spite of instability and resulting genotoxicity, the piggyBac transposon has been used extensively also in human gene therapy. Several human cell lines have been transformed, even primary human T cells using piggyBac. These findings leave us little doubt that the transposon-borne transgenes in the transgenic mosquito can transfer horizontally to human cells. The piggyBac transposon was found to induce genome wide insertionmutations disrupting many gene functions.” 

    Has the GM nightmare finally come true?

    So down to the key question: was the Oxitec’s GM Aedes aegypti male-sterile mosquito released in Juazeiro engineered with the piggyBac transposon? Yes, it was. And that creates a highly significant possibility: that Oxitec’s release of its GM mosquitos led directly to the development of Brazil’s microcephaly epidemic through the following mechanism:

    1. Many of the millions of Oxitec GM mosquitos released in Juazeiro in 2011/2012 survive, assisted, but not dependent on, the presence of tetracycline in the environment.

    2. These mosquitos interbreed with with the wild population and their novel genes become widespread.

    3. The promiscuous piggyBac transposon now present in the local Aedes aegyptipopulation takes the opportunity to jump into the Zika virus, probably on numerous occasions.

    4. In the process certain mutated strains of Zika acquire a selective advantage, making them more virulent and giving them an enhanced ability to enter and disrupt human DNA.

    5. One way in which this manifests is by disrupting a key stage in the development of human embryos in the womb, causing microcephaly and the other reported deformations. Note that as Melo Oliveira et al warn, there are almost certainly other manifestations that have not yet been detected.

    6. It may be that the piggyBac transposon has itself entered the DNA of babies exposed in utero to the modified Zika virus. Indeed, this may form part of the mechanism by which embryonic development is disrupted.

    In the latter case, one implication is that the action of the gene could be blocked by giving pregnant women tetracycline in order to block its activity. The chances of success are probably low, but it has to be worth trying.

    No further releases of GM insects!

    While I am certainly not claiming that this is what actually took place, it is at least a credible hypothesis, and moreover a highly testable one. Nothing would be easier for genetic engineers than to test amniotic fluids, babies’ blood, wild Aedes mosquitos and the Zika virus itself for the presence of the piggyBac transposon, using well established and highly sensitive PCR (polymerase chain reaction) techniques.

    If this proves to be the case, those urging caution on the release of GMOs generally, and transgenic insects bearing promiscuous transposons in particular, will have been proved right on all counts.

    But most important, such experiments, and any deployment of similar GM insects, must be immediately halted until the possibilities outlined above can be safely ruled out. There are plans, for example, to release similarly modified Anopheles mosquitos as an anti-malarial measure.

    There are also calls for even more of the Oxitec Aedes aegypti mosquitos to be released in order to halt the transmission of the Zika virus. If that were to take place, it could give rise to numerous new mutations of the virus with the potential to cause even more damage to the human genome, that we can, at this stage, only guess at.

    Oliver Tickell edits The Ecologist.


     

    No, GM Mosquitoes Didn’t Start The Zika Outbreak (Discovery)

    By Christie Wilcox | January 31, 2016 9:56 pm

    ZIka_conspiracy_theory_cat

    A new ridiculous rumor is spreading around the internets. According to conspiracy theorists, the recent outbreak of Zika can be blamed on the British biotech company Oxitec, which some are saying even intentionally caused the disease as a form of ethnic cleansing or population control. The articles all cite a lone Redditor who proposed the connection on January 25th to the Conspiracy subreddit. “There are no biological free lunches,” says one commenter on the idea. “Releasing genetically altered species into the environment could have disastrous consequences” another added. “Maybe that’s what some entities want to happen…?”

    For some reason, it’s been one of those months where random nonsense suddenly hits mainstream. Here are the facts: there’s no evidence whatsoever to support this conspiracy theory, or any of the other bizarre, anti-science claims that have popped up in the past few weeks. So let’s stop all of this right here, right now: The Earth is round, not flat (and it’s definitely not hollow). Last year was the hottest year on record, and climate change is really happening (so please just stop, Mr. Cruz). And FFS, genetically modified mosquitoes didn’t start the Zika outbreak. 

    Background on Zika

    The Zika virus is a flavivirus closely related to notorious pathogens including dengue, yellow fever, Japanese encephalitis, and West Nile virus. The virus is transmitted by mosquitoes in the genus Aedes, especially A. aegypti, which is a known vector for many of Zika’s relatives. Symptoms of the infection appear three to twelve days post bite. Most people are asymptomatic, which means they show no signs of infection. The vast majority of those who do show signs of infection report fever, rash, joint pain, and conjunctivitis (red eyes), according to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control. After a week or less, the symptoms tend to go away on their own. Serious complications have occurred, but they have been extremely rare.

    The Zika virus isn’t new. It was first isolated in 1947 from a Rhesus monkey in the Zika Forest in Uganda, hence the pathogen’s name. The first human cases were confirmed in Uganda and Tanzania in 1952, and by 1968, the virus had spread to Nigeria. But since then, the virus has found its way out of Africa. The first major outbreak occurred on the island of Yap in Micronesia for 13 weeks 2007, during which 185 Zika cases were suspected (49 of those were confirmed, with another 59 considered probable). Then, in October 2013, an outbreak began in French Polynesia; around 10,000 cases were reported, less than 100 of which presented with severe neurological or autoimmune complications. One confirmed case of autochthonous transmission occurred in Chile in 2014, which means a person was infected while they were in Chile rather than somewhere else. Cases were also reported that year from several Pacific Islands. The virus was detected in Chile until June 2014, but then it seemed to disappear.

    Fast forward to May 2015, when the Pan American Health Organization (PAHO) issued an alert regarding the first confirmed Zika virus infection in Brazil. Since then, several thousand suspected cases of the disease and a previously unknown complication—a kind of birth defect known as microcephaly where the baby’s brain is abnormally small—have been reported from Brazil. (It’s important to note that while the connection between the virus and microcephaly is strongly suspected, the link has yet to be conclusively demonstrated.)

    Currently, there is no vaccine for Zika, though the recent rise in cases has spurred research efforts. Thus, preventing mosquito bites is the only prophylactic measure available.

    The recent spread of the virus has been described as “explosive”; Zika has now been detected in 25 countries and territories. The rising concern over both the number of cases and reports of serious complications has led the most affected areas in Brazil to declare a state of emergency, and on Monday, The World Health Organization’s Director-General will convene an International Health Regulations Emergency Committee on Zika virus and the observed increase in neurological disorders and neonatal malformations. At this emergency meeting, the committee will discuss mitigation strategies and decide whether the organization will officially declare the virus a “Public Health Emergency of International Concern.”

    GM to the Rescue

    aedes_aegypti

    The mosquito to blame for the outbreak—Aedes aegypti—doesn’t belong in the Americas. It’s native to Africa, and was only introduced in the new world when Europeans began to explore the globe. In the 20th century, mosquito control programs nearly eradicated the unwelcome menace from the Americas (largely thanks to the use of the controversial pesticide DDT); as late as the mid 1970s, Brazil and 15 other nations were Aedes aegypti-free. But despite the successes, eradication efforts were halted, allowing the mosquito to regain its lost territory.

    The distribution of Aedes aegypti in the Americas in 1970 and 2002.

    Effective control measures are expensive and difficult to maintain, so at the tail end of the 20th century and into the 21st, scientists began to explore creative means of controlling mosquito populations, including the use of genetic modification. Oxitec’s mosquitoes are one of the most exciting technologies to have emerged from this period. Here’s how they work, as I described in a post almost exactly a year ago:

    While these mosquitoes are genetically modified, they aren’t “cross-bred with the herpes simplex virus and E. colibacteria” (that would be an interkingdom ménage à trois!)—and no, they cannot be “used to bite people and essentially make them immune to dengue fever and chikungunya” (they aren’t carrying a vaccine!). The mosquitoes that Oxitec have designed are what scientists call “autocidal” or possess a “dominant lethal genetic system,” which is mostly fancy wording for “they die all by themselves”. The males carry inserted DNA which causes the mosquitoes to depend upon a dietary supplement that is easy to provide in the lab, but not available in nature. When the so-called mutants breed with normal females, all of the offspring require the missing dietary supplement because the suicide genes passed on from the males are genetically dominantThus, the offspring die before they can become adults. The idea is, if you release enough such males in an area, then the females won’t have a choice but to mate with them. That will mean there will be few to no successful offspring in the next generation, and the population is effectively controlled.

    Male mosquitoes don’t bite people, so they cannot serve as transmission vectors for Zika or any other disease. As for fears that GM females will take over: less than 5% of all offspring survive in the laboratory, and as Glen Slade, director of Oxitec’s Brazilian branch notes, those are the best possible conditions for survival. “It is considered unlikely that the survival rate is anywhere near that high in the harsher field conditions since offspring reaching adulthood will have been weakened by the self-limiting gene,” he told me. And contrary to what the conspiracy theorists claim, scientists have shown that tetracycline in the environment doesn’t increase that survival rate.

    Brazil, a hotspot for dengue and other such diseases, is one of the countries where Oxitec is testing their mozzies—so far, everywhere that Oxitec’s mosquitoes have been released, the local populations have been suppressed by about 90%.

    Wrong Place, Wrong Time

    Now that we’ve covered the background on the situation, let’s dig into the conspiracy theory. We’ll start with the main argument laid out as evidence: that the Zika outbreak began in the same location at the same time as the first Oxitec release:

    Though it’s often said, it’s worth repeating: correlation doesn’t equal causation. If it did, then Nicholas Cage is to blame for people drowning (Why, Nick? WHY?). But even beyond that, there are bigger problems with this supposed correlation: even by those maps, the site of release is on the fringe of the Zika hotspot, not the center of it. Just look at the two overlaid:

    The epicenter of the outbreak and the release clearly don’t line up—the epicenter is on the coast rather than inland where the map points. Furthermore, the first confirmed cases weren’t reported in that area, but in the town of Camaçari, Bahia, which is—unsurprisingly—on the coast and several hundred kilometers from the release site indicated.

    But perhaps more importantly, the location on the map isn’t where the mosquitoes were released. That map points to Juazeiro de Norte, Ceará, which is a solid 300 km away from Juazeiro, Bahia—the actual site of the mosquito trial. That location is even more on the edge of the Zika-affected area:

    1: Juaziero de Norte, the identified location in by conspiracy theorists. 2: Juaziero, the actual location of Oxitec's release trial, about 300 km away.

    The mistake was made initially by the Redditor who proposed the conspiracy theory and has been propagated through lazy journalistic practices by every proponent since. Here’s a quick tip: if you’re basing your conspiracy theory on location coincidence, it’s probably a good idea to actually get the location right.

    They’re also wrong about the date. According to the D.C. Clothesline:

    By July 2015, shortly after the GM mosquitoes were first released into the wild in Juazeiro, Brazil, Oxitec proudly announced they had “successfully controlled the Aedes aegypti mosquito that spreads dengue fever, chikungunya and zika virus, by reducing the target population by more than 90%.”

    However, GM mosquitoes weren’t first released in Juazeiro, Bahia (let alone Juazeiro de Norte, Ceará) in 2015. Instead, the announcement by Oxitec was of the published results of a trial that occurred in Juaziero between May 2011 and Sept 2012—a fact which is clearly stated in the methods and results of the paper that Oxitec was so excited to share.

    A new control effort employing Oxitec mosquitoes did begin in April 2015, but not in Juaziero, or any of the northeastern states of Brazil where the disease outbreak is occurring. As another press release from Oxitec states, the 2015 releases of their GM mosquitoes were in Piracicaba, São Paulo, Brazil:

    Following approval by Brazil’s National Biosafety Committee (CTNBio) for releases throughout the country, Piracicaba’s CECAP/Eldorado district became the world’s first municipality to partner directly with Oxitec and in April 2015 started releasing its self-limiting mosquitoes whose offspring do not survive. By the end of the calendar year, results had already indicated a reduction in wild mosquito larvae by 82%. Oxitec’s efficacy trials across Brazil, Panama and the Cayman Islands all resulted in a greater than 90% suppression of the wild Ae. aegypti mosquito population–an unprecedented level of control.

    Based on the positive results achieved to date, the ‘Friendly Aedes aegypti Project’ in CECAP/Eldorado district covering 5,000 people has been extended for another year. Additionally, Oxitec and Piracicaba have signed a letter of intent to expand the project to an area of 35,000-60,000 residents. This geographic region includes the city’s center and was chosen due to the large flow of people commuting between it and surrounding neighborhoods which may contribute to the spread of infestations and infections.

    Piracicaba mosquito control results

     

    Piracicaba, for the record, is more than 1300 miles away from the Zika epicenter:

    TKTK

    So not only did the conspiracy theorists get the location of the first Brazil release wrong, they either got the date wrong, too, or got the location of the 2015 releases really, really off. Either way, the central argument that the release of GM mosquitoes by Oxitec coincides with the first cases of Zika virus simply doesn’t hold up.

    Scientists Speak Out

    As this ludicrous conspiracy theory has spread, so, too, has the scientific opposition to it. “Frankly, I’m a little sick of this kind of anti-science platform,” said vector ecologist Tanjim Hossain from the University of Miami, when I asked him what he thought. “This kind of fear mongering is not only irresponsible, but may very well be downright harmful to vulnerable populations from a global health perspective.”

    Despite the specious allusions made by proponents of the conspiracy, this is still not Jurassic Park, says Hossain.

    “We have a problem where ZIKV is spreading rapidly and is widely suspected of causing serious health issues,” he continued. “How do we solve this problem? An Integrated Vector Management (IVM) approach is key. We need to use all available tools, old and new, to combat the problem. GM mosquitoes are a fairly new tool in our arsenal. The way I see it, they have the potential to quickly reduce a local population of vector mosquitoes to near zero, and thereby can also reduce the risk of disease transmission. This kind of strategy could be particularly useful in a disease outbreak ‘hotspot’ because you could hypothetically stop the disease in its tracks so to speak.”

    Other scientists have shared similar sentiments. Alex Perkins, a biological science professor at Notre Dame, told Business Insider that rather than causing the outbreak, GM mosquitoes might be our best chance to fight it. “It could very well be the case that genetically modified mosquitos could end up being one of the most important tools that we have to combat Zika,” Perkins said. “If anything, we should potentially be looking into using these more.”

    Brazilian authorities couldn’t be happier with the results so far, and are eager to continue to fight these deadly mosquitoes by any means they can. “The initial project in CECAP/Eldorado district clearly showed that the ‘friendly Aedes aegypti solution’ made a big difference for the inhabitants of the area, helping to protect them from the mosquito that transmits dengue, Zika and chikungunya,” said Pedro Mello, secretary of health in Piracicaba. He notes that during the 2014/2015 dengue season, before the trial there began, there were 133 cases of dengue. “In 2015/2016, after the beginning of the Friendly Aedes aegypti Project, we had only one case.”

    It’s long past time to stop villainizing Oxitec’s mosquitoes for crimes they didn’t commit. Claire BernishThe Daily MFailMirror and everyone else who has spread these baseless accusations: I’m talking to you. The original post was in the Conspiracy subreddit—what more of a red flag for “this is wildly inaccurate bullsh*t” do you need? (After all, if this is a legit source, where are your reports on the new hidden messages in the $100 bill? or why the Illuminati wants people to believe in aliens?). It’s well known that large-scale conspiracy theories are mathematically challenged. Don’t just post whatever crap is spewed on the internet because you know it’ll get you a few clicks. It’s dishonest, dangerous, and, frankly, deplorable to treat nonsense as possible truth just to prey upon your audience’s very real fears of an emerging disease. You, with your complete lack of integrity, are maggots feeding on the decay of modern journalism, and I mean that with no disrespect to maggots.

     

    How to choose? (Aeon)

    When your reasons are worse than useless, sometimes the most rational choice is a random stab in the dark

    by Michael Schulson

    Illustration by Tim McDonaghIllustration by Tim McDonagh

    Michael Schulson is an American freelance writer. His work has appeared in Religion Dispatches, The Daily Beast, and Religion and Politics, among others. He lives in Durham, North Carolina.

    We could start with birds, or we could start with Greeks. Each option has advantages.

    Let’s flip a coin. Heads and it’s the Greeks, tails and it’s the birds.

    Tails.

    In the 1970s, a young American anthropologist named Michael Dove set out for Indonesia, intending to solve an ethnographic mystery. Then a graduate student at Stanford, Dove had been reading about the Kantu’, a group of subsistence farmers who live in the tropical forests of Borneo. The Kantu’ practise the kind of shifting agriculture known to anthropologists as swidden farming, and to everyone else as slash-and-burn. Swidden farmers usually grow crops in nutrient-poor soil. They use fire to clear their fields, which they abandon at the end of each growing season.

    Like other swidden farmers, the Kantu’ would establish new farming sites ever year in which to grow rice and other crops. Unlike most other swidden farmers, the Kantu’ choose where to place these fields through a ritualised form of birdwatching. They believe that certain species of bird – the Scarlet-rumped Trogon, the Rufous Piculet, and five others – are the sons-in-law of God. The appearances of these birds guide the affairs of human beings. So, in order to select a site for cultivation, a Kantu’ farmer would walk through the forest until he spotted the right combination of omen birds. And there he would clear a field and plant his crops.

    Dove figured that the birds must be serving as some kind of ecological indicator. Perhaps they gravitated toward good soil, or smaller trees, or some other useful characteristic of a swidden site. After all, the Kantu’ had been using bird augury for generations, and they hadn’t starved yet. The birds, Dove assumed, had to be telling the Kantu’something about the land. But neither he, nor any other anthropologist, had any notion of what that something was.

    He followed Kantu’ augurers. He watched omen birds. He measured the size of each household’s harvest. And he became more and more confused. Kantu’ augury is so intricate, so dependent on slight alterations and is-the-bird-to-my-left-or-my-right contingencies that Dove soon found there was no discernible correlation at all between Piculets and Trogons and the success of a Kantu’ crop. The augurers he was shadowing, Dove told me, ‘looked more and more like people who were rolling dice’.

    Stumped, he switched dissertation topics. But the augury nagged him. He kept thinking about it for ‘a decade or two’. And then one day he realised that he had been looking at the question the wrong way all the time. Dove had been asking whether Kantu’ augury imparted useful ecological information, as opposed to being random. But what if augury was useful precisely because it was random?

    For the Kantu’, the best option was one familiar to any investor when faced with an unpredictable market: they needed to diversify

    Tropical swidden agriculture is a fundamentally unpredictable enterprise. The success of a Kantu’ swidden depends on rainfall, pest outbreaks and river levels, among other factors. A patch of forest that might yield a good harvest in a rainy year could be unproductive in a drier year, or in a year when a certain pest spreads. And things such as pest outbreaks or the weather are pretty much impossible to predict weeks or months in the future, both for humans and for birds.

    In the face of such uncertainty, though, the human tendency is to seek some kind of order – to come up with a systematic method for choosing a field site, and, in particular, to make decisions based on the conditions of the previous year.

    Neither option is useful. Last year’s conditions have pretty much no bearing on events in the years ahead (a rainy July 2013 does not have any bearing on the wetness of July 2014). And systematic methods can be prey to all sorts of biases. If, for example, a Kantu’ farmer predicted that the water levels would be favourable one year, and so put all his fields next to the river, a single flood could wipe out his entire crop. For the Kantu’, the best option was one familiar to any investor when faced with an unpredictable market: they needed to diversify. And bird augury was an especially effective way to bring about that kind of diversification.

    It makes sense that it should have taken Dove some 15 years to realise that randomness could be an asset. As moderns, we take it for granted that the best decisions stem from a process of empirical analysis and informed choice, with a clear goal in mind. That kind of decision-making, at least in theory, undergirds the ways that we choose political leaders, play the stock market, and select candidates for schools and jobs. It also shapes the way in which we critique the rituals and superstitions of others. But, as the Kantu’ illustrate, there are plenty of situations when random chance really is your best option. And those situations might be far more prevalent in our modern lives than we generally admit.

    Over the millennia, cultures have expended a great deal of time, energy and ingenuity in order to introduce some element of chance into decision-making. Naskapi hunters in the Canadian province of Labrador would roast the scapula of a caribou in order to determine the direction of their next hunt, reading the cracks that formed on the surface of the bone like a map. In China, people have long sought guidance in the passages of the I Ching, using the intricate manipulation of 49 yarrow stalks to determine which section of the book they ought to consult. The Azande of central Africa, when faced with a difficult choice, would force a powdery poison down a chicken’s throat, finding the answer to their question in whether or not the chicken survived – a hard-to-predict, if not quite random, outcome. (‘I found this as satisfactory a way of running my home and affairs as any other I know of,’ wrote the British anthropologist E E Evans-Pritchard, who adopted some local customs during his time with the Azande in the 1920s).

    The list goes on. It could – it does – fill books. As any blackjack dealer or tarot reader might tell you, we have a love for the flip of the card. Why shouldn’t we? Chance has some special properties. It is a swift, consistent, and (unless your chickens all die) relatively cheap decider. Devoid of any guiding mind, it is subject to neither blame nor regret. Inhuman, it can act as a blank surface on which to descry the churning of fate or the work of divine hands. Chance distributes resources and judges disputes with perfect equanimity.

    The sanitising effect of augury cleans out any bad reasons

    Above all, chance makes its selection without any recourse to reasons. This quality is perhaps its greatest advantage, though of course it comes at a price. Peter Stone, a political theorist at Trinity College, Dublin, and the author of The Luck of the Draw: The Role of Lotteries in Decision Making (2011), has made a career of studying the conditions under which such reasonless-ness can be, well, reasonable.

    ‘What lotteries are very good for is for keeping bad reasons out of decisions,’ Stone told me. ‘Lotteries guarantee that when you are choosing at random, there will be no reasons at all for one option rather than another being selected.’ He calls this the sanitising effectof lotteries – they eliminate all reasons from a decision, scrubbing away any kind of unwanted influence. As Stone acknowledges, randomness eliminates good reasons from the running as well as bad ones. He doesn’t advocate using chance indiscriminately. ‘But, sometimes,’ he argues, ‘the danger of bad reasons is bigger than the loss of the possibility of good reasons.’

    For an example, let’s return to the Kantu’. Besides certain basic characteristics, when it comes to selecting a swidden site in the forest, there are no good reasons by which to choose a site. You just don’t know what the weather and pests will look like. As a result, any reasons that a Kantu’ farmer uses will either be neutral, or actively harmful. The sanitising effect of augury cleans out those bad reasons. The Kantu’ also establish fields in swampland, where the characteristics of a good site are much more predictable – where, in other words, good reasons are abundant. In the swamps, as it happens, the Kantu’ don’t use augury to make their pick.

    Thinking about choice and chance in this way has applications outside rural Borneo, too. In particular, it can call into question some of the basic mechanisms of our rationalist-meritocratic-democratic system – which is why, as you might imagine, a political theorist such as Stone is so interested in randomness in the first place.

    Around the same time that Michael Dove was pondering his riddle in a Kantu’ longhouse, activists and political scientists were beginning to revive the idea of filling certain political positions by lottery, a process known as sortition.

    The practice has a long history. Most public officials in democratic Athens were chosen by lottery, including the nine archons who were chosen by sortition from a significant segment of the population. The nobles of Renaissance Venice used to select their head of state, the doge, through a complicated, partially randomised process. Jean-Jacques Rousseau, in The Social Contract (1762), argued that lotteries would be the norm in an ideal democracy, giving every citizen an equal chance of participating in every part of the government (Rousseau added that such ideal democracies did not exist). Sortition survives today in the process of jury selection, and it crops up from time to time in unexpected places. Ontario and British Columbia, for example, have used randomly selected panels of Canadian citizens to propose election regulations.

    Advocates of sortition suggest applying that principle more broadly, to congresses and parliaments, in order to create a legislature that closely reflects the actual composition of a state’s citizenship. They are not (just to be clear) advocating that legislators randomly choosepolicies. Few, moreover, would suggest that non-representative positions such as the US presidency be appointed by a lottery of all citizens. The idea is not to banish reason from politics altogether. But plenty of bad reasons can influence the election process – through bribery, intimidation, and fraud; through vote-purchasing; through discrimination and prejudices of all kinds. The question is whether these bad reasons outweigh the benefits of a system in which voters pick their favourite candidates.

    By way of illustration: a handful of powerful families and influential cliques dominated Renaissance Venice. The use of sortition in selection of the doge, writes the historian Robert Finlay in Politics in Renaissance Venice (1980), was a means of ‘limiting the ability of any group to impose its will without an overwhelming majority or substantial good luck’. Americans who worry about unbridled campaign-spending by a wealthy few might relate to this idea.

    Or consider this. In theory, liberal democracies want legislatures that accurately reflect their citizenship. And, presumably, the qualities of a good legislator (intelligence, integrity, experience) aren’t limited to wealthy, straight, white men. The relatively homogeneous composition of our legislatures suggests that less-than-ideal reasons are playing a substantial role in the electoral process. Typically, we just look at this process and wonder how to eliminate that bias. Advocates of sortition see conditions ripe for randomness.

    Once all good reasons are eliminated, the most efficient, most fair and most honest option might be chance

    It’s not only politics where the threat of bad reasons, or a lack of any good reasons, makes the luck of the draw seem attractive. Take college admissions. When Columbia University accepts just 2,291 of its roughly 33,000 applicants, as it did this year, it’s hard to imagine that the process was based strictly on good reasons. ‘College admissions are already random; let’s just admit it and begin developing a more effective system,’ wrote the education policy analyst Chad Aldeman on the US daily news site Inside Higher Ed back in 2009. He went on to describe the notion of collegiate meritocracy as ‘a pretension’ and remarked: ‘A lottery might be the answer.’

    The Swarthmore College professor Barry Schwartz, writing in The Atlantic in 2012, came to a similar conclusion. He proposed that, once schools have narrowed down their applicant pools to a well-qualified subset, they could just draw names. Some schools in the Netherlands already use a similar system. ‘A lottery like this won’t correct the injustice that is inherent in a pyramidal system in which not everyone can rise to the top,’ wrote Schwartz. ‘But it will reveal the injustice by highlighting the role of contingency and luck.’ Once certain standards are met, no really good reasons remain to discriminate between applicant No 2,291 (who gets into Columbia) and applicant No 2,292 (who does not). And once all good reasons are eliminated, the most efficient, most fair and most honest option might be chance.

    But perhaps not the most popular one. When randomness is added to a supposedly meritocratic system, it can inspire quite a backlash. In 2004, the International Skating Union (ISU) introduced a new judging system for figure-skating competitions. Under this system – which has since been tweaked – 12 judges evaluated each skater, but only nine of those votes, selected at random, actually counted towards the final tally (the ancient Athenians judged drama competitions in a similar way). Figure skating is a notoriously corrupt sport, with judges sometimes forming blocs that support each other’s favoured skaters. In theory, a randomised process makes it harder to form such alliances. A tit-for-tat arrangement, after all, doesn’t work as well if it’s unclear whether your partners will be able to reciprocate.

    But the new ISU rules did more than simply remove a temptation to collude. As statisticians pointed out, random selection will change the outcome of some events. Backing their claims with competition data, they showed how other sets of randomly selected votes would have yielded different results, actually changing the line-up of the medal podium in at least one major competition. Even once all the skaters had performed, ultimate victory depended on the luck of the draw.

    There are two ways to look at this kind of situation. The first way – the path of outrage – condemns a system that seems fundamentally unfair. A second approach would be to recognise that the judging process is already subjective and always will be. Had a different panel of 12 judges been chosen for the competition, the result would have varied, too. The ISU system simply makes that subjectivity more apparent, even as it reduces the likelihood that certain obviously bad influences, such as corruption, will affect the final result.

    Still, most commentators opted for righteous outrage. That isn’t surprising. The ISU system conflicts with two common modern assumptions: that it is always desirable (and usually possible) to eliminate uncertainty and chance from a situation; and that achievement is perfectly reflective of effort and talent. Sortition, college admission lotteries, and randomised judging run against the grain of both of these premises. They embrace uncertainty as a useful part of their processes, and they fail to guarantee that the better citizen or student or skater, no matter how much she drives herself to success, will be declared the winner.

    Let me suggest that, in the fraught and unpredictable world in which we live, both of those ideals – total certainty and perfect reward – are delusional. That’s not to say that we shouldn’t try to increase knowledge and reward success. It’s just that, until we reach that utopia, we might want to come to terms with the reality of our situation, which is that our lives are dominated by uncertainty, biases, subjective judgments and the vagaries of chance.

    In the novel The Man in the High Castle (1962), the American sci-fi maestro Philip K Dick imagines an alternative history in which Germany and Japan win the Second World War. Most of the novel’s action takes place in Japanese-occupied San Francisco, where characters, both Japanese and American, regularly use the I Ching to guide difficult decisions in their business lives and personal affairs.

    Something, somewhere, is always playing dice

    As an American with no family history of divination, I’ll admit to being enchanted by Dick’s vision of a sci-fi world where people yield some of their decision-making power to the movements of dried yarrow stems. There’s something liberating, maybe, in being able to acknowledge that the reasons we have are often inadequate, or downright poor. Without needing to impose any supernatural system, it’s not hard to picture a society in which chance plays a more explicit, more accepted role in the ways in which we distribute goods, determine admissions to colleges, give out jobs to equally matched applicants, pick our elected leaders, and make personal decisions in our own lives.

    Such a society is not a rationalist’s nightmare. Instead, in an uncertain world where bad reasons do determine so much of what we decide, it’s a way to become more aware of what factors shape the choices we make. As Peter Stone told me, paraphrasing Immanuel Kant, ‘the first task of reason is to recognise its own limitations’. Nor is such a society more riddled with chanciness than our own. Something, somewhere, is always playing dice. The roles of coloniser and colonised, wealthy and poor, powerful and weak, victor and vanquished, are rarely as predestined as we imagine them to be.

    Dick seems to have understood this. Certainly, he embraced chance in a way that few other novelists ever have. Years after he wrote The Man in the High Castle, Dick explained to an interviewer that, setting aside from planning and the novelist’s foresight, he had settled key details of the book’s plot by flipping coins and consulting the I Ching.

    14 July 2014

    IMF’s Peter Doyle scorns its ‘tainted’ leadership (BBC)

    20 July 2012 Last updated at 11:50 GMT

    Christine LagardePeter Doyle claims there was a “fundamental illegitimacy” in Christine Lagarde’s appointment

    A top economist at the International Monetary Fund has poured scorn on its “tainted” leadership and said he is “ashamed” to have worked there.

    Peter Doyle said in a letter to the IMF executive board that he wanted to explain his resignation after 20 years.

    He writes of “incompetence”, “failings” and “disastrous” appointments for the IMF’s managing director, stretching back 10 years.

    No one from the Washington-based IMF was immediately available for comment.

    Mr Doyle, former adviser to the IMF’s European Department, which is running the bailout programs for Greece, Portugal and Ireland, said the Fund’s delay in warning about the urgency of the global financial crisis was a failure of the “first order”.

    In the letter, dated 18 June and obtained by the US broadcaster CNN, Mr Doyle said the failings of IMF surveillance of the financial crisis “are, if anything, becoming more deeply entrenched”.

    He writes: “This fact is most clear in regard to appointments for managing director which, over the past decade, have all-too-evidently been disastrous.

    “Even the current incumbent [Christine Lagarde] is tainted, as neither her gender, integrity, or elan can make up for the fundamental illegitimacy of the selection process.”

    Mr Doyle is thought to be echoing here widespread criticism that the head of the IMF is always a European, while the World Bank chief is always a US appointee.

    Mr Doyle concludes his letter: “There are good salty people here. But this one is moving on. You might want to take care not to lose the others.”

    The IMF could not be reached immediately by the BBC. However, CNN reported that a Fund spokesman told it that there was nothing to substantiate Mr Doyle’s claims and that the IMF had held its own investigations into surveillance of the financial crisis.

    Analysis

    image of Andrew WalkerAndrew WalkerBBC World Service Economics correspondent

    Peter Doyle’s letter is short but the criticism excoriating. Perhaps the bigger of the two main charges is that the IMF failed to warn enough about the problems that led to the global financial crises.

    The IMF has had investigations which have, up to a point, made similar criticisms, but not in such inflammatory terms. The IMF did issue some warnings, but the allegation that they were not sustained or timely enough and were actively suppressed raises some very big questions about the IMF’s role.

    Then there is the description of the managing director as tainted. It’s not personal. It’s a familiar attack on a process which always selects a European. It’s still striking, though, to hear it from someone so recently on the inside.