I never particularly loved school (aside from the extracurricular activities, of course), but I was always a pretty good student. English and math were always right up my alley, and I even passed "hacky sack" in P.E. ca. 1994. But science and me? We've never been such great friends, I have to say. Admitting and embracing my intellectual limitations and right-brain-dominance, I have always been more than willing to blindly accept the fact that things like electricity just work, rather than having someone explain to me
exactly how they work. (I kind of glaze over, to be honest. You should feel sorry for my poor engineer husband.) I appreciate that my attitude is pretty selfish and anti-intellectual. I will own that. I just wish that it made me the worst kind of unscientific person. But I'm not even close.
You see, I think I always took it for granted that most non-science-y people were inclined, like I am, to trust science-y people on issues of,
well, science. But the modern prevalence of online communications has given us all a terrifying glimpse into how our fellow humans' brains actually work, and it's pretty ugly. Like, "I dislike facts" ugly. I may have gotten a C in high school chemistry, but I have always been a fan of facts and accepted them for what they are.
It was actually the simplest, dumbest thing in the world that sent me over the edge last week. Someone innocently posted a funny image on Facebook, a commenter linked to Snopes to show that the image is a hoax, and the original poster responded with an appropriate, "Oh, shoot. I'm sorry!" No problem. This kinda stuff happens all the time. The truth was documented, and we're all the wiser. End of the conversation, right? Wrong.
It's what happens next that always gets me. The fact-haters start speaking up in the comments:
Oh, come on -- it's funny! Seeing the humor makes life more pleasant.
I'm just going to go ahead and choose to believe this is true because it's so hilarious.
Why are you ruining the fun by pointing out that it's fake?
It's as though people now take it as a
personal insult when others point out evidence, facts, or any of those other silly things that I used to think were universally valued. And the false-equivalency attitude that fact-free opinions deserve the same respect and attention as actual, factual evidence might be the thing that most makes me want to pull my lower lip over my skull and cry in a corner in the fetal position. Like when Bill Nye the Science Guy has to debate the creation museum dude. Or like when I was told in an online discussion group recently that I would have to "agree to disagree" with a woman who'd just implied that vaccines cause autism. Whatever happened to the notion of "You're entitled to your own opinion, but not your own facts?" That's apparently "out" now. We're living in the age in which people
aren't held back by their own lack of knowledge.
Hey, I admit that I have made a conscious choice to be part of the online parenting community and that there are inherent risks in doing this. A lot of them, actually. I've privately lost my mind more than a few times dealing with discourteous people who think the world revolves around their children and activists who for some reason think it's a heroic cause to insert their noses into the issue of how other people feed their babies. Bottom line: There are certainly a lot of people out there raising their kids without facts. And while it makes me sad, I try not to make it my business.
Until it is.
I am absolutely, 100% entitled to be angry with people who live in my community, don't vaccinate their children, spread their B.S. around, and then send their kids into public spaces with
my kid, putting him and others at risk. I am absolutely, 100% entitled to be angry with Alicia Silverstone for using her celebrity status to
write a book telling depressed new mothers that they wouldn't feel like committing suicide if they'd just eaten more vegetables.
These fact-free evangelists are
actually killing people. And for what?
I guess that's why now, approximately three years into my adventure in the online parenting world, I have seen enough, am officially angry, and have taken it upon myself to learn more about scientific research methods, even if I am still not 100% sure how my blow dryer works. Because now that any person can be an amateur scientist or any celebrity mother can write a medical book, apparently, we all have to be armed with facts. Real, meaty, lovely facts. And we can't be afraid to share them with people.
Why, no. Having your pregnancy induced
does not increase your chance of C-section.
Why, no. Breastfeeding your baby
won't actually make his IQ higher.
Why, no. Herd immunity
isn't a myth.
Why, no.
Guns DO kill children.
For many years, it was considered bad practice for doctors to participate in social media. But staying away from the discussion may have been the worst practice of all. Today, when you search for parenting information online, most of it is
bad information. If you need someone to tell you breastmilk cures cancer or how to sue the government because your child definitely developed autism from a vaccine, you can find him or her. What's really missing from the online discussion are the voices of evidence-based medicine. I'm glad more and more medical professionals are starting to insert themselves into the discussion -- including our own pediatrician, who recently started a blog to distribute accurate information for parents. The more we get, the more likely we'll be to heed it and ignore the crazy stuff.
Then maybe next time a father "
googles vaccines" he won't get information that scares him out of a tetanus shot -- making a decision that nearly kills his son. In the battle between facts and the Internet, the Internet is winning in a big, scary way. But me? I'm cheering for science to become cool again.
