The Last of Us has become one of the most popular and widely discussed TV series of the last two years. Its post-apocalyptic horror and references to a pandemic event turned up just at the right moment, when the world was starting to recover from the Covid-19 pandemic, and faced new crisis events. But, along with this fictional component, its scientific aspect has also attracted attention: it was the first time “zombie fungi” penetrated into popular culture so deeply.
The main fungal character of this series is a Cordyceps fungus. In real life, fungi of this genus can alter the behaviour of infected insects, turning them into a kind of ‘zombie’ whose only purpose is to ensure the fungus’ spread. The show’s thrilling plot raises a question: could such a scenario happen to humans? Is there a possibility that one day, a fungus emerges that will transform the infected into aggressive monsters?
More than a year ago, The Skeptic featured an article by Natália Pasternak, a microbiologist from Columbia University. Natália argues that the ‘zombie fungus’ threat is only fictional – ‘zombie fungi’ in insects are highly specialised and interact with the host’s brain via an intricate set of chemicals. They are highly unlikely to jump to humans.
The neurochemical mechanism of the ‘zombie fungus’ effect in an infected ant. There is no evidence that any fungus can trigger the same changes in any vertebrate including humans. Image credit: Lenapcrd/Wikimedia Commons/CC BY-SA 4.0.
I fully agree with Natália, and could add that the phenomenon of behaviour-altering parasites is well characterised today. In humans, strong behaviour-altering action is exhibited by the rabies virus only. This virus makes its host aggressive and prone to bite, thus facilitating the spread of the virus through infected saliva. This is not a ‘zombie virus’, but our civilisation had gotten acquainted with it far earlier than we learned the word ‘zombie’. Behaviour-altering action is also suggested for Toxoplasma gondii – but, while it is well evidenced in mice, its effects are questionable in humans.
There is no evidence that any fungus can exert behaviour-altering action on humans. Moreover, there is no evidence for such an action in any vertebrate. Thus, I agree that the threat of being infected with a behaviour-altering fungus is negligible. But there is a real, conceivable danger to face new, emerging infections caused by fungi.
A more realistic fungal threat
Sixty five million years ago, a giant asteroid struck Earth, causing an effect comparable to a full-scale nuclear war. All large plants died at once due to an extreme blast of air and fire, and the planet was plunged into darkness by soot particles in the atmosphere.
In such harsh conditions, the biosphere turned into a “fungal compost”, says Dr Arturo Casadevall, infectious disease researcher. According to Dr Casadevall, this environment full of fungi made our small ancestors become warm-blooded. Most fungi are psychrophilic – this means they thrive in cool environments in relatively low temperatures, up to 30°C. Our body temperature of around 37°C grants us a narrow temperature barrier, just several degrees wide – that is unfavourable for most fungi. But, due to our warming climate, there is risk that things may change.
Fungi evolve rapidly and can easily adapt to observable climate change. The slow, degree-by-degree rise of global temperatures can shift their optimum temperature upwards – closer and closer to body temperature. If we lose our thermal barrier, we could be exposed to risks from a plethora of fungi that were previously innocuous to us.
This is not just theoretical speculation. The recent review in The Lancet Microbe cites some examples of fungal pathogens that have already shifted to humans from other habitats. The yeast Candida orthopsilosis, a human opportunistic pathogen, originated from a warm marine ecosystem. Fusarium oxysporum was a banana pathogen, but now it is becoming capable of causing infections in a number of human organs too, from skin to bones. Finally, the clinical strains of Candida auris – an emerging nosocomial pathogen – grow at higher temperatures than environmental strains.
A strain of Candida auris – an emerging fungal pathogen – cultured in a petri dish at a CDC laboratory. Its rise could be a consequence of climate change. Image credit: CDC/Wikimedia Commons/Public Domain.
It is possible that we are already facing the loss of our temperature barrier – and it is difficult to estimate which fungus is the next candidate to meet us. As a recent headline on Euronews pithily put it, our worst case scenario might be “The Last of Us minus the zombie part”.
The article by Natália Pasternak did mention these threats – but I feel compelled to put an additional emphasis on the real fungal threat. We should not be too calm. Instead of the fears of zombie disease, The Last of Us should be a promotion of knowledge about emerging fungal infections that are unfortunately underestimated, in contrast to viruses, for example.
What can we do? We need a system of tracking emerging and cross-kingdom fungal infections worldwide, to help us estimate and assess the danger. However, even that could be too late to stop the most detrimental events we might see unfold, since climate change cannot be reversed at once. This is one more reason to promote, invent and implement sustainable technologies right now.
Carbon emissions should become the problem for each of us – otherwise they will become the problem for the last of us.
Note: this article was written in late July 2024, the week prior to race riots powered by misinformation that swept across England and Belfast in Northern Ireland.
Pseudoscientific, conspiratorial, religious and overtly non-reality-based policies have always crept in on the edges of UK politics. In the 1990s, the Natural Law Party delighted TV viewers – if not voters – with party political broadcasts highlighting their belief that transcendental meditation and yogic flying would end poverty and bring about world peace, before ultimately disbanding in 2001.
Jump forward to the 2024 elections and the Scottish Family Party stood on a rather different religiously-motivated platform, based on “Judeo-Christian-inspired values.” As such, their 2023 policy document opposes same-sex marriage for the sake of children, which is of course completelycontrary to the repeated, worldwideevidence. Scottish voters reassuringly and overwhelmingly rejected the party’s candidates.
Towards the mainstream, though, parties mostly seek to distance themselves from such fringe beliefs, with the Green Party’s growing aspirations clearly highlighted by their leadership moving away from – for example – support for homeopathy. While vestiges of those beliefs remain, such as the quickly-amended policy on natural childbirth, the speed with which it was amended this year shows that there is clearly risk in being associated with “woo-inclined” policies, and highlights a divide in the Greens between the old guard and younger, more evidence-focused supporters.
In fairness, not all such “woo-inclined” thinking is confined to the Greens, or even the left. MPs from across the political spectrum, from Labour and Conservative to SNP and Liberal Democrat, have signed Early Day Motionssupportinghomeopathy, although thankfully all these EDMs were from 2010 or earlier. An optimist might speculate that as the evidence on homeopathy has become more well-known, so MP behaviour has adjusted accordingly.
One political party in 2024 bucked the mainstream tendency towards following the evidence. Right-wing populist party Reform UK, which received the third largest number of votes (but came a distant joint-sixth in terms of constituencies won), embraced many policies in direct contrast to the other widely supported parties.
Net zero will make zero difference to climate change… The idea that you can stop the power of the sun or volcanoes is simply ludicrous.
The science, of course, says that humans, not the sun or volcanoes, are responsible for climate change. While the majority of UK voters do believe that climate change is real and requires action, there remains a persistent core of people more likely to vote for a party advocating the opposite. It is hard to see what can be done to change minds on this, considering the extremely high visibility and awareness around this issue.
Or to take a “culture war” issue, Reform UK’s manifesto promises to “scrap Diversity, Equality and Inclusion (DE&I) rules that have lowered standards and reduced economic productivity.” Again there is a sizeable minority of British people who think that EDI initiatives lead to unfair outcomes, and to whom Reform UK can appeal. This is one area where evidence and self-interest can meet: diversity in corporations, contrary to the Reform UK claims, correlates very clearly with economic benefits and improved financial performance. EDI isn’t just the right thing to do; it is the profitable thing to do. In the continuing cost of living crisis and economic underperformance of the UK, this may resonate with at least some anti-EDI hold-outs.
Beyond the manifesto, party leader Nigel Farage posted the following on social media:
Reform UK will reject the influence of the World Economic Forum and cancel Britain’s membership of it.
Aside from being nonsensical – no country is a member of the WEF – this kind of message directly reaches a certain group of conspiracy-minded folk who see the WEF and Klaus Schwab as being behind every conspiracy around, from Covid vaccinations and the Great Reset to 15 minute cities and eating insects for protein. Whether or not Reform UK intended to reach these audiences, they clearly did, with Sky News reporting that conspiracist groups on Telegram “posted 5,239 messages about Mr Farage/Reform UK – more than any other party”, and that:
One of the most prominent groups that focuses on the QAnon conspiracy theory… said it would be launching a Reform UK based group on Facebook with QAnon content in order to “bring a lot of traffic to the group”.
Al Baker, managing director of Prose, which analysed the data from Telegram, notes that while being a Reform UK voter doesn’t mean you are a conspiracy theorist, if you are a conspiracy theorist then “you are far more likely to support Reform UK than other parties.”
For some on the fringe, though, Reform UK does not go far enough. In The Light Paper and similar channels on Telegram, arguments erupted during the election campaign and its aftermath as to whether Reform UK are “controlled opposition”, if a vote for Reform UK was participating in a “psyop” and giving legitimacy to “globalist” Labour by boosting turnout, and whether Nigel Farage and Richard Tice are really out to fight the system – or just in it for themselves…
A hex-style map showing the result of the 2024 UK general election, with Reform UK’s five seats in the east of England visible in turquoise. By Gust Justice, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
As Al Baker notes, however, many Reform UK voters are likely unaware that they voted for the conspiracy theorists’ party of choice. Most Reform UK leaflets, after all, focused on their core policy messages around immigration and small boats, NHS waiting lists, taxes and energy bills. Most wider media coverage of Reform UK is, of course, based on the ample time given to Nigel Farage’s views by broadcasters and print alike.
Of the largest parties, Reform UK voters were least likely to vote tactically, with 85% of their voters saying they are making a positive choice to vote for Reform. This is unusually high compared to most parties’ voters in the UK. Whether motivated by conspiracy theories and culture-war grudges, or anger about the cost of living, immigration and the NHS, these voters aren’t going away. The systemic unfairness of the UK’s first-past-the-post voting system can’t be guaranteed to keep them out forever.
How to reach some of the one in seven voters who are enthusiastic about a party like Reform UK is something we should all take seriously.
Since 1789, the French have taken pride in laïcité. This is the separation of religion from public life and state institutions, emphasising the neutrality of the state in religious matters and the freedom of individuals to practise any religion or none at all. France upholds strong protections for freedom of expression, even when it involves blasphemy, criticism or satire of religion.
A huge challenge for France in recent times has been the assimilation of migrants from Muslim countries – where secularism is very weak – while at the same time upholding the principles of laïcité. There is some truth in the claim that, in the name of anti-racism and multiculturalism, some political actors in the left side of the political spectrum throughout Europe have been too complacent with migrants who are not willing to embrace secularism. France has courageously stood against that complacency, as in the staunch defense of Charlie Hebdo after the attacks by terrorists offended by blasphemous cartoons.
But in the context of the rise of the nationalist far-right in France, a bigger challenge now ensues. For it is no longer only Muslim citizens who are quick to be offended by seemingly blasphemous symbols. Christians – who, ever since revolutionary times in France, had learned to accept that blasphemy cannot be considered a crime – also want a slice of the religious pie, setting back the clock to the Ancien régime.
The inauguration of the 2024 Paris Olympics is a case in point. The ceremony featured choreography that, to many, seemed like a blasphemous parody of Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper. The backlash from many conservatives was intense. Influential Catholic bishop Robert Barron lamented the affair:
I see this clear mockery of the Last Supper, and for Christians, the Last Supper, when Jesus, in anticipation of his death, gives his body and blood to the world… it’s… at the center of Christianity, and to see… drag queens and so on, cavorting in imitation of da Vinci’s Last Supper, how could Christians not construe that as a slap?
Except that it was not – at least not this time, anyway. As the organisers of the event have now clarified, the dance was not inspired by The Last Supper, but rather by scenes from Greek mythology. Thomas Jolly – the artistic director – explained that the ceremony was inspired by Jan van Bijlert’s painting The Feast of the Gods, with a focus on the Greek god Dionysus. The rushed reaction of conservative Christians has been taken as evidence of their ignorance of the history of art.
I beg to differ. In my view, the ceremony could be plausibly interpreted either way. But this is not fortuitous. There are indeed resemblances between the theme of the Last Supper and feasts of pagan gods. In both religious narratives, some divine being eats a meal in the company of others, and it is therefore inevitable that, in the artistic depictions of both traditions, some resemblances might come out. Indeed, this raises a long-discussed issue in the history of religions: to what extent is Christianity based on pagan traditions?
The Feast of the Gods, classical painting, Jan van Bijlert, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
My view is that it is impossible to deny some pagan influence. Some authors have overblown the case and have argued that there was never a historical Jesus, but rather, the character portrayed in the New Testament is a fictional reinterpretation of pagan Mediterranean deities. This claim has been debunked many times by competent historians. But even granting that there was a historical Jesus and that some – but by no means all – stories narrated in the gospels did take place, it is only sensible to admit that the Christian interpretation of Jesus has been coloured by pagan influences.
Consider, for example, the halo. In many artistic depictions of Jesus – although notin da Vinci’s Last Supper – Jesus is presented with a halo. In the 2024 Olympics ceremony, the central figure – a large woman wearing a blue outfit – also sports a feature over her head that could be construed as a halo. Consequently, it is understandable that Christians might consider this a parody of Jesus. But, in Jan van Bijlert’s The Feast of the Gods, the god with a halo and occupying a central place is Apollo. In Roman and Greek cultures, halos were used to denote divine or exceptional figures. The halo represents the sun and, consequently, solar deities – Apollo being one of them – were typically adorned with halos.
Some authors who claim Jesus never existed suggest that the fictional character may have been modeled on solar deities. Again, this is a very questionable claim. In the New Testament, whatever associations are made between Jesus and the sun are tenuous at best and, in any case, Jesus is never described as having a halo.
Prior to the fifth century, halos were absent in Christian art. But by the early Middle Ages, depictions of Jesus began to incorporate the halo, and it is impossible to avoid the conclusion that this artistic feature carried pagan influences, although admittedly such interpretations of Jesus as a solar deity were not grounded in core Christian doctrine or tradition.
The God Mithra on the rock relief of Shapour II at Taq-e Bustan. Image by dynamosquito from France, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons
However, the theme of the Last Supper is at the core of Christianity, and here some pagan influence is notorious. As per traditional Christian interpretation, the occasion for the Last Supper was the Jewish Passover. Christians may object to the claim that their religion is grounded in pagan elements, but they acknowledge that Jesus was a Jew, and that Christianity derives from Judaism. In that regard, they are not at all bothered by the claim that the Last Supper has Jewish origins because, after all, the Last Supper was a Passover meal.
Yet, this is historically dubious. The gospels do not even agree on this point. The synoptic gospels – Matthew, Mark and Luke – claim that, indeed, the Last Supper was a Passover meal. But the gospel of John asserts that the Last Supper took place one day beforePassover.
Historians do not usually lend much credibility to John’s version of events, but in this case, it seems that the Last Supper was nota Passover meal. The central elements of the Passover as per Jewish tradition are absent in the accounts of the synoptic gospels. There is no paschal lamb, no bitter herbs, no four cups of wine. Likewise, the book of Exodus suggest that Jews were not allowed to go out of their houses after the Passover but, as per the synoptics’ account, Jesus does so when he goes out to pray in the garden of Gethsemane.
If not a Passover celebration, what then was the Last Supper? If one accepts that Jesus anticipated that he would soon be arrested – a debatable premise – then it was probably a farewell meal. If, on the contrary, one believes that Jesus was completely surprised by his arrest (I personally lean more towards this hypothesis) then it was merely a regular meal. Either way, it seems very unlikely that during that meal, Jesus – a Jew first and foremost – would institute the ritual of the eucharist. Judaism has strong dietary regulations, and the idea of reenacting some form of cannibalism – even if only symbolically – would have been extremely alien to Jesus and his disciples.
Whence the eucharist, then? Many secular historians think the apostle Paul is the originator of this ritual and its theological implications. The ritual is mentioned for the first time in one of his letters – 1 Corinthians, which was written decades before the gospels. Paul was also a Jew but, unlike Jesus, he was Hellenistic. Consequently, Paul was much more familiar with Greek and Roman religious ideas that were widespread throughout the Mediterranean basin.
In that world, mystery religions were prevalent; one feature of such religions was the ritual consumption of an animal symbolising a deity in order to absorb its powers, particularly related to the idea of death and rebirth. It is not a long stretch of the imagination to assert that Paul incorporated these pagan ideas and practices into his interpretation of who Jesus was and, decades later, the gospels – all written by authors influenced by Paul’s ideas – developed the notion into a foundational narrative.
Not much is known about mystery religions, but it is plausible to think that their rituals involving meals were partly built on Greek mythological themes of banquets and feasts where gods dine on ambrosia, nectar and wine. Consequently, there may very well be some connection between pagan scenes of gods celebrating a big meal – such as the one depicted by Jan van Bijlert – and the Christian Last Supper – such as the one depicted by da Vinci. When a troupe of dancers ambiguously represents the former, it is not completely unexpected that many Christians would think that the dance is parodying the latter.
This affair should leave a couple of lessons. First, if European governments are concerned that some Muslim migrants may not be sufficiently willing to assimilate to the secular requirements of society, then Christians must lead with example and resist the urge to call for the criminalisation of blasphemy. Admittedly, in the aftermath of the Olympics ceremony, nobody called for beheadings or arrests, but the indignation was intense and Christians must make sure that this indignation never delves into requests for blasphemy laws.
Second, Christians should deepen their comprehension of their own religion’s history. This entails coming to terms with the fact that Christianity did borrow some elements from pagan cults and other religions. In so doing, Christians will be in a better position to understand that particular artistic expressions that may at first seem a blasphemous attack against their traditions are nothing of the sort.
Since 2012, The Skeptic has had the pleasure of awarding the Ockham Awards – our annual awards celebrating the very best work from within the skeptical community. The awards were founded because we wanted to draw attention to those people who work hard to get a great message out. The Ockhams recognise the effort and time that have gone into the community’s favourite campaigns, activism, blogs, podcasts, and outstanding contributors to the skeptical cause.
Last year’s Ockham winner was Knowledge Fight, the long-running podcast that dissects right-wing propagandist Alex Jones, and through that lens attempts to shine light on the larger community of extremists he exists within. Created in January 2017 by Dan Friesen and Jordan Holmes, it has amassed a sizeable fanbase, and has become an essential repository for understanding the conspiracy theory ecosystem of Alex Jones and Infowars.
While we recognise the best in skepticism, our awards are also an opportunity to highlight the danger posed by promoters of pseudoscience with our Rusty Razor award. The Rusty Razor is designed to spotlight individuals or organisations who have been prominent promoters of unscientific ideas within the last year.
Last year’s Rusty Razor went to Dr Aseem Malhotra, a cardiologist who advocates against the use of statins, promotes a fad diet he claimed could prevent 20 million deaths per year from cardiovascular disease, and has been a prolific and highly influential voice scaremongering about the alleged dangers of the COVID-19 vaccine.
Previous Rusty Razor winners have included the Global Warming Policy Foundation for their promotion of climate change denialism, Dr Mike Yeadon for his anti-vaccination scaremongering, Dr Didier Raoult for his promotion of hydroxychloroquine as a treatment for COVID-19, Andrew Wakefield for his ongoing promotion of anti-vaxx misinformation, and Gwyneth Paltrow for her pseudoscience-peddling wellness empire, Goop.
One of the most important elements of our awards are that the nominations come from you – the skeptical community. It is that time again, we ask you to tell us who you think deserves to receive the Skeptic of the Year award, and who deserves to receive the Rusty Razor.
I’m in pain. I’m always in pain. Listeners my podcast, Skeptics with a K, will know that. I feel it in lots of different parts of my body. A dull ache in the front of my ribs and my lower back. Something sharper around the back of my neck and into my upper back. My ankles hurt when I walk. My hips, shoulders, even one of my fingers at the time of writing.
My thighs and knees don’t hurt right now, but they feel weird. I think most people would describe it as pain but I have a weird pain threshold that doesn’t always register painful stimuli.
I know the cause of it. I have a health condition that causes chronic pain and acute injuries. But I also work full time. Sitting in an office chair for hours at a time is good for no one. It’s especially bad for me.
I have plenty of modifications to help. I use an ergonomic office chair at home – padded with memory foam and with a heating element I can turn on when needed. I use a sit-stand desk riser so I can stand up when sitting hurts too much. I have an external screen and a laptop riser to bring up my laptop screen – it’s portable so I can use it from my work office as well. I have an ergonomic keyboard and a trackerball mouse.
I remind myself to walk around every 50 minutes or so. Even if it’s just to the kitchen and back to make a cup of coffee. I try not to slouch. I sit back in my chair so I have back support. When I worked in a lab, I cleared out a space under my bench so I could sit with my knees straight instead of skewed to one side. I go for a walk as many days as possible.
It all takes a lot of conscious thought. It also takes a lot of self-advocacy – to insist on a break in longer meetings so I can walk around, or to explain why I can’t just “take the stairs” to that meeting, because my version of “healthy” is different to yours.
It also takes a lot of unconscious thought – thought I forget to explain, so when I refuse to embark on that walk up the stairs in order to go to the bar, and instead give someone else my money to go get my round, people forget that that is an access thing. Or when I leave things piled up at the bottom of the stairs waiting for the next I need to go up, instead of nipping them up now. Or when I don’t put away the clean dishes that live in bottom drawers, because bending can be hard. Sometimes, assumptions are made.
Similarly, there are unconscious habits that aren’t so good for me. As an autistic person, I stim. As an autistic person with poor proprioception and bad joints, sometimes my stims cause my pain. My ankles are bad right now because I go through phases of twisting and turning them to create a particular sensation. Without realising. Until it hurts to walk.
Like many people with chronic pain and mobility issues, I am extremely aware of how I use my body. And how easy it is to use it in a way that causes pain. Which can be useful for others – when a friend writing a thesis complained their back was hurting, I could point out to them that using a laptop might be the culprit, and they found that stacking their laptop on some books solved the issue.
It also means that I frequently come across a particular treatment that is offered to people with conditions like mine: the Alexander Technique.
The Alexander Technique was invented by F Matthias Alexander, an actor from Australia who lived from 1869 to 1955. He developed the process when recurrent laryngitis was affecting his voice.
The Alexander Technique is a training method that supports patients in being aware of the way they use and hold their body. From that perspective, it can be valuable. My proprioception – that is the sense of where my body is in space – isn’t great. That’s common both for people with my joint condition and for autistic people. It means I walk into things quite a bit. I’m constantly covered in scuffs and bruises from some innocuous interaction with a door frame or banister. But it also means I can be prone to overextending a joint without realising it. Taking a moment to recognise how I’m sitting or standing is an important part of managing my condition.
There is some evidence that postural and proprioception training can help manage pain in certain conditions – particularly low back pain. It might also be part of the reason some people find benefit in yoga or pilates exercises. We also know physiotherapy helps with some pain conditions – not least because stretching out tension or building strength in weaker muscles can be very beneficial. Any exercise that helps us move our muscles a little more consciously can be helpful for that.
There is some evidence that the Alexander Technique might help with the motor effects of Parkinson’s disease for some patients. But there’s evidence that exercise in general can help with Parkinson’s disease, so using the Alexander Technique as a guided exercise method makes sense if that’s the thing that helps patients maintain an exercise regimen.
However, that is not the full extent of claims made by some Alexander Technique practitioners. Some make claims around breathing. It’s easy to see why, given Alexander himself was struggling with his voice and projection when he developed the technique – it’s why he came up with the idea to change how he held his head and neck.
But chronic laryngitis – inflammation of the voice box – is a condition that can actually be helped by changes in behaviour. If you’re distressed enough to invent an entirely new therapy, maybe you’re also trying other things which might cause changes in the inflammation of the voicebox. Maybe you stop acting for a while, to focus on developing your new technique… and therefore you rest your voice and allow the inflammation to come down a little. Maybe you stop smoking, or spend more time outdoors away from the dusts which might be irritating the voice box. Maybe the posture changes help manage the acid reflux you didn’t realise was exacerbating things.
Despite the possible other reasons for Alexander’s apparent recover, many practitioners today still attribute it to the Alexander Technique, and believe it can help with breathing. One practitioner writes:
“Next time you have a cold you too can breathe freely through your nose as normal. All you have to do is to stop sniffing and uselessly blowing your nose to get rid of the blockage! Don’t open your mouth either. Just ignore the feeling that you’re in dire danger of asphyxiation! Can you do that? I doubt it, but if you do, you will find that you are breathing freely through what was a completely blocked nose. Even if you do succeed for a time, I guarantee that the blockage will be back again shortly after. You see, it is no easy matter to disregard that feeling of asphyxiation. The fact that that feeling is utterly mistaken makes no odds.”
The issue, here, is this is an excerpt from an article about treating asthma. He begins the article:
“Asthma is essentially a breathing problem. No, I lie: asthma is not a breathing problem. Asthma is one’s own inappropriate reaction to feeling unable to breathe.”
This isn’t true. Or at the very least it’s a complete misinterpretation. Asthma is a chronic inflammatory condition which causes difficulty breathing. One characteristic part of it is that the muscles of the lungs react inappropriately to some stimuli. Since Alexander Technique aims to relax certain muscles, you can see how someone might think that it’s an inappropriate reaction that a person can control. But we know that key to the asthma response is smooth muscle. You cannot physically control your smooth muscle. Smooth muscles are those that make up the walls of organs like the stomach and bladder and also the walls of your blood vessels. You can’t consciously relax these muscles. You have no voluntary control over them.
It is true that when you’re struggling to breathe during an asthma attack, panic can exacerbate the symptoms and therefore advice is to try to keep calm. But that advice is for while you are taking your inhaler medication and if there is no improvement – calling for emergency support (in the UK, by calling 999 for an ambulance).
A Cochrane review found no good evidence supporting the use of Alexander Technique for asthma.
Ultimately I think the Alexander Technique is no different to any other exercise program that supports an awareness of your own body in space. The big difference is that it’s much more expensive – classes can cos £35-50 for an hour session. Whereas a yoga or pilates class can be much cheaper, and physiotherapy is available freely on the NHS.
The prices are more comparable to private physiotherapy… but for something that is not grounded in any medical basis. It was just invented one day, by some guy who looked in a mirror at his own body, and then taught some other people to do the same.
I don’t necessarily think the Alexander Technique is a complete waste of time for some people, in some very specific circumstances. But then again, I don’t think it has any real value, either – certainly not more so than many other forms of exercise, forms that don’t also then inappropriately claim to treat or cure serious conditions.
When I was younger, my Asian grandmother used to tell me that bigger busts signify youth and fertility, which men in today’s society select for. If we don’t have them, then it is as if we are deemed less worthy, desirable and attractive in this world.
The global market for breast implants was valued at a staggering $1.8 billion in 2021, and this figure is projected to skyrocket to $4.5 billion by 2031 (Allied Market Research, 2022). As women worldwide invest significant sums in enhancing their bust, it begs the question: to what extent have societal expectations moulded unrealistic beauty standards, especially concerning women’s breasts?
The pursuit of an idealised feminine figure has led many women to seek breast augmentation. However, the psychological impact of feeling inadequate about our body image and femininity is profound, impacting our self-esteem, body confidence, and overall mental wellbeing. This emphasises the complex interplay between cultural norms, societal pressures, and individual perceptions of beauty, raising important questions about the broader implications of conforming to today’s ever changing societal beauty standards.
The Papaya and Milk Concoction
Contrary to the prevalence of breast augmentation surgeries in other parts of the world, Asia takes a unique approach. Over here, the search for larger busts is not commonly met with surgical procedures. Instead, it is intertwined with age-old remedies and cultural practices. In the realm of beauty myths and wellness fads, especially in Asia, there is a persistent myth that seems to resurface time and time again – consuming papaya and milk can significantly enhance our bust size.
Rooted in cultural traditions and traditional medicine systems such as Ayurveda and Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM), this belief reflects a broader cultural preference for natural and holistic approaches to health and beauty. Papaya and milk, being readily available and nutritious ingredients, are often associated with promoting overall health and vitality, and are believed to indirectly contribute to hormonal balance and nourishment (Sharma, 2023), which could potentially enhance our bust size.
Moreover, within Asian societies, there exists a cultural ideal of feminine beauty that emphasises natural attributes, and the belief in the effectiveness of papaya and milk aligns with this preference for non-invasive methods of physical enhancement.
Sarah, a dear friend of mine, relates her experience to me over dinner. Sarah identifies as transgender, and in her journey to feel more like a ‘woman’, she brews and drinks papaya and milk every morning and night like a ritual, in hopes to enhance her bust size and shape.
“I first heard about the benefits of having papaya and milk from friends who are in the LGBTQIA+ community here in Singapore. And in fact, the myth is so popular that friends who are in a similar situation as me are also brewing and drinking this every day and night.” Sarah said. “I identify as transgender after all, and I did it all because I wanted to look and feel more like a ‘woman’, that is, with a bigger and fuller bust.”
I asked Sarah how she has been taking this concoction, and whether she has seen any changes to her body. “I have been doing it since I started transitioning, so about 4 years now. It didn’t work, even though I was spending so much money, time and effort purchasing and brewing the ingredients every day and night. It came to a point where I broke down so badly because I still had not seen any results despite the effort and time spent on doing so.” Sarah said. “I went into depression, and even went to the extent of questioning my own body and attributing the lack of my bust growth to my own flaws. I really hated myself for not being able to grow my bust.”
What shocked me was the fact that she blamed herself for not being able to grow her bust, instead of attributing the failure of her bust growth to the fact that papaya and milk might just not enhance her bust at all. I asked her whether the failure might be in the treatment, not the patient. “I actually did not look at this from that perspective at all…”
The dinner I had with Sarah made me realise that self-love and acceptance are paramount, especially in a world where societal expectations can be suffocating. I learned about the immense pressure Sarah felt to conform to traditional notions of femininity, which often prioritise physical attributes over individual identity and self-expression.
At first glance, the idea of papaya and milk as a bust enhancer seems rooted in ancient wisdom, perhaps reminiscent of Asian herbal remedies passed down through generations. However, skepticism demands scrutiny, and when we examine through a scientific lens, the claim quickly loses its allure.
Lack of scientific evidence
Proponents of the papaya and milk theory often highlight the presence of certain compounds in these ingredients, suggesting they play a role in stimulating breast tissue growth. Phytoestrogens, naturally occurring plant compounds with oestrogen-like effects (Chaudhary, 2023), are frequently cited as key components. Papaya is believed to contain phytoestrogens, which some claim can mimic the activity of oestrogen in the body and thereby promote breast enlargement (Chaudhary, 2023). Additionally, milk is rich in proteins and other nutrients essential for tissue repair and growth, leading some to believe that consuming milk can lead to noticeable bust enhancement (Whelan, 2020).
In reality, the science behind bust size primarily revolves around genetics, hormonal balance, and overall body composition (Flanagan, 2020). While phytoestrogens may indeed interact with oestrogen receptors in the body (Burgess, 2018), the effect on breast size remains inconclusive and the interaction is unlikely to produce significant changes, especially when phytoestrogens are consumed in relatively small quantities.
Similarly, while milk contains essential nutrients for tissue growth, there is no scientific evidence to support the idea that drinking milk alone can lead to noticeable bust enhancement (Macpherson, 2023). Bust size and shape are primarily determined by factors such as the amount of fibrous tissue and fats present, which are influenced by genetics and hormonal fluctuations (American Cancer Society, 2023). Dietary intake alone is unlikely to have a substantial impact on these factors.
While papaya and milk may contain certain compounds that help to enhance the bust size and shape, the scientific evidence supporting these claims is lacking. Bust size and shape are complex traits influenced by multiple factors, and relying solely on dietary interventions like consuming papaya and milk is unlikely to produce significant changes.
Health and Ethical Issues
Beyond the lack of scientific evidence, the promotion of such myths like papaya and milk as a bust enhancer raises ethical concerns. Promoting unrealistic beauty standards through unfounded myths perpetuates body image dissatisfaction. People like Sarah who believe in such myths may develop unrealistic expectations regarding their own bodies, leading to feelings of inadequacy, low self-esteem, and even the development of body dysmorphic disorder.
The constant pursuit of unrealistic beauty ideals can also have significant psychological consequences on us, such as anxiety, depression and disordered eating behaviours. Furthermore, individuals believing in such myths that promise dramatic transformations can exacerbate these mental health issues, causing a cycle of dissatisfaction and despair about oneself that would never end.
However, we should not overlook the root cause of the issue as well. In many societies, there exists a strong emphasis on physical appearance, particularly concerning aspects of femininity such as bust shape and size. The media and advertising often promote unrealistic beauty standards that equate larger bust size with attractiveness, femininity and desirability – which was exactly what my Asian grandmother used to always say.
This is further testified by Sarah: “I think society has already determined how a ‘woman’ should look to be seen and recognised as a ‘woman’ – bigger bust, curvy body and wider hips… and because of all these expectations placed on us women, I feel compelled to live up to that expectation. I just wanted society to recognise and accept me as a ‘woman’.”
I asked if Sarah was still taking the papaya and milk, even though it hasn’t produced any results yet.
“Yeah, I’m still having them twice a day. I am still holding onto the faith that the concoction will work, and I am going to choose to believe that my body just needs more time to grow.” Sarah told me.
Sarah’s experience shed light on the pervasive influence of societal beauty standards, not only on cisgender women but also on transgender individuals like herself. The relentless pursuit of an idealised feminine figure, perpetuated by media, culture, and social norms, made her feel inadequate and doubtful about herself.
Her persistence to continue the papaya and milk regimen highlights the deeply ingrained societal pressures and the psychological toll they can take on individuals striving to conform to the unrealistic beauty standards.
The importance of self-love and acceptance
I asked Sarah if she was happy with who she is today. “The honest truth, no. I don’t feel good enough about myself. I often catch weird glances at me while walking along the streets, and it feels as if I have done something wrong.” Sarah said. “I wished I had the confidence and courage to accept who I am wholeheartedly.”
It is essential to explore alternative ways that prioritise self-love, acceptance, and holistic well-being. Rather than relying on external remedies or conforming to societal expectations, embracing individual authenticity and celebrating diverse forms of beauty can lead to a more fulfilling and empowered sense of self.
Self-love and acceptance transcend physical appearance and encompass a deeper appreciation for one’s unique qualities, strengths, and experiences. It involves cultivating a positive relationship with ourselves, free from judgement, comparison, and unrealistic standards. While societal pressures may tempt people like Sarah to seek validation through external means, true fulfilment comes from within, rooted in self-awareness, compassion, and inner peace.
Embracing self-love and acceptance requires a shift in your mindset and values. It involves challenging the influence of media, culture, and social norms that perpetuate unrealistic beauty standards. By rejecting narrow definitions of femininity and beauty, we can reclaim autonomy and redefine success on our own terms.
Furthermore, fostering self-love and acceptance within ourselves is not a solitary journey but a collective endeavour. It involves creating supportive communities and spaces where individuals feel safe to express themselves authentically, free from judgement or prejudice. By building networks of solidarity and mutual respect, we can collectively challenge oppressive beauty standards and advocate for inclusivity, diversity, and equity.
While myths and/or health misinformation like the papaya and milk concoction may persist, the real magic lies in cultivating self-love, acceptance, and holistic well-being. By looking inward and embracing our authentic selves, we can set ourselves free from the unrealistic beauty standards, live fully and unapologetically as we are.
The expression “p-hacking” is relatively new to the science lexicon, but has caught on quickly. It is a label for various manipulations of data or analysis to achieve statistical significance when statistical significance was not truly earned. The term p-hacking ingeniously expresses the essence of these activities and provides a convenient shorthand for the growing discourse on the subject.
Producing novel, impactful research is how investigators get published, funded and promoted. It is also how medical entrepreneurs gather evidence and gain regulatory approval for their products. For better or worse, one of the factors that makes research more impactful is attaining findings that are “statistically significant.”
Statistical significance is considered a proxy for scientific validity or, in medicine, clinical significance. Studies with statistically significant results are more likely to published. When conducting research for regulatory approval (such as for the Food and Drug Administration), achieving statistically significant results can be essential for success.
The yardstick on which statistical significance is measured is known as a “p-value.” P-values has a very specific meaning:
The P value is defined as the probability under the assumption of no effect or no difference (null hypothesis), of obtaining a result equal to or more extreme than what was actually observed.
The pressure to create statistically significant research motivates some investigators to engage in p-hacking. They gently “massage” their data or tweak their analyses to transform a statistically insignificant result into a statistically significant one. These practices violate sound statistical principles, increase false positive results, and exaggerate real positive results.
P-hacking techniques may be employed naively by well-meaning investigators who believe they are polishing and presenting data in the best light. The motives may be innocent, but the consequence is the proliferation of false and exaggerated conclusions.
To understand p-hacking one needs a basic understanding of the null hypothesis, statistical testing, and p-values.
The null hypothesis
Medical research often looks for differences between variables or changes in variables over time. Do smokers have a greater risk of lung cancer than nonsmokers? Do diabetics treated with Drug A have lower blood sugars than those treated with Drug B? Do children raised in Springfield have higher IQs than children raised in Shelbyville?
Under most circumstances the statistical tests exploring these differences compare the measured results to a hypothetical assumption that there is no difference between the variables of interest. This assumption of no difference is known as “the null hypothesis.” The objective of research is then to collect data and run appropriate statistical analysis. If the results demonstrate a persuasive deviation from the null hypothesis the difference is declared to be “statistically significant.” If the measured difference between the test scores of Springfield and Shelbyville students is unlikely to occur under the null assumption, the difference is declared statistically significant.
Statistical testing and p-values
What differences are “persuasive enough” to reject the null hypothesis? This question is the essence of statistical testing. If we set the bar for persuasiveness too low, we risk rejecting the null hypothesis too easily, resulting in unjustified conclusions. We might incorrectly conclude that Springfield High students are smarter than Shelbyville students, when they are truly the same. This is known as a false positive (or Type 1) statistical error. If we set the bar for persuasiveness exceedingly high, we make it difficult to reject the null hypothesis even when real differences exist (a false negative, or Type II error).
P-values are expressed as decimals on a scale from 0 to 1. The p-value is the likelihood that a particular or a more extreme result would be obtained IF the null hypothesis is true. The smaller the p-value, the greater the inconsistency with the null hypothesis. Let’s pretend we run an experiment and measure slightly higher IQ for Springfield High students compared to Shebyville High. We run an appropriate statistical test and find a p-value of 0.45. This means that IF students in Springfield and Shelbyville have equal IQs, we would expect to find this particular result or a more extreme difference 45% of the time. For most purposes this would be insufficient evidence for rejecting the null hypothesis and we would not be confident declaring students in Springfield smarter than those in Shelbyville.
There are many reasons that a study might fail to reject the null hypothesis. It could be the null hypothesis is true, but it could also be a poorly designed study, or insufficient sample size, or a very small but real difference, or just bad luck. The p-value does NOT tell you how likely it is that the null hypothesis is really false or that the alternative hypothesis is really true. In most cases, it means there is insufficient information to make a reliable calculation of those propositions.
It is worth mentioning that failing to obtain a p-value low enough to reject the null hypothesis does not allow us to conclude that the null hypothesis is true. In other words, despite a high p-value, Springfield seniors might actually be smarter than their Shelbyville counterparts, but for whatever reason our experiment did not confirm this.
Before performing an experiment, researchers are obligated to define a threshold p-value. If the results of the experiment yields results that differ sufficiently from the null hypothesis to generate a p-value at or below the preselected threshold, the null hypothesis is “rejected” and the deviation from the null is declared statistically significant.
The p≤.05 standard
The selection of a threshold p-value is based on a variety of philosophical and practical considerations. Philosophically, we want to avoid false positive results – but there is a tradeoff. A very stringent threshold p-value decreases the chances of false positive findings, but effectively raises the hurdle to validate a truly positive finding. In other words, it also decreases true positive results and increases false negative results.
This can be overcome by designing larger, more powerful studies. Unfortunately, there are practical limitations to the funding and other resources for biomedical research, so larger studies are not always possible or practical. For better or for worse, a threshold p-value of .05 has become the de-facto standard for much of medical research. The consequence of a threshold p-value of .05 is that in situations where the null hypothesis is true, the research will erroneously reject the null hypothesis in 5% (1 in 20) of studies.
A dicey metaphor
Let us explore the implications of a threshold p-value of .05. P-values can range from 0 to 1. we can divide this range into 20 increments like this:
Let’s then assign the upper limit of each of these increments to one side of a 20-sided die, like this one.
A 20-sided die, modified to show incremental p-values on each face (source: author’s own)
If we are comparing 2 groups that are, in fact, equal (the null hypothesis is true), utilising a threshold p-value of .05, every study is like a roll of that 20-sided die. One out of every 20 rolls of the die will land on the ≤.05 side. We will reject the null hypothesis and erroneously declare the two groups to be different.
Flexible sample size
When doing research, it is traditional to pre-specify the sample size (number of patients, specimens, test runs) for the study. Under ideal settings, this would be done based on existing clues about the behaviour of the groups being compared, and through the use of power calculations to ensure that the planned study has a reasonable chance of finding a real positive, if one exists. Often sample sizes are based on more practical considerations, such as the number of subjects available for study, funding, and other such limitations.
The p-hacker’s way to do it is to enrol a few patients, analyse the results, enrol a few more and repeat the analysis. This cycle is repeated until a statistically significant result is achieved. Then enrolment is halted. At first glance this seems like a very efficient way to do a study. Only the minimum number of patients needed to achieve statistical significance are needed.
Here’s the problem: if you want to minimise false positives, you have to roll die and accept the final lie. During the course of the roll, the die will inevitably roll over multiple sides before it ultimately comes to rest. By repeated enrolling and re-analysing, it is as if we take intermittent snapshots of the die in motion. If they happen to catch the die with the <.05 side face up, the die is stopped mid-roll, and victory is declared. In order to avoid excess false positives you have to set the parameters in advance and accept the outcome of the roll.
Slicing and dicing (also known as multiple comparisons and data dredging)
I can think of no better example of so-called data dredging than this gem from Randall Monroe’s xkcd cartoon. In his Great Jelly Bean study, authors report the shocking result that green jelly beans are linked to acne, complete with a statistically significant p-value. What they failed to disclose in their press release is that they ran analyses on 20 colours of jelly beans and obtained a “significant” p-value once.
If one has a large enough database, and runs enough analyses, one is almost certain to stumble on a relationship that is statistically significant. It is just a matter of numbers. Rolling the 20-sided die over and over is bound to produce “statistically significant’ results by chance alone. There are legitimate ways to test multiple hypotheses, but they require more stringent p-values to declare statistical significance. Had the jelly bean authors disclosed the multitude of analyses they performed, their results would have earned a yawn, not a headline.
This is closely related to the practice known as HARKing (hypothesising after results are known). In HARKing, investigators look at the data, run multiple analyses until they find something interesting (and probably statistically significant), then pretend that the results they found were what they had been looking for in the first place. If the Jelly Bean Study authors constructed a rationale that green jelly beans were uniquely suspected to cause acne, and reported their results as a confirmation of this hypothesis they would be guilty of HARKing.
Other researcher degrees of freedom
Researchers make many decisions when they perform a study. What kind of patients? What age range? How many? How long they will be followed? What parameters will be measured? At what points in time? If some patients miss exams or doses of medicine, how that be handled during data analysis? What statistical tests will be used? And on, and on. Collectively these are called researcher degrees of freedom. Ideally, these parameters will be defined before the study is begun. There can be a temptation to play with these parameters post hoc to create statistically significant outcomes.
An amusing but cautionary paper demonstrated that motivated manipulation of researcher degrees of freedom can dramatically alter research conclusions to such a degree that even absurd conclusions can be “proven” with statistical significance. In their example, they p-hacked data to prove that listening to certain music decreased the subjects age. These investigators also deserve credit for coining the term “p-hacking.”
P-hacking in action
Let’s say I run a startup company and have a promising vaccine to protect those bitten by the living dead from being transformed to zombies. I design a clinical trial comparing Zombivax vs placebo. The results of this study will determine the success or demise of my company. In the case of our study, the null hypothesis is that Zombivax and placebo are equally effective (or ineffective) in preventing zombie transformation. If our study shows Zombivax results superior to placebo with a P≤.05 we can then reject the null hypothesis and declare Zombivax effective. At the end of the study 43% of the Zombivax group became zombies compared to 68% of the Placebo group. How confident can I be that the difference between the treatments is real?
We analyse our results and achieve a p-value of 0.09. This means that IF Zombivax and placebo are equal (the null hypothesis) and we were able to run our clinical trial over and over again, we could expect, by chance alone, our results (43% for Zombivaz vs 68% for placebo) or a more extreme result 9% of the time. This result does not meet the prespecified threshold of P≤.05, so we would not be able to declare the effectiveness of Zombivax.
As CEO of the company, I am very disappointed that the clinical trial did not achieve statistical significance. I instruct my statisticians to go back and review the study design and analysis to see if any details were done improperly. They notice that some of the subjects in the Zomivax group missed one of 3 doses of the vaccine. If they omit those subjects from the analysis, the Zombivax group does a little better, now achieving a p-value of .07.
Next, they detect that the vaccine doesn’t seem to work as well in older subjects. If they limit the analysis to subjects 65 or younger, the results look much better, yielding a p-value of .04! As CEO I give my statisticians a bonus and issue a press-release declaring Zombivax a medical breakthrough.
What is wrong with exploring changes in the data and analyses to optimise the results? Once the data are known, there are many ways things can be adjusted and manipulated that will change the p-value. If one is so motivated it is possible to explore alternatives, accept those that move the results in a desirable direction and reject those that do not. This enables investigators to transform negative or borderline results into positive ones. This is the essence of p-hacking.
Using the 20-sided die as a metaphor, the clinical trial of Zombivax rolled the die. Unfortunately for our company, the die did not land on the ≤.05 side. It landed on the adjacent side for p-values between .05 and .10. What I instructed my statisticians to do is to kick, nudge, and tilt the table until the die rolls over to the desired result. If the die rolls in the wrong direction, they can just reset the die to the original roll and try something else. With enough motivation and creativity, it is likely that they can get the die to fall on the desired side and declare statistical significance.
If Zombivax was truly worthless, our clinical trial and subsequent p-hacking would be an example of a pure false positive result. If Zombivax was slightly effective, our p-hacking would be an example of “truth inflation,” transforming a small, statistically insignificant result into a larger, statistically significant one.
Conclusion: The significance of promoting the insignificant
The extent to which p-hacking can manufacture false positive results or exaggerate otherwise insignificant results is limited only by the p-hacker’s imagination and persistence. The results of p-hacking are much more consequential than simply padding an investigator’s resume or accelerating an academic promotion. Research resources are limited. There is not enough funding, laboratory space, investigator time, or patients to participate in clinical trials to investigate every hypothesis. P-hacked data leads to the misappropriation of resources to follow leads that appear promising, but ultimately cannot be replicated by investigators doing responsible research and appropriate analysis.
Provocative, p-hacked data can be the “shiny thing” that gets undeserved attention from the marketing teams, the press, and Wall Street. In medicine, compelling but dubiously-obtained results may be prematurely accepted into clinical practice. And within the CAM world, charlatans may can use sloppy research to promote worthless and irrational treatments.
There is no clear solution to solve the problem of p-hacking. Better education of investigators could reduce some of the more innocent instances. Greater transparency in reporting research results would disclose potential p-hacking. Deviations from planned data gathering and analysis plans should be disclosed and justified. For clinical trials, registries such as clinicaltrials.gov are intended to provide transparency in the conduct and reporting of clinical trials. Investigators are expected to “register” their studies in advance, including critical features of study design and data analysis. If used as intended, deviations from the registered and reported study details would be evident, and a red-flag for potential p-hacking.
Greater understanding of p-hacking among investigators, journals, peer-reviewers, and consumers of scientific literature will promote more responsible research methodologies and analyses.
On March 11th, I participated in the Roda Viva program on TV Cultura, as a member of the panel invited to interview physicist Marcelo Gleiser, on account of the launch of the book “O Despertar do Universo Consciente”. The program can be watched in full online (note, it is in Portuguese). I will share my impressions and considerations about the book and the interview, since the format of the program is not suitable for a direct debate between interviewers and interviewees.
The book’s goal is to provoke a change in worldview in order to recover a “sacred” feeling for the biosphere, so that it can be preserved. One of the first problems that jumps out at us, however, is that history shows, since the beginning of Homo sapiens, that there is no possible consensus on what is “sacred”: people are crucified, women are burned and buildings are destroyed with airplanes, all in service to sacred ideas.
Even though the author does not want to give a religious or confessional meaning to the term “sacred”, using it to refer to a “secular sacredness”, the proposal seems, at the very least, naïve. It is like saying that to end wars all people need to do is love each other – it may be nice, but it is completely disconnected from reality.
Associating the veneration of the sacred with something necessarily good is not only a fallacy – just see that people are capable of identifying absurd passages in the Bible, showing that the sense of sacredness is socially constructed, and not imposed by a supernatural authority or the fruit of a superior feeling or intuition – but religious fervour is normally linked to something bad: when attachment to the “sacred” is placed above all else, buildings are knocked down by airplanes.
This does not mean that we should abandon responsible behaviour regarding food consumption, waste production, and respect for the environment, but society should be convinced through well-founded public policies supported by objective data – this is where scientists can act in a very positive way. Public policy cannot be made based on good feelings (“good” in what frame of reference?) or personal impressions.
In addition to being unnecessary, the introduction of the sacred for the salvation of the planet does not follow from the factual exposition made by Gleiser in the first part of the book. The scientific facts presented there are correct, but the general conclusion of the work does not follow from this first part – accepting the statement that the beauty of scientific discoveries is enough to support the sentimental manifesto that comes later will be a gesture of eventual goodwill on the part of the reader, not a logical conclusion constructed by the force of facts and arguments. The conclusion and the central thesis do not derive from the premises – “The Awakening of the Conscious Universe” is a sophisticated non sequitur : the scientific validity of the factual part does not pass, by osmosis, to the rest of the book.
The practice of using correct premises to create the impression that questionable speculations are well-founded is something that is commonly seen in pseudoscientific texts. The texts begin with something sophisticated, citing philosophers and scientists. The reader does not fully understand what the author wrote, but is left with the feeling that it is his own fault for not knowing complex concepts. Once dressed in scientific garb, the path is clear to say anything at all. This does not exactly apply to Gleiser’s book, but throughout his career the author has not stopped instigating an intersection between science and spirituality, which resulted in him winning the Templeton Prize.
Climatologist Michael Mann accuses Big Oil of pushing the responsibility for stopping global warming onto individuals and their “personal carbon footprints” while they continue to extract oil from the planet. This shift in focus is essentially what Gleiser’s book proposes: let’s foster good feelings among the people, and then the big structural problems that threaten the biosphere will go away on their own. In Mann’s words,
“If people start to think that stopping flying and eating meat is a more efficient way to combat climate change than pressuring governments to limit CO2 emissions from important sectors of the economy and invest in clean energy sources, that’s the shift strategy at work.”
It certainly won’t hurt to read “The Awakening of the Conscious Universe” in Tuscany, “drinking Brunello and eating wonderful prosciuttos“, but the manifesto is more like a magic solution, à la hippies trying to levitate the Pentagon to stop the Vietnam War, than a real proposal to be taken seriously.
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