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Studying the genetics of mediumship is the new Tooth Fairy science

On February 18, Folha de S.Paulo (FSP) published an article with the title “Mediums have genetic alterations, shows study coordinated by USP”. The text outlines a study published in the Brazilian Journal of Psychiatry that identified genes supposedly linked to the “gift of mediumship”, according to a statement made by one of the researchers to the FSP journalist.

The protocol adopted seems, at first glance, quite reasonable: a few dozen people who are considered – by their social groups at least – to be “mediums” were selected, and their DNA was compared to that of close relatives in the hope of finding genetic variations that were common to the mediums but absent in the relatives. Those variations, after an extra round of “validation” (in which the genes of the mediums tested against the relatives were compared to those of a second group of mediums), can then be presented by the study as candidates for a supposed genetic basis of “mediumship”.

This apparent reasonableness, however, hides a series of highly problematic implicit assumptions. The selection of participants for the experiment could have been based on a purely objective criterion, instead of resorting to a selection based on personal beliefs and social validation.

Typically, social recognition of someone as a medium, and the perception that their extraordinary communications are accurate, depends on vague, subjective claims. Psychological phenomena that produce the illusion of exceptional or supernatural access to facts and knowledge, such as cold readingsubjective validationcryptomnesia, and the Forer Effect, are well known and documented in the scientific literature – but the possibility that they are responsible for the participants’ apparent “mediumship” was ignored by the study’s authors.

Any phenomenon that interacts with nature, even if it is not fully understood, can be tested. To date, no good controlled experiment has shown that any human being has extrasensory perception or access to the consciousness of dead people. In the case of this study, participants were selected based on a criterion that in no way proves or offers evidence of any extraordinary powers or abilities they might have.

There was no need, therefore, to dedicate half of a journalistic text to taking the reader through a paranormal narrative. It would be more appropriate to approach the subject as a manifestation of religious and cultural beliefs, or as a result of psychological factors – which, of course, offer simpler and more well-founded explanations than any genetic cause. Pluralitas non est ponenda sine neccesitate (plurality should not be posited without necessity) – a principle known as “Ockham’s Razor”, which states that, broadly speaking, if there are several hypotheses that can explain the same phenomenon, it is more likely that the simplest one is correct.

It should be part of the journalistic repertoire not to report highly speculative and incipient research. At the very least, a well-trained journalist should be able to distinguish between legitimate areas of ​​research, in which pilot studies (less rigorous work, conducted to capture the first signs of a possible phenomenon) are followed by rigorous confirmatory studies, and fields that merely produce an abundance of pilot studies with no rigorous follow up. These latter fields often rely on this plethora of uncontrolled pilot studies to generate headlines and keep the funding taps open.

The coverage in FSP even cites Aldous Huxley, by way of suggesting that mediums may have a less restrictive filter of reality – this is essentially Tooth Fairy science; studying the characteristics and details of a phenomenon before ever actually establishing whether it exists.

A light-skinned child holds out their hands, cupping a small pile of copper (1 pence/2 pence) coins. They're wearing a grey jumper and trousers, their face isn't visible.
What’s the going Tooth Fairy rate these days? Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

One could measure the amount of money the Tooth Fairy left under your pillow, analyse whether the payout is higher for the first or last tooth, or compare whether the reward is higher for a tooth wrapped in plastic or in tissue paper. You could even collect data from several children to get a reasonable statistic about the fairy’s behaviour and personal preferences. None of that data would alter the crucial fact that the Tooth Fairy doesn’t exist – and there’s a much more plausible explanation for your experimental results.

In the case of this mediumship study, the plausible explanation is that the genetic variations found do not differ considerably from what would be expected in random mutations that arise when comparing genomes of close relatives. Inferring a cause-and-effect relationship from this is a gigantic leap, even more so when the “effect” is a social phenomenon. It makes as much sense as comparing the genomes of two brothers, one a fan of one football team, his brother a fan of their rival, and attributing the difference in teams to their genetic variations.

To complicate matters further, close family members share a significant portion of their genetic material, and by analysing genomes (in the specific case of this study, exomes, which are an important part of the genome) as if they were independent, there is a risk of misinterpreting normal genetic variations within the family as significant (the authors thank Dr Luiz Gustavo de Almeida for explanations on genetics).

Although the authors state, in the article in the Brazilian Journal of Psychiatry, that there is no conflict of interest, it is possible to find a postgraduate course in Integration of Spirituality in Clinical Practice where one of the researchers appears as the main figure in the course’s marketing – whose registration and classes, with a discount, total R$11,530 (£1,500).

It is also worth highlighting the growing journalistic interest in spirituality. One day after the publication of the article on mediumship – even before the final version was available in the newspaper – the same FSP published an article praising one of the authors, in which we read: “there is already sufficient scientific data to affirm the presence of spiritual experiences in the world”. Quo vadis, journalism?

The Skeptic Podcast: Episode #015

The Skeptic podcast, bringing you the best of the magazine’s expert analysis of pseudoscience, conspiracy theory and claims of the paranormal since its relaunch as online news source in September 2020. 

On this episode:

Subscribe to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or to support the show, take out a small voluntary donation at patreon.com/theskeptic.

Old Money, Quiet Luxury: fashion trends as soft-power for conservatism

I was looking on social media for videos about sustainable fashion and content discussing how to avoid cheaply made garments with short lifespans, and the value of opting instead for classic pieces that endure beyond trend cycles. I was then quickly funnelled towards videos of women telling me how to dress modestly and classically, emulating the look of classic, Gatsby-esque ‘old money’. I’m not ashamed to admit I let them draw me in a bit. Very attractive people strolling around European cities in well-fitting, muted shades has a real aspirational charm.

It got me thinking about changes I’ve made to my own wardrobe. I noticed that I’ve been favouring more neutral colours and thinking about my clothes in terms of timelessness. I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d been a victim of the same value system without realising, perhaps subtly guided by the same predatory algorithm into believing that what my summer wardrobe really needed was a smart shirt, implying it’s somehow inherently better than, say, a T-shirt.

An angled top-down shot of a man crossing the road on a striped crosswalk. He has a dark jacket over his shoulders that seems to blow in the breeze. His shadow stretches in front of him as he walks, left hand in his pocket. He's wearing light trousers with dark, expensive-looking shoes and shirt.
Chic, European fashion, by gershoots, via Pixabay

The Old Money trend has had a considerably longer life cycle than other styles precisely because it feels aspirational in a time of economic uncertainty. In such periods, minimalism feels safer, less risky. Experimentation with personal style becomes less common as people try to present the most palatable version of themselves to avoid social or professional rejection.

The old money aesthetic draws on the style associated with generational wealth, reflecting an understated, elite look. Typical features include tailored garments such as blazers, trousers, and trench coats; neutral, classic colour palettes like navy, black, beige, and grey; luxury fabrics like cashmere, wool, silk, and linen; and subtle logos, or none at all. In a similar vein, I also found videos promoting Quiet Luxury pieces, promoting minimalism, refinement, and the subtle signalling of wealth through quality and design.

Conservatism thrives on the belief that answers lie in the past rather than the future; on nostalgia, and how the trends we follow in clothing reflect broader cultural values. While I’m not suggesting that choosing to dress up and favouring a quiet luxury style makes one inherently conservative, embracing traditional aesthetics can be one step on the ladder. These styles are conservative by definition: they aim to preserve an idealised past that may never have existed.

It would be easy to say I’m overthinking a fashion trend, but what is more conservative than aspiring to traditionalism? Reflecting critically on how trends shape us is essential to being aware of their influence.

Absorbing conservative messaging

Although these videos appear designed to a conservative aesthetic and agenda, I discovered them while researching sustainability practices. This shows that different viewpoints can independently reach similar conclusions about the value of timeless clothing — something worth recognising and understanding.

The feeling that I might have been inadvertently absorbing conservative messaging left me feeling quite disjointed. After sitting with the feeling I realised the significant difference, even when the outcomes appear the same, between avoiding cheaply and unethically produced items and fearing the appearance of something looking cheap. For conservatives promoting the old money style, it doesn’t matter whether something is expensive or sustainably produced, as long as it appears elegant, understated, or expensive, at least from a distance or in a short clip.

Without close inspection, the two can appear almost identical, making it easy to slip from ethical concerns about clothing into the belief that modern styles are inherently cheap, unsophisticated, or brash.

The predatory aspect here is something that I kept coming up against after engaging with the old money aesthetic videos. At a time when economic mobility is increasingly out of reach for most young people, cosplaying wealth has become more and more popular. That is what so much of this aesthetic feels like to me, a yearning for a lifestyle that no longer exists in the same way, or at least for the aspirations once attached to it: home ownership, being the sole breadwinner, having ample disposable time. These now feel incredibly out of reach in our economy, because we live in a late capitalist nightmare where almost everyone has to work a lot harder.

Other trends that romanticise the past, like the trad wife movement, also sell a version of time that people associate with stability or a life of leisure. And the thing is, it works; it is appealing in those ways, but only if you squint and don’t think about it too hard.

And in myself, in the current climate, I’ve been experiencing anxiety about the future – as I think we all have, especially young people. I turned twenty-two last week, and I’m worried about my job and property-ownership prospects, along with most in my cohort. But it is those exact anxieties that they are preying on, trying to lead us into the mindset that ‘the old ways are the best’. But dressing like the fifth Roy sibling from Succession won’t make you a homeowner or exempt you from work, and it’s predatory for these conservative creators to try and sell you on that idea. It’s likely pushing people down the alt-right pipeline.

The rise of Cringe

All these preferences rely on having a direct opposite, an implied enemy, which I would say is the appearance of doing ‘too much’ or ‘trying too hard’. I have seen the term ‘cringe’ crop up time and time again in videos promoting classic, timeless fashion. It’s usually used in the context of comparing “cringe” versus “classy”, contrasting the supposed second-hand embarrassment or disgust you feel when looking at modern styles like baggy clothes, streetwear, punk-type looks, or dressed-down styles, with the relaxed, timeless, secure feeling of ‘high-class’ tailoring.

‘Cringe’ as an adjective has risen in popularity over the last ten years, and I would confidently classify it as a conservative trait, reinforcing conservative beliefs that ‘less is more’. The behaviours or individuals that frequently get called cringe online tend to be people considered different, those putting themselves out there, trying something new in an unconventional manner. Cringe culture, as it exists online, is at its core the mockery of the unconventional, and what is more conservative than that? Calling things cringe may not seem harmful, but it reflects and stokes an attitude that dislikes change, innovation, experimentation, and creativity.

Ultimately, conservatives’ only real joke about liberals has people with blue hair in the punchline. Said supposed joke usually also includes adjacent jabs about piercings, tattoos, eyeliner, etc. Underneath that well-flogged dead horse is the disgust they feel toward people freely expressing themselves beyond the mould. There is a belief of many conservatives, I’ve found, that they are the blueprint. I mean, many say they are the silent majority, and any innovation or growth is unnatural and transgressive.

As well as a rejection of what is over-the-top, there is also a rejection of what is different. But also, classism is baked into every aspect of this preservationist mindset, with a tendency to look down on those who cannot afford to dress more sophisticatedly. Another inherent, antithetical villain of quiet luxury is being seen as cheap.

Coffee in the sunshine. Photo by Rosa Rafael on Unsplash

A lot of modern conservatism, more so in the US, is focused on building personal wealth and centring one’s close family unit. There is something very individualistic, or if benevolent, done within a very narrow scope. This, I feel, ties into that – the idealisation and the aspiring to the landed gentry levels of generational wealth that it takes to truly carry off the old money look requires a fixated level of ambition and truly buying into the idea of entrepreneurship and personal growth, pursued within the capitalist system rather than against it.

That’s again very conservative, aiming to win the predatory game of chance rather than improving it to be fairer. The fear of looking cheap, also baked into this style, is then not looking like you’ve earned that money, like you were born at the top rather than working your way up.

What you will also see in all content surrounding the old money aesthetic, like the “clean girl” before it, is only thin, able-bodied and conventionally attractive white people. As with nearly everything else promoted and embraced by young conservatives, exclusion is essential to the look. The prominence of these figures in this aspirational trend reflects an idealised, exclusionary past, echoing the logic of white supremacist ideologies that promote a purified and homogeneous vision of society. This is ultimately where this was all leading; this trend is all the other things I’ve discussed, but at the end of the day, it really is just a stand-in for white supremacy.

Aesthetic conservatism is linked with political conservatism, particularly through the lens of “nostalgia politics”. The old money look being pushed on social media subtly reinforces traditional hierarchies tied to race, class, and gender. This becomes particularly visible when such aesthetics are used to mock or devalue contemporary styles associated with marginalised groups, such as streetwear, queer fashion, or alternative subcultures, being branded as “cringe” or “low status”.

Framing the old money aesthetic as a cultural soft-power tool for conservative values is therefore not an exaggeration. The end goal, I feel, is yet another method of exclusionary and classist recruitment tactics by the right, targeted primarily at fashion-conscious young people anxious about their future while trying to discover their identity through clothing.

The AllatRa Creative Society: from global peace promises to a real security threat

Have you ever stumbled on a slick YouTube video predicting the end of “consumerist civilisation” and inviting you to join a Creative Society that will, by 2036, abolish hunger, debt and taxes? Congratulations; you’ve just knocked on AllatRa’s door.

The AllatRa movement began in Ukraine in 2014, as a publisher for the esoteric books of the supposed author Anastasia Novykh. Those books introduce a messianic figure called Nomo whose biography looks suspiciously like Vladimir Putin’s. The man the books revolve around is Igor Danilov, once a coal miner and back‑street chiropractor, whom followers describe as a “higher‑level being”.

Outwardly AllatRa calls itself a volunteer “platform that transcends politics and religion”. Look a little deeper and you’ll find it boasts “millions” of members and lists its head office in Atlanta, Georgia – a handy state for registering non‑profits with minimal scrutiny of their finances.

Despite the Atlanta address, AllatRa’s corporate web stretches from Cyprus and Czechia to Belize. Investigative journalists at Slidstvo.info mapped at least 21 entities, including offshore companies, tied to the group.

That spider web lets AllatRa look “poor and volunteer‑run” in one country while holding hard assets in another. The same investigation uncovered a long‑running crowdfunding drive that, between 2014 and 2021 alone, pulled in almost ₴7.5 million (about US $200,000).

For years the movement claimed it had “no bank accounts and no profits”. Yet a 2024 US‑FARA filing by lobbyist Allen Egon Cholakian lists an annual AllatRa PR budget of $150,000 and gives Cholakian’s own fee as $8,000.

Extra cash flows in from Novykh book sales, merch and “business partners” – some under sanctions or insolvency. Offshore firms in Cyprus and Belize help muddy the trail. Slidstvo’s reporters asked the leadership why a “purely volunteer” project needs shell companies; they’re still waiting for an answer.

Helping along the “Nazis‑in‑Ukraine” myth

“Ukraine is ruled by Nazis; it must be denazified.” The Kremlin rolled out that line on 24 February 2022 – and AllatRa echoed it within hours. Ukraine’s security service (SBU) later raided more than 20 local AllatRa cells and seized material calling for missile strikes on western Ukraine and the creation of a “Union of Slavic Peoples” led from Moscow.

So, a group that markets pacifism is recycling Kremlin war‑justification narratives in spiritual wrapping. Their videos still talk of the “fascist Kyiv regime” and “Slavic brotherly love,” blithely ignoring the fact that Ukraine has a democratically elected Jewish president and the far-right polls at the margins.

AllatRa’s PR says it is a “helpful, apolitical platform”. But in SBU‑seized documents, AllatRa outlines their three‑step roadmap: (1) viral content blitz; (2) founding political parties; (3) a global referendum to replace current systems with AllatRa’s “creative” model.

The same files describe a “scientific climate forum”. In reality, AllatRa denies human‑driven warming and warns that a rupture of the Mariana Trench will destroy Earth in 2036 – unless, of course, humanity adopts the Creative Society. Fear is harvested, then channelled into a political offer.

The law on the side of AllatRa

In October 2024 Slovak prosecutor Lucia Pavlaninová opened a criminal case against reporter Kristina Ciroková of Czech newspaper Seznam Zprávy over her cult‑coverage articles. The International Federation of Journalists condemned the move as power abuse – and it emerged that Pavlaninová herself had previously promoted Creative Society events. The Slovak prosecutor‑general dropped the case; Pavlaninová now faces disciplinary action.

Why should you care? When public officials bend the law for a disinformation cult, your right to reliable information is next in line.

On 1 April 2025, MP Stanislav Berkovec (ANO) hosted a media seminar where four AllatRa women spoke – masquerading as the non‑existent “Parents’ Free Association.” The Czech Interior Ministry has long warned MPs about the group’s pro‑Russia leanings, but Berkovec shrugged: “I can’t vet their private lives.” That is exactly how spiritual marketing morphs into political lobbying: parliament confers instant legitimacy.

Why this should matter to you

AllatRa rebrands at lightning speed and hunts for prestige; in spring 2024, its envoys secured a brief audience with Pope Francis. Months later, the group hired a US lobbyist to charm Congress. VSquare tracked 275 connected social‑media accounts that had pumped out 83,000+ videos to a cumulative two billion views.

If you think AllatRa isn’t in your feed, you may just not have noticed. It deploys the classic firehose of falsehood; flood audiences with so many “alternative facts” that certainty itself erodes.

AllatRa blends spirituality, volunteer glamour and utopian pledges – but beneath the glow sit pro‑Kremlin narratives, opaque finances and active lobbying. Critical thinking – finding the source, verifying the context, asking awkward questions – is the best immunisation against such hybrid movements.

References

From the archive: the hollow earth, and the inside-out cosmos

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This article originally appeared in The Skeptic, Volume 5, Issue 4, from 1991.

In the field of strange beliefs which go against common sense, one of the strangest is the idea that we live not on the outside surface of a sphere, but on the inside. In the USA in 1869 an angel appeared to Cyrus Reed Teed. It told him that the Earth is hollow and that we live on its inner surface and that the stars, Moon and Sun are all tiny bodies inside the sphere moving along very complicated paths.

In 1870 he described this in his book The Cellular Cosmogony, or the Earth a Concave Sphere. He believed God wanted him to found a new religion, so he changed his name to Koresh and began a cult called Koreshanity. It soon attracted believers. In the 1890s he took his colony of believers to Florida where they built the town of Estero. It was not until 1949 that the cult’s magazine, Flaming Sword, finally ceased publication.

The idea of an inside-out universe was also adopted in inter-war Germany by Peter Bender. He, and after his death Karl Neupert, led a cult which published several books during the Nazi period. They attracted the attention of the Nazi leadership, some of whom were attracted to many strange beliefs. In April 1942, a secret expedition, approved by Hitler and Himmler, set off to the Baltic island of Rügen. Led by Dr Heinz Fischer, it included some of Germany’s top radar experts.

After they arrived, their radar equipment was pointed into the sky at an angle of 45 degrees. The other scientists in the expedition assumed this was merely a test of the equipment. It was only after the radar had remained in this strange position for several days that Fischer told them exactly why they were there. Hitler wanted the inside-out cosmos theory proved scientifically. This was to be done by sending radar waves up into the sky where they would eventually hit another part of the inside of the sphere and be reflected back. After doing this the expedition were then to try to get an image of the British fleet in Scapa Flow.

The inside-out universe idea still has some supporters. Martin Gardner (Skeptical Inquirer vol 12, p355) recorded that in 1981 a mathematician, Mostafa Abdelkader, described in a mathematical paper how the universe could be mapped point by point into the inside-out cosmos model. In this mapping the further an object is above the surface of the Earth, the nearer it is to the centre of the hollow Earth, and the smaller it is. All the laws of the normal universe would be much more complicated, but to an observer in that universe everything would appear to be the same as to an observer in the normal universe.

Both models of the universe are valid, but in the inside-out cosmos the laws of physics are much more complicated. As there are no advantages in using this model, Occam’s Razor suggests it should be discarded.


  • Read more in Umberto Eco’s The Book of Legendary Lands, 2013

Facts won’t change minds about animal medicine, so should we bother trying?

In veterinary medicine (as in human medicine) we are often faced with people who believe that, despite our oath to advocate for our patients, there are veterinary professionals who are actively trying to harm animals.

As history shows with the likes of Harold Shipman, there are certainly sad and disastrous events that occur in human and veterinary medicine that we can learn from to ensure they never happen again. They are, thankfully, rare.

Yet sometimes, people believe – magnified and exacerbated by social media – that there is widespread harm being done because a mass of professionals is ‘in’ on a conspiracy, trying to make money, trying to harm pets, and more. This is not true. But, as with most things, the loud and vocal minority can make a lasting impact – especially when they set out to attack the integrity of a compassionate profession.

One example is anti-vaccination rhetoric. A 2020 study into human vaccination concluded that, over a 20-year period, vaccines were remarkably safe. Similarly, a 2004 canine study found no temporal association between vaccination and ill-health in dogs. Although there is always risk with any medication, and medication reactions obviously do occur, the preponderance of the evidence supports minimal risk of harm from vaccines. Even when we look more closely at some specific brands of vaccination that are particularly vilified, the evidence still suggests incredibly uncommon and rare adverse events.

You need only to look at the re-emergence of measles in the UK and USA; countries that had previously, due to vaccination, almost managed to eliminate the disease. New data suggests that it could soon become endemic again if vaccination levels remain as they are.

This re-emergence was fundamentally caused by a now-disproven paper that linked autism to a vaccine, and subsequent erosion of trust in science by misinformation. The General Medical Council found the paper’s author, former doctor Andrew Wakefield, guilty of serious professional misconduct – but, despite the publication’s withdrawal and being disproved by numerous studies, there are still people who continue to cite Wakefield’s research as evidence of the harms of vaccines.

Medical skepticism has been subject to social-psychological research, which found strong correlations between vaccine skepticism and adherence to complementary and alternative medicine and conspiracy ideation. A 2019 study by Cuevas et al. suggests that mistrust toward healthcare may unfavourably affect patient-clinician interactions and patients’ outcomes. To tackle it, we can’t just present facts, because facts do not change minds; we need to implement a more systemic long-term strategy to address the root causes of medical mistrust.

One 2020 paper (Scherer et al.) looked at three theoretical perspectives on why certain people are susceptible to online misinformation: lack of knowledge or literacy to discriminate between true and false information; having strong pre-existing beliefs or ideological motivations; and neglecting to sufficiently reflect about the truth or accuracy of news content encountered on social media.

Addressing pre-existing beliefs, research from Toomey et al. found that factors such as worldview, religion, and political beliefs have strong associations with rejection of science related to controversial issues. Not only that, but our bias towards those factors also means that we see data compatible with the beliefs we currently hold as more ‘valid’ than data that could refute those beliefs. This was further supported by a 2015 paper that showed acceptance of scientific evidence depends on the availability of such alternative points of view as religious faith and political ideology; if scientific results conflict with a readily available alternative view, individuals are less likely to defer to the research.

Furthermore, we are highly sensitive to the beliefs and actions of those in our immediate circle or community – is this the hunter-gatherer ancestral background rearing its head? One paper by Douglas et al., (2017) reported social motives (the desire to belong and to maintain a positive image of the self and the in-group) as a driver of conspiracy ideology.

A Black woman in a long-sleeved white top sitting at a white desk browses Facebook on her laptop
Browsing Facebook, a very effective way to build mistrust in medicine – human or animal. Image by cottonbro studio, Pexels

So, while behavioural change can occur at the individual level, broader impacts require a focus on social networks and systems. This is a great example of how social media platforms are exacerbating these beliefs, as people enter an echo-chamber and feel part of that community or movement. Trying to engage in reasonable discussion with individuals who choose to engage aggressively is likely futile; data that runs contrary to their view is likely to drive them further away.

Additionally, the physical strain of your time and resources and mental drain on your emotions means direct confrontation is not likely to change minds. Does this mean we shouldn’t ever ‘call out’ or counteract medical misinformation? Perhaps not.

There is often a silent majority, quietly reading, sitting on the fence. These people, not yet aligned to any particular view, will potentially read your professional, calm, polite and robust replies, and you may make a difference to them. Evidence does show that those people exposed to correct information are less susceptible to conspiracy or misinformation than those who have not been exposed to the correct information first. This is called inoculation theory – offering a logical basis for developing a psychological “vaccine” against misinformation.

A paper by Douglas et al. (2017) discusses factors such as epistemic motives (the human desire to find causal explanations for events, building up a stable, accurate, and internally consistent understanding of the world) and existential motives (the need for people to feel safe and secure in their environment and to exert control over the environment) as other reasons people will latch on to alternative or conspiracy views – because it gives them an answer and control over a situation they feel out of control of.

This is noteworthy in veterinary medicine – sadly, animals get ill and die, and sometimes these events are unexpected. We do not always do a post mortem to confirm diagnosis, maybe due to financial cost, or owners’ wishes. Owners, in their understandable deep emotional state of grief or mental duress (anyone who has lost an animal companion can attest to this), can try to find answers as to what happened – and can settle on blaming the vaccine/medication the pet had a week, month or even year prior, especially when anti-vax info is easily accessible when you start to search for it. Again, vaccine reactions do occur – this is the importance of pharmacosurveillance – but overall they have been proven incredibly safe.

Toomey et al.’s 2023 study concluded that most attitudes and behaviours regarding research decision-making are not based on the rational evaluation of evidence, but determined instead by a host of contextual, social, and cultural factors and values. Therefore, providing additional information – even in accessible formats – is not likely to lead to significant changes.

So, facts will not always change minds, and a social media argument is unlikely to be beneficial, helpful or fruitful to you or the other person, and will probably cause both of you considerable anger, anxiety and frustration. Ultimately, you both believe you’re right, and on reflection want the same thing – a healthy, happy pet (you’re just going about it via different routes, one of which may not be evidence-based). But there is some indication that effective techniques exist.

With that in mind, how do we best get people to evaluate, remember and engage in evidence-based information?

‘Message elaboration’ is a term that broadly refers to the amount of effort that an audience of a message has to use to process and evaluate a message, remember it, and subsequently accept or reject it. One paper from 2022 looked into the presentation of a message and its contents, evaluating how successfully it was received. The results indicated that including statistical evidence in messaging reduced elaboration, improving audiences’ understanding, with fewer misperceptions and increased perceived message believability. Facebook messages presented in this way also were associated with higher audience intentions to share, like and comment, showing greater engagement and favourability. The research also found that messages including text and an image had better message elaboration than image-only messages. This shows that, if we want to engage effectively with people on social media, we should consider how we present our messaging, as well as what we’re saying.

Benecke and DeYoung’s 2019 study looks at the broader picture, and identifies the need for a long-term educational strategy. In their work, they explain that medical professionals must take a different approach to education, including outreach to vulnerable communities and individuals; they also note that social media platforms have an active role to play in monitoring and banning false information.

In terms of bridging the gap between medical professionals and the public, and opening up conversation that’s more likely to help than hinder, we need more spaces for group dialogue, where we can listen to multiple perspectives and “embodied knowledge”, which can help us alter our message to make it more likely to be well-received, and to think more carefully about whom we seek to target with our message. In essence, we should tackle medical misinformation, but we must be strategic in how we do so.

Direct contact with clients and veterinary teams can also end in a positive or negative interaction. Perceived dismissive attitudes, judgement or defensive behaviour by a veterinary team will likely build bigger walls and shut down opportunity for conversation and compromise.

Some of these issues can be mitigated by ‘physician-focused’ changes. For example, a study found the effects of mistrust can be countered using patient-centered communication skills. These include soliciting the patient’s concerns and priorities, and being responsive to the healthcare needs and belief system the patient identifies with. One study found that medical professionals might be able to buffer patients’ levels of medical mistrust using patient-centred communication.

Medical misinformation is rife in human and veterinary medicine. It is frustrating, and can cause poor patient outcomes. But we, as veterinary professionals, have to accept some accountability in how our behaviour shapes communication and our perceived image. There is no simple answer as to how we tackle it, but ensuring we engage in the right way can ensure we help, rather than hinder, communication with those with alternative views.

Further Reading

The Skeptic Podcast: Episode #014

The Skeptic podcast, bringing you the best of the magazine’s expert analysis of pseudoscience, conspiracy theory and claims of the paranormal since its relaunch as online news source in September 2020. 

On this episode:

Subscribe to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or to support the show, take out a small voluntary donation at patreon.com/theskeptic.

My first experience at a Holistic Health and Healing Expo

On my long commute home from work one day, I passed a sign that read “Holistic Health and Healing Expo” and I was reminded of the events that Michael Marshall and Alice Howarth attend and talk about on the Skeptics with a K podcast. I wondered whether this might be something to see firsthand so I emailed the podcast website, asking if it would be worth my time.

The host was nice enough to reply encouragingly with some helpful tips as to how to make the most of my experience. I talked my wife, Aimee, who was rightfully leery, into going along for support – reassuring her that we were not going to be confrontational, but to witness first hand and try to understand why these events appeal to so many people.

At the Morgantown Expo Center, we paid $10 apiece to get a wristband for the day.  Besides that, there was ample opportunity to spend money, but I only bought some incense sticks for my son at home. For our 10 dollars we got a swag bag with a very nice coffee mug, a sample of elderberry and echinacea tea, a plastic sachet of tiny purple crystals, a strange stick of wood from ‘Appalachian ShaMomma’ with a card reading “mountains are calling… You going to answer?” (I have no idea of its purpose, as I did not see the stand), and an array of literature.

Crystals, books, tuning forks, Buddha bells, little statues, art, potions, teas and herbs lined the hall in various booths and tables. Everyone, with few exceptions, seemed very genuine and nice. Most of the vendors seemed to be true believers in their areas of “expertise”. I guess I should not have been surprised at how many of the presenters were trained masters of their professions, many of which were sufferers who decided to take up the calling themselves.

The first stand we visited, we both later agreed, was the toughest thing we encountered – the Health Benefits of X39 Stem Cell Activation Patches, run by Dr J. Thomas Acklin MD, who told us he was a former Johns Hopkins-trained neuroscientist. Dr Acklin was very forthright, asking what our ailments were. Aimee told him that she had thyroid disorder.  He said, “No you didn’t”. I also apparently did not have the diabetes, which would probably come as a surprise to those who diagnosed me. We were informed that medical professionals were being purposefully deceptive, but it was never explained as to how or in what way. 

A dentist looms over someone's face/the camera, holding a metal implement in each hand, with a headtorch shining down from his forehead. He's wearing glasses whose rims are resting on a blue surgical mask, and he's wearing beige gloves.
Tricksy doctors, always making things up..! Photo by Movidagrafica, via Pixabay

Dr Acklin explained that he was disillusioned by the medical profession, so he left to produce X39 for “Microbiome reconstruction… rapid minor pain relief, reduced inflammation, better sleep”, and a whole host of other things. His partner explained how our stem cells migrate throughout the body to regions of distress, once they’re called by a “targeted and specific light frequency”. And almost like they were immunological entities.

We, however, knew this was not the way stem cells work – Aimee and I each have master’s degrees in advanced biology. She works at a large pharma company and I work as Molecular Microbiologist in a laboratory. I also taught in biology, up until the pandemic.  Stem cells are generated locally or in bone marrow where they do migrate to the need area as a response to cell signalling whereas our immune system searches for problems and reacts accordingly. Their patches were designed to produce light frequencies that penetrate skin when attached to problem areas such as shoulder pain or malfunctioning beta cells in the pancreas. This man was very taxing, and when the first lecture session was called over the loudspeaker, we gladly excused ourselves.

My favourite booth was our second stop, where we met Bob Micklus and the Flowers in the Forest. It had a cabinet with rows of little blue dropper bottles labelled with flower names. Bob, soft-spoken and diligent, explained how each of his solutions did not contain any of the plant on the label. Water, according to Bob, has memory. His solutions worked like what seemed to me to be homeopathy with a botanical twist. Bob pointed to a compendium of plants and their respective benefits, qualities like “divine healing” and “stress relief”. He touted something he called “Florida Water”, which I read later goes for $10 for around 60ml. Three drops go in a glass of water daily, though for extreme cases they could be taken undiluted.

I would say about 70% of the booths were tailored to women. My wife, who is in her mid-40s, remarked how most of the attendees were women about her age. Men made up only a small part of the crowd. When Aimee and I split up, some of the booth operators seemed reluctant to spend much time on me; I assume because I was not their target demographic. No one seemed ready or willing to explain Reiki to me in any great detail at any of the four booths I visited alone.

While I was doing my best to avoid being too confrontational with the vendors, the thing I found hardest to hold my tongue over was where people with real issues were looking desperately for answers and miracles that modern medicine could not provide. Aimee noted a severely disabled man using a wheelchair rolling in the door and, who she imagined, frustrated with established medical treatments, was desperately looking for miracles.

Overall, our first visit to a Holistic Health and Healing Expo was quite fun, although my wife was thoroughly worn out from the long one-on-one chats she had with people who seemed well-meaning and thoroughly convinced by their own bad ideas. It’s an adventure we will always remember. Will we be quick to repeat it? Who knows…