Unscientific American
"Michael Shermer got his first clue that things were changing at Scientific American
in late 2018. The author had been writing his “Skeptic” column for the
magazine since 2001. His monthly essays, aimed at an audience of both
scientists and laymen, championed the scientific method, defended the
need for evidence-based debate, and explored how cognitive and
ideological biases can derail the search for truth. Shermer’s role
models included two twentieth-century thinkers who, like him, relished
explaining science to the public: Carl Sagan, the ebullient astronomer
and TV commentator; and evolutionary biologist Stephen Jay Gould, who
wrote a popular monthly column in Natural History magazine for
25 years. Shermer hoped someday to match Gould’s record of producing 300
consecutive columns. That goal would elude him.
In continuous publication since 1845, Scientific American is
the country’s leading mainstream science magazine. Authors published in
its pages have included Albert Einstein, Francis Crick, Jonas Salk, and
J. Robert Oppenheimer—some 200 Nobel Prize winners in all. SciAm, as
many readers call it, had long encouraged its authors to challenge
established viewpoints. In the mid-twentieth century, for example, the
magazine published a series of articles building the case for the
then-radical concept of plate tectonics. In the twenty-first century, however, American scientific media, including Scientific American,
began to slip into lockstep with progressive beliefs. Suddenly, certain
orthodoxies—especially concerning race, gender, or climate—couldn’t be
questioned.
“I started to see the writing on the wall toward the end of my run
there,” Shermer told me. “I saw I was being slowly nudged away from
certain topics.” One month, he submitted a column
about the “fallacy of excluded exceptions,” a common logical error in
which people perceive a pattern of causal links between factors but
ignore counterexamples that don’t fit the pattern... the common belief that sexually abused children grow up to become
abusers in turn. He cited evidence that “most sexually abused children
do not grow up to abuse their own children” and that “most abusive
parents were not abused as children.” And he observed how damaging this
stereotype could be to abuse survivors; statistical clarity is all the
more vital in such delicate cases, he argued. But Shermer’s editor at
the magazine wasn’t having it. To the editor, Shermer’s effort to
correct a common misconception might be read as downplaying the
seriousness of abuse. Even raising the topic might be too traumatic for
victims.
The following month, Shermer submitted a column discussing ways that
discrimination against racial minorities, gays, and other groups has
diminished (while acknowledging the need for continued progress). Here,
Shermer ran into the same wall that Better Angels of Our Nature
author Steven Pinker and other scientific optimists have faced. For
progressives, admitting that any problem—racism, pollution, poverty—has
improved means surrendering the rhetorical high ground. “They are
committed to the idea that there is no cumulative progress,” Shermer
says, and they angrily resist efforts to track the true prevalence, or
the “base rate,” of a problem. Saying that “everything is wonderful and
everyone should stop whining doesn’t really work,” his editor objected.
Shermer dug his grave deeper by quoting Manhattan Institute fellow Heather Mac Donald and The Coddling of the American Mind
authors Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt, who argue that the rise of
identity-group politics undermines the goal of equal rights for all.
Shermer wrote that intersectional theory, which lumps individuals into
aggregate identity groups based on race, sex, and other immutable
characteristics, “is a perverse inversion” of Martin Luther King’s dream
of a color-blind society. For Shermer’s editors, apparently, this was
the last straw. The column was killed and Shermer’s contract terminated.
Apparently, SciAm no longer had the ideological bandwidth to publish such a heterodox thinker.
American journalism has never been very good at covering science. In
fact, the mainstream press is generally a cheap date when it comes to
stories about alternative medicine, UFO sightings, pop psychology, or
various forms of junk science. For many years, that was one factor that
made Scientific American’s rigorous reporting so vital. The New York Times, National Geographic,
Smithsonian, and a few other mainstream publications also produced
top-notch science coverage. Peer-reviewed academic journals aimed at
specialists met a higher standard still. But over the past decade or so,
the quality of science journalism—even at the top publications—has
declined in a new and alarming way. Today’s journalistic failings don’t
owe simply to lazy reporting or a weakness for sensationalism but to a
sweeping and increasingly pervasive worldview.
It is hard to put a single name on this sprawling ideology. It has
its roots both in radical 1960s critiques of capitalism and in the
late-twentieth-century postmodern movement that sought to “problematize”
notions of objective truth. Critical race theory, which sees structural
racism as the grand organizing principle of our society, is one branch.
Queer studies, which seeks to “deconstruct” traditional norms of
family, sex, and gender, is another. Critics of this worldview sometimes
call it “identity politics”; supporters prefer the term
“intersectionality.” In managerial settings, the doctrine lives under
the label of diversity, equity, and inclusion, or DEI: a set of policies
that sound anodyne—but in practice, are anything but.
This dogma sees Western values, and the United States in particular,
as uniquely pernicious forces in world history. And, as exemplified by
the anticapitalist tirades of climate activist Greta Thunberg, the
movement features a deep eco-pessimism buoyed only by the distant hope
of a collectivist green utopia.
The DEI worldview took over our institutions slowly, then all at once.
Many on the left, especially journalists, saw Donald Trump’s election in
2016 as an existential threat that necessitated dropping the guardrails
of balance and objectivity. Then, in early 2020, Covid lockdowns put
American society under unbearable pressure. Finally, in May 2020, George
Floyd’s death under the knee of a Minneapolis police officer provided
the spark. Protesters exploded onto the streets. Every institution, from
coffeehouses to Fortune 500 companies, felt compelled to demonstrate
its commitment to the new “antiracist” ethos. In an already polarized
environment, most media outlets lunged further left. Centrists—including
New York Times opinion editor James Bennet and science writer Donald G. McNeil, Jr.—were forced out, while radical progressive voices were elevated.
This was the national climate when Laura Helmuth took the helm of Scientific American in April 2020... Rarely in the magazine’s history had so many Americans urgently
needed timely, sensible science reporting: Where did Covid come from?
How is it transmitted? Was shutting down schools and businesses
scientifically justified? What do we know about vaccines?
Scientific American did examine Covid from various angles,
including an informative July 2020 cover story diagramming how the
SARS-CoV-2 virus “sneaks inside human cells.” But the publication didn’t
break much new ground in covering the pandemic. When it came to
assessing growing evidence that Covid might have escaped from a
laboratory, for example, SciAm got scooped by New York and Vanity Fair, publications known more for their coverage of politics and entertainment than of science.
At the same time, SciAm dramatically ramped up its social-justice coverage. The magazine would soon publish a flurry of articles with titles such as “Modern Mathematics Confronts Its White, Patriarchal Past” and “The Racist Roots of Fighting Obesity.” The death of the twentieth century’s most acclaimed biologist was the hook for “The Complicated Legacy of E. O. Wilson,”
an opinion piece arguing that Wilson’s work was “based on racist
ideas,” without quoting a single line from his large published canon. At
least those pieces had some connection to scientific topics, though. In
2021, SciAm published an opinion essay, “Why the Term ‘JEDI’ Is Problematic for Describing Programs That Promote Justice, Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion.”
The article’s five authors took issue with the effort by some
social-justice advocates to create a cute new label while expanding the
DEI acronym to include “Justice.” The Jedi knights of the Star Wars
movies are “inappropriate mascots for social justice,” the authors
argued, because they are “prone to (white) saviorism and toxically
masculine approaches to conflict resolution (violent duels with phallic
light sabers, gaslighting by means of ‘Jedi mind tricks,’ etc.).” What
all this had to do with science was anyone’s guess.
Several prominent scientists took note of SciAm’s shift. “Scientific American
is changing from a popular-science magazine into a
social-justice-in-science magazine,” Jerry Coyne, a University of
Chicago emeritus professor of ecology and evolution, wrote on his
popular blog, “Why Evolution Is True.” He asked why the magazine had “changed its mission from publishing decent science pieces to flawed bits of ideology.”
“The old Scientific American that I subscribed to in college
was all about the science,” University of New Mexico evolutionary
psychologist Geoffrey Miller told me. “It was factual reporting on new
ideas and findings from physics to psychology, with a clear writing
style, excellent illustrations, and no obvious political agenda.” Miller
says that he noticed a gradual change about 15 years ago, and then a
“woke political bias that got more flagrant and irrational” over recent
years. The leading U.S. science journals, Nature and Science, and the U.K.-based New Scientist made a similar pivot, he says. By the time Trump was elected in 2016, he says, “the Scientific American editors seem to have decided that fighting conservatives was more important than reporting on science.”
Scientific American’s increasing engagement in politics drew
national attention in late 2020, when the magazine, for the first time
in its 175-year history, endorsed a presidential candidate...
Scientific American wasn’t alone in endorsing a presidential candidate in 2020. Nature also endorsed Biden in that election cycle. The New England Journal of Medicine indirectly did the same, writing that
“our current leaders have demonstrated that they are dangerously
incompetent” and should not “keep their jobs.” Vinay Prasad, the prominent oncologist
and public-health expert, recently lampooned the endorsement trend on
his Substack, asking whether science journals will tell him who to vote
for again in 2024. “Here is an idea! Call it crazy,” he wrote: “Why
don’t scientists focus on science, and let politics decide the
election?” When scientists insert themselves into politics, he added,
“the only result is we are forfeiting our credibility.”
But what does it mean to “focus on science”? Many of us learned the
standard model of the scientific method in high school. We understand
that science attempts—not always perfectly—to shield the search for
truth from political interference, religious dogmas, or personal
emotions and biases. But that model of science has been under attack for
half a century. The French theorist Michel Foucault argued that
scientific objectivity is an illusion produced and shaped by society’s
“systems of power.” Today’s woke activists challenge the legitimacy of
science on various grounds: the predominance of white males in its
history, the racist attitudes held by some of its pioneers, its
inferiority to indigenous “ways of knowing,” and so on. Ironically, as
Christopher Rufo points out in his book America’s Cultural Revolution,
this postmodern ideology—which began as a critique of oppressive power
structures—today empowers the most illiberal, repressive voices within
academic and other institutions.
Shermer believes that the new style of science journalism “is being
defined by this postmodern worldview, the idea that all facts are
relative or culturally determined.” Of course, if scientific facts are
just products of a particular cultural milieu, he says, “then everything
is a narrative that has to reflect some political side.” Without an
agreed-upon framework to separate valid from invalid claims—without
science, in other words—people fall back on their hunches and in-group
biases, the “my-side bias.”
Traditionally, science reporting was mostly descriptive—writers strove to explain new discoveries in a particular field. The new style of science journalism takes the form of advocacy—writers seek to nudge readers toward a politically approved opinion.
“Lately journalists have been behaving more like lawyers,” Shermer says,
“marshaling evidence in favor of their own view and ignoring anything
that doesn’t help their argument.” This isn’t just the case in science
journalism, of course. Even before the Trump era, the mainstream press
boosted stories that support left-leaning viewpoints and carefully
avoided topics that might offer ammunition to the Right. Most readers
understand, of course, that stories about politics are likely to be
shaped by a media outlet’s ideological slant. But science is
theoretically supposed to be insulated from political influence. Sadly,
the new woke style of science journalism reframes factual scientific
debates as ideological battles, with one side presumed to be morally
superior. Not surprisingly, the crisis in science journalism is most
obvious in the fields where public opinion is most polarized.
The Covid pandemic was a crisis not just for public health but for the
public’s trust in our leading institutions. From Anthony Fauci on down,
key public-health officials issued unsupported policy prescriptions,
fudged facts, and suppressed awkward questions about the origin of the
virus. A skeptical, vigorous science press could have done a lot to keep
these officials honest—and the public informed. Instead, even elite
science publications mostly ran cover for the establishment consensus.
For example, when Stanford’s Jay Bhattacharya and two other
public-health experts proposed an alternative to lockdowns in their Great Barrington Declaration, media outlets joined in Fauci’s effort to discredit and silence them.
Richard Ebright, professor of chemical biology at Rutgers University, is
a longtime critic of gain-of-function research, which can make
naturally occurring viruses deadlier. From the early weeks of the
pandemic, he suspected that the virus had leaked from China’s Wuhan
Institute of Virology. Evidence increasingly suggests that he was
correct. I asked Ebright how he thought that the media had handled the lab-leak debate. He responded:
Science writers at most major news outlets and science news outlets have
spent the last four years obfuscating and misrepresenting facts about
the origin of the pandemic. They have done this to protect the
scientists, science administrators, and the field of
science—gain-of-function research on potential pandemic pathogens—that
likely caused the pandemic. They have done this in part because those
scientists and science administrators are their sources, . . . in part
because they believe that public trust in science would be damaged by
reporting the facts, and in part because the origin of the pandemic
acquired a partisan political valance after early public statements by
Tom Cotton, Mike Pompeo, and Donald Trump.
During the first two years of the pandemic, most mainstream media
outlets barely mentioned the lab-leak debate. And when they did, they
generally savaged both the idea and anyone who took it seriously. In
March 2021, long after credible evidence emerged hinting at a laboratory
origin for the virus, Scientific American published an article,
“Lab-Leak Hypothesis Made It Harder for Scientists to Seek the Truth.”
The piece compared the theory to the KGB’s disinformation campaign about
the origin of HIV/AIDS and blamed lab-leak advocates for creating a
poisonous climate around the issue: “The proliferation of xenophobic
rhetoric has been linked to a striking increase in anti-Asian hate
crimes. It has also led to a vilification of the [Wuhan Institute of
Virology] and some of its Western collaborators, as well as partisan
attempts to defund certain types of research (such as ‘gain of function’
research).” Today we know that the poisonous atmosphere around the
lab-leak question was deliberately created by Anthony Fauci and a
handful of scientists involved in dangerous research at the Wuhan lab.
And the case for banning gain-of-function research has never been stronger.
One of the few science journalists who did take the lab-leak question seriously was Donald McNeil, Jr., the veteran New York Times reporter forced out of the paper in an absurd DEI panic. After leaving the Times—and like several other writers pursuing the lab-leak question—McNeil published his reporting on his own Medium
blog. It is telling that, at a time when leading science publications
were averse to exploring the greatest scientific mystery of our time,
some of the most honest reporting on the topic was published in
independent, reader-funded outlets. It’s also instructive to note that
the journalist who replaced McNeil on the Covid beat at the Times, Apoorva
Mandavilli, showed open hostility to investigating Covid’s origins. In
2021, she famously tweeted: “Someday we will stop talking about the lab
leak theory and maybe even admit its racist roots. But alas, that day is
not yet here.” It would be hard to compose a better epitaph to the
credibility of mainstream science journalism.
As Shermer observed, many science journalists see their role not as
neutral reporters but as advocates for noble causes. This is especially
true in reporting about the climate. Many publications now have
reporters on a permanent “climate beat,” and several nonprofit
organizations offer grants
to help fund climate coverage. Climate science is an important field,
worthy of thoughtful, balanced coverage. Unfortunately, too many climate
reporters seem especially prone to common fallacies, including
base-rate neglect, and to hyping tenuous data.
The mainstream science press never misses an opportunity to ratchet up climate angst. No hurricane passes without articles warning of
“climate disasters.” And every major wildfire seemingly generates a
“climate apocalypse” headline. For example, when a cluster of Quebec
wildfires smothered the eastern U.S. in smoke last summer, the New York Times called it
“a season of climate extremes.” It’s likely that a warming planet will
result in more wildfires and stronger hurricanes. But eager to convince
the public that climate-linked disasters are rapidly trending upward,
journalists tend to neglect the base rate. In the case of Quebec
wildfires, for example, 2023 was a fluky outlier.
During the previous eight years, Quebec wildfires burned fewer acres
than average; then, there was no upward trend—and no articles discussing
the paucity of fires. By the same token, according to
the U.S. National Hurricane Center, a lower-than-average number of
major hurricanes struck the U.S. between 2011 and 2020. But there were
no headlines suggesting, say, “Calm Hurricane Seasons Cast Doubt on
Climate Predictions.”
Most climate journalists wouldn’t dream of drawing attention to data
that challenge the climate consensus. They see their role as alerting
the public to an urgent problem that will be solved only through
political change.
Similar logic applies to social issues. The social-justice paradigm
rests on the notion that racism, sexism, transphobia, and other biases
are so deeply embedded in our society that they can be eradicated only
through constant focus on the problem. Any people or institutions that
don’t participate in this process need to be singled out for criticism.
In such an atmosphere, it takes a particularly brave journalist to note
exceptions to the reigning orthodoxy.
This dynamic is especially intense in the debates over transgender medicine... Families facing treatment decisions for youth gender dysphoria
desperately need clear, objective guidance. They’re not getting it.
Instead, medical organizations and media outlets typically describe
experimental hormone treatments and surgeries as routine, and even
“lifesaving,” when, in fact, their benefits remain contested, while
their risks are enormous. In a series of articles, the Manhattan
Institute’s Leor Sapir has documented how trans advocates enforce this
appearance of consensus among U.S. scientists, medical experts, and many
journalists. Through social-media campaigns and other tools, these
activists have forced conferences to drop leading scientists, gotten
journals to withdraw scientific papers after publication, and interfered
with the distribution of Abigail Shrier’s 2020 book Irreversible Damage,
which challenges the wisdom of “gender-affirming care” for adolescent
girls. While skeptics are cowed into silence, Sapir concludes, those who
advocate fast-tracking children for radical gender therapy “will go
down in history as responsible for one of the worst medical scandals in
U.S. history.”
In such an overheated environment, it would be helpful to have a
journalistic outlet advocating a sober, evidence-based approach. In an
earlier era, Scientific American might have been that voice. Unfortunately, SciAm
today downplays messy debates about gender therapies, while offering
sunny platitudes about the “safety and efficacy” of hormone treatments
for prepubescent patients. For example, in a 2023 article,
“What Are Puberty Blockers, and How Do They Work?,” the magazine
repeats the unsubstantiated claim that such treatments are crucial to
preventing suicide among gender-dysphoric children...
Fortunately, glimmers of light are shining through on the gender-care controversy. The New York Times
has lately begun publishing more balanced articles on the matter, much
to the anger of activists. And various European countries have started
reassessing and limiting youth hormone treatments...
Scientific American has yet to offer an even-handed review of
the new scientific skepticism toward aggressive gender medicine.
Instead, in February, the magazine published an opinion column, “Pseudoscience Has Long Been Used to Oppress Transgender People.” Shockingly, it argues for even less
medical caution in dispensing radical treatments. The authors
approvingly note that “many trans activists today call for diminishing
the role of medical authority altogether in gatekeeping access to trans
health care,” arguing that patients should have “access to hormones and
surgery on demand.” And, in an implicit warning to anyone who might
question these claims and goals, the article compares today’s skeptics
of aggressive gender medicine to Nazi eugenicists and book burners.
Shortly after the Cass report’s release, SciAm published an interview with two activists who argue that scientists questioning trans orthodoxy are conducting “epistemological violence.”
There’s nothing wrong with vigorous debate over scientific questions.
In fact, in both science and journalism, adversarial argumentation is a
vital tool in testing claims and getting to the truth. “A bad idea can
hover in the ether of a culture if there is no norm for speaking out,”
Shermer says. Where some trans activists cross the line is in trying to
derail debate by shaming and excluding anyone who challenges the
activists’ manufactured consensus.
Such intimidation has helped enforce other scientific taboos. Anthony
Fauci called the scientists behind the Great Barrington Declaration “fringe epidemiologists”
and successfully lobbied to censor their arguments on social media.
Climate scientists who diverge from the mainstream consensus struggle to
get their research funded or published. The claim that implicit racial
bias unconsciously influences our minds has been debunked time and
again—but leading science magazines keep asserting it.
Scientists and journalists aren’t known for
being shrinking violets. What makes them tolerate this enforced
conformity? The intimidation described above is one factor. Academia and
journalism are both notoriously insecure fields; a single accusation of
racism or anti-trans bias can be a career ender. In many organizations,
this gives the youngest, most radical members of the community
disproportionate power to set ideological agendas.
“Scientists, science publishers, and science journalists simply
haven’t learned how to say no to emotionally unhinged activists,”
evolutionary psychologist Miller says. “They’re prone to emotional
blackmail, and they tend to be very naive about the political goals of
activists who claim that scientific finding X or Y will ‘impose harm’ on
some group.”
But scientists may also have what they perceive to be positive motives to self-censor. A fascinating recent paper
concludes: “Prosocial motives underlie scientific censorship by
scientists.” The authors include a who’s who of heterodox thinkers,
including Miller, Manhattan Institute fellow Glenn Loury, Pamela
Paresky, John McWhorter, Steven Pinker, and Wilfred Reilly. “Our
analysis suggests that scientific censorship is often driven by
scientists, who are primarily motivated by self-protection, benevolence
toward peer scholars, and prosocial concerns for the well-being of human
social groups,” they write.
Whether motivated by good intentions, conformity, or fear of
ostracization, scientific censorship undermines both the scientific
process and public trust. The authors of the “prosocial motives” paper
point to “at least one obvious cost of scientific censorship: the
suppression of accurate information.” When scientists claim to represent
a consensus about ideas that remain in dispute—or avoid certain topics
entirely—those decisions filter down through the journalistic food
chain. Findings that support the social-justice worldview get amplified
in the media, while disapproved topics are excoriated as disinformation.
Not only do scientists lose the opportunity to form a clearer picture
of the world; the public does, too. At the same time, the public notices
when claims made by health officials and other experts prove to be
based more on politics than on science. A new Pew Research poll
finds that the percentage of Americans who say that they have a “great
deal” of trust in scientists has fallen from 39 percent in 2020 to 23
percent today...
Unfortunately, progressive activists today begin with their preferred
policy outcomes or ideological conclusions and then try to force
scientists and journalists to fall in line. Their worldview insists
that, rather than challenging the progressive orthodoxy, science must
serve as its handmaiden. This pre-Enlightenment style of thinking used
to hold sway only in radical political subcultures and arcane corners of
academia. Today it is reflected even in our leading institutions and
science publications. Without a return to the core principles of
science—and the broader tradition of fact-based discourse and debate—our
society risks drifting onto the rocks of irrationality."
The 2022 article mentioned in the post was where "Scientific" American was claiming the lab leak theory was a "conspiracy theory" and "disinformation" and called it dangerous. Clearly science proceeds by ignoring and censoring alternative views.
Related: "Scientific" American's claim that saying that you can't sleep in public is somehow criminalising human biology.