A baloney detection kit

Surrounded by water on every side, it seems odd to say that the last two days of the voyage have been painfully dry. The culprit, however, is the lack of wind…

In an attempt to escape the depression – the very same one that apparently caused small tornadoes back on land – the captain set a course for the Gorringe Banks, 120 miles off Sagres. Up to that point, we had been flying along. Then we turned towards Madeira and even began to think we might stop there for a day, but we were caught by the calm that was sweeping up the remnants of the disturbance left behind by the depression. That’s what the captain explained.

For two days, we’ve been experiencing a perfectly smooth sea with no wind, imagining Madeira just over there on the horizon.

“We’re not exactly next to Madeira! We’re more than 200 miles away. That’s farther than the distance between Lisbon and Porto,” the captain clarified, as though that were supposed to make us feel any better.

Fortunately, the wind returned. The trouble is that we’re now heading further north to avoid another low-pressure system that is expected to pass west of the Azores on its way towards Madeira, and in doing so we’re trying to escape yet another patch of calm!

With all this long zigs and zags, there is a building impatience among the crew. After all, this is the fifth day with the four of us crammed into the same boat, and the prospect of a delay pleases no one. Personally, I am dying for a hot shower and a bed firmly planted on solid ground. I haven’t suffered from seasickness, but I have been careful to drink plenty of water and eat small amounts at a time.

With the purpose of staying hydrated, Campelo brought along a few soft drinks, which sparked a debate about the food industry.

“Plastic aside, what’s inside those things is pure poison. If you’re going to kill yourself, at least do it with a drink worthy of the name,” the captain joked.

“Some of my customers at the café ask for a Coke when they have diarrhoea,” said Zé Campelo.

“You see? That’s exactly the sort of nonsense that spreads across the internet like a plague these days,” remarked Carlos Sage. “Would you like to hear one of those stories?”

The three of us nodded, with the eager anticipation of a good story. I mean, even a Mexican tv soap would be welcomed at this point…

“The problem with claims about the beneficial effects of Coca-Cola is not only the sources, but also the motivations behind those sources. A few years ago, an article was published in a prestigious journal of pharmacology and nutritional therapeutics advocating the use of Coca-Cola to treat a particular stomach condition affecting roughly 0.4 per cent of the world’s population. Some kind of unclogging of the small intestine through the ingestion of Coca-Cola, supposedly allowing seeds, hair, and fibrous matter to dissolve…”

I shivered in desgust. 

“The so-called study consisted of searching for articles on Google and two medical search engines.”, he continued. “The articles had to report successful cases in which Coca-Cola had been used to treat the condition. They found forty-seven such cases, and in about half of them Coca-Cola appeared to work.

“Now, there are several problems with the publication of this study. Study… well, let’s call it a study to avoid insulting it with other terms.

“First, discussing the effect of Coca-Cola on that condition is rather like discussing the effect of a traditional “Cozido à Portuguesa” on the prevention of gout. You would need to isolate the ingredients to determine what is really producing the effect. Is it the smoked sausage or the cabbage, eh?

“Second, what the study fails to reveal is the number of cases in which Coca-Cola did not work and which were never documented or published. People are far more likely to publicly proclaim their successes than their failures.

“Third, a genuinely scientific study would have included a control group drinking something else while believing it was Coca-Cola, in order to compare the results.

“The worst part is that a miserable, self-intitled scientific article gets cited in the media as evidence that Coca-Cola can treat some medical condition. From there, it’s only a short step to claiming that Coca-Cola is actually good for your health.

“My dear Zé Campelo”, concluded Carlos “the food industry has been misleading consumers for years, unfortunately with the assistance of false scientists, just as the tobacco industry once did. When we’re back on land, I’ll send you an article from The Guardian about the subject.“

“It seems that myths are created in science as well, aren’t they?” observed Zé Campelo, winking at Carlos Sage.

“That risk exists in every field, but only because there are always people willing to sell their integrity. There are scientists, unfortunately more of them, who are thieves, fraudsters, and opportunists, willing to do anything for money, status, and personal gain. And that’s without even mentioning the way certain scientific paradigms remain unquestioned,” he lamented.

“So, Carlos,” asked Zé Campelo, half serious and half amused, “how can an ordinary mortal tell whether a theory is a brilliant discovery or a complete load of rubbish?”

Carlos leaned back against the helm seat with a conspiratorial expression while the wind gently lifted his greying hair.

“Ah, Zé Campelo… that’s exactly where I wanted to go. It’s time I shared my personal kit for detecting nonsense. An invisible toolbox, but an indispensable one in these times.”

The captain raised an eyebrow.

“Like a Swiss Army knife of reason?”

“Exactly, Captain. A genuine Swiss Army knife against deception and pseudoscience. Would you like to hear about it?”

Once again, we nodded, settling in for the lecture.

“Right then. The first tool: whenever possible, there should be independent confirmation of the facts. It’s not enough for someone to say they saw it, read it, or that it happened. Claims should be verifiable by others, preferably in a rigorous way.”

“It’s like that time my friend Alfredo claimed he’d caught a fish over a metre long off Calhetas, and the only evidence was a blurry photograph of him holding it very close to the camera,” Campelo remarked.

“Exactly,” Carlos laughed. “Without a ruler beside it or an impartial witness, we’re left with nothing but his word. And there isn’t an Alfredo alive who wouldn’t embellish a good story.”

We smirked at that.

“Next comes the need for open debate. No theory should be exempt from scrutiny. Whenever someone refuses to discuss an idea because ‘that’s just the way it is’, it’s worth raising an eyebrow.”

“A woman I met in Lagos used to say that the plants in her living room knew when she was sad,” said the captain.

“And how did she know that they knew?” asked Sage.

“Because one of them would always droop a leaf whenever she cried. I suggested it might be due to a lack of water. She replied, ‘Don’t be so insensitive, they suffer with me!'”

There was a general laughter.

“And there you have it,” Campelo pointed. “Debating with someone who accuses dissenters of lacking botanical empathy isn’t easy.”

“Very well observed.”, nodded Carlos. “Third tool: there are no absolute authorities. Even the greatest experts can be wrong. If Newton and Freud made mistakes, imagine the rest of us.”

“Like when we say the engine is making a strange noise and the mechanic hears something entirely different?” the captain suggested.

“Yes. Though in that case, it might be wise to find a second mechanic,” Carlos joked. “Fourth: consider multiple hypotheses. When you encounter a strange phenomenon, think of more than one possible explanation. And avoid clinging to the first one that appeals to you.”

“Ah! I like that one,” exclaimed Campelo. “Once there was water all over the floor of the café and a lady was certain the roof was leaking. We even called someone to inspect it. In the end, it turned out the mop bucket had tipped over.”

“Brilliant,” Carlos laughed. “Then there’s the importance of not being misled by false analogies. Just because two things seem similar doesn’t mean one explains the other.”

“Like comparing the human brain to a computer,” the captain pointed out.

“Precisely. Analogies can help us understand certain aspects of a phenomenon, but when we mistake them for complete explanations, we risk overlooking the true complexity of how the brain really works. Over the years we’ve compared the mind to water clocks, telephone switchboards, and all manner of machines.”

“Yet I’ve still to meet a computer with a headache.”, said Campelo with a wink.

“And there’s more. A good nonsense detector requires that the burden of proof always rests with the person making the extraordinary claim. It isn’t your job to prove that goblins don’t exist; it’s the job of the person who believes in them to demonstrate that they do.”

“This is wonderful,” murmured Campelo. “But the truth is that people out there love this sort of nonsense. They feed on it.”

“That’s why the most important tool of all is curiosity combined with scepticism. You must be willing to learn and willing to change your mind, but only when the evidence justifies it.”

The captain nodded slowly.

“The scientific approach as an attitude, not a profession. My old navigation instructor used to say that doubt is part of the journey.”

“And there are a few shortcuts for spotting nonsense more quickly. If someone uses technical terms without explaining them, be suspicious. If they promise results without effort, be careful. If they appeal to tradition saying ‘it’s always been done this way’ remember that people once bled patients to cure fevers.”

I shuddered at the thought.

Campelo gazed thoughtfully at the sky.

“I think I’ll make a sign to hang in the café. Warning: nonsense-free zone.”

“Good idea,” Carlos laughed. “But remember: the kit isn’t meant for mocking other people. It’s meant to protect us and, perhaps, inspire better conversations.”

A brief silence followed, filled by the gentle sound of the waves against the hull. The wind seemed to be returning.

“That’s why I maintain that what matters most is not the label of science or non-science, but the scientific approach itself. Fields such as anthropology and ethnography, which study the myths of different cultures, have produced genuinely scientific research.”

Zé Campelo nodded approvingly.

They’re becoming quite the pair. All the better for them. On an island like Santa Maria, with only four thousand inhabitants, it will be good for each of them to have someone to talk to.

Excluindo as imagens criadas pelo autor deste blog, as imagens utilizadas neste post têm as seguintes lincenças:

Imagem do post: Maria Mendiola https://unsplash.com/photos/qVvckBxWWds

Imagem “Açúcar”: Fredrik Ivansson https://unsplash.com/photos/person-with-red-lipstick-and-red-lipstick-5sDuOmdfoJE

Carl Sagan: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Carl_Sagan_Planetary_Society_cropped.png