Do we care about the truth?
By Nigel Hawkes
Copyright 1999 The Times (UK)
February 19, 1999
 Our fears over genetically modified foods have been
fuelled by a media frenzy 
and inaccurate reporting, says Science Editor 
Nigel Hawkes 
 The scare over genetically modified food has been a
classic example of a 
little-studied phenomenon, the media feeding frenzy. From small
starts, 
frenzies 
quickly develop a terrible momentum. Sense and judgment are the
first 
casualties; public understanding the final victim. For as long as
it lasts, 
readers and viewers are buried in a blizzard of stories that
compete to paint 
apocalyptic visions of horrors to come. Politicians shamelessly
join in. Then, 
like 
a tap being turned off, it stops.  
 Absolutely the finest example in my experience was the
flesh-eating bug which 
transfixed the press in the summer of 1994. This was a strain of
Streptococcus 
capable of killing those unlucky enough to be infected with it. 
 There was nothing new about the organism or the symptoms
it caused, which had 
been beautifully described in a surgical 
journal by a doctor working in Shanghai as long ago as 1919. Nor
was there any 
real evidence of an epidemic, or even a significant increase in the
number of 
cases. Yet for a week or two the flesh-eating bug made huge
headlines. Then it 
was gone - and hardly 
a word has appeared on the subject since. 
 The GM-food frenzy was triggered by a two-page spread in
The Guardian on 
February 12, claiming that tests on GM potatoes had damaged rats
which had 
eaten them. Curiously, an almost identical article which had
appeared in The 
Mail on Sunday at the end of January had passed unnoticed. 
 The Guardian article, despite its length, did not address
two key issues: that 
the GM potatoes tested were not intended as human food, and would
never have 
passed muster as such; and that the gene inserted into them was for
a toxin. 
Small wonder, perhaps, that they 
might have had damaging effects on the rats, though whether they
actually did 
is still in dispute. By all normal journalistic standards, the
story was holed 
below the waterline. 
 But it made no difference. The controversy quickly took
wing, sprouting 
subplots and generating a tremendous row more or 
less about nothing. As it happens, GM foods have been better
monitored and 
controlled in Britain than anywhere else in the world. Small trial
plots are 
all that have been planted. No illeffects to health have been
observed, nor are 
they likely. Possible environmental effects are being carefully
monitored. Is 
this the impression left by the 
row? I think not. 
 Frenzies are caused partly by bad reporting, but could
only happen in an 
environment ripe for them. We live in a society increasingly
anxious about 
risks, real and imaginary, as the sociologist Frank Furedi has
pointed out in 
his book The 
Culture of Fear. He cites a study of the medical literature which
showed that 
in the five-year period between 1967 and 1972, about 1,000 articles
containing 
the word risk were published. In the period between 1986 and 1991,
there were 
80,000 such articles. 
 Had risks increased eightyfold in such a short 
time? Clearly not. We live in a far less risky time than our
parents or 
grandparents. Today fewer than one woman in 10,000 dies in
childbirth: in 1940, 
one in 300 did. The disappearance of the Soviet Union is the
greatest risk 
reduction in our lifetimes; but 
better drugs, a more plentiful diet, social security and other
changes have 
also cut the ordinary risks of life. 
 What has changed is attitude to risk. At a time when most
risks are actually 
declining, people are worrying more. But they lack the skill to
assess risks, 
to develop a true 
calculus of risk in which real dangers are distinguished from mere
scares. 
Driving a car is far more dangerous than flying, but we seldom hear
of people 
with driving-phobia. 
 The second reason comes closer to home for journalists. It
sounds pompous to 
say so, but today's 
journalists are not much interested in the truth. As the American
academic 
Peter Sandman of Rutgers University in New York puts it: 
"In the epistemology of routine journalism, there is no truth,
or at least no 
way to determine truth. There are only conflicting claims, to be
covered as 
fairly as possible." 
 
So journalists feel they have done their job if they quote both
sides of an 
argument, 
"tossing the hot potato of truth into the lap of the
audience", as Sandman says. This approach has the effect of
giving all sources equal 
value, of making the most outrageous claims seem credible - and a
lot more 
interesting - than the 
sober responses elicited from official sources. 
 Nobody would want to deny a hearing to those opposed to GM
foods, but crying 
wolf is seldom sensible, unless a wolf is truly at the door. If one
believed 
all the scares floated by environmentalists and health campaigners,
one would 
never 
set foot out of doors, though, of course, that would still leave
one the option 
of falling down stairs. 
 Newspapers that join in a feeding frenzy put their
reputations at risk and 
earn the contempt of readers who know about the subject. Worse,
they help to 
create an atmosphere of 
fear which could threaten the forces which have made life less
risky in the 
past century. Fortunately, I suspect that most readers treat
frenzies with the 
disdain they deserve.
Comments on this posting?
Click here to
post a public comment on the Trash Talk
Bulletin Board.
Click here to send a private
comment to the Junkman.