© the other press ¢ Opinions <> Science -~Matters Honesty Takes A Backseat To Our Relentless Pursuit Of More March 17, 2004 David Suzuki David Suzuki Foundation Corporate scan- dals, political scandals, jour- fabricating stories, researchers fudging data— does afhyone ever tell the truth anymore? It certainly seems to have suffered of late. From the Bush administration’s appar- ently mythical weapons of mass destruction to New York Times reporter Jayson Blair’s confessions of having invent- ed sources, the truth has become a casualty of our fast- moving 24/7 Certainly, it’s still out there, but more and more often it seems that what we are accepting is a stripped-down racing version of the truth—a low-carb truth lite, if you will. We just seem to be too busy to look for the thoughtful, challenging answers that are more accurate and more hon- est. Instead, we are obsessed with “the latest thing,” be it a technological gizmo, scientific breakthrough or fad. We want the hottest clothes. We trust the latest diet, the latest news, and the latest trend. The world is a confusing place, and we want quick answers— the simpler the better. Scientists are not immune to this incessant pressure to make news and make waves. Recently, ten of the original 13 authors of a 1998 report published in the journal, The Lancet, retracted the paper's conclusion that there was a link between autism and the childhood combined MMR vaccine for measles, mumps, and rubella. The original report made headlines and many parents opted not to vaccinate their children. Some health experts are concerned that reduced vaccination rates could lead to more outbreaks of these diseases. In the March 6 retraction, the ten authors state, “no causal link was established between MMR vaccine and autism as the data were insuf- ficient.” ,The UK’s medical oversight body is also consid- ering an investigation into charges of conflict of interest against one of the authors, who at the time was being paid by the country’s legal aid board to investigate whether parents could sue over a possi- ble connection MMR and autism. The MMR report isn’t the nalists culture. between only recent case of question- able scientific behavior. A recent report from the Committee on Publishing Ethics in the UK found 29 documented infractions over one year, ranging from trying to publish the same “original” paper in several different jour- nals, to plagiarism, to attempted bribery. One jour- nal published a paper on the effects of passive smoking, but did not disclose that it had been paid for by the tobacco industry, or that the author had at one time been a lobby- ist for the industry. Of course, just because the tobacco industry or a biotech- nology company, or an envi- ronmental organization fund- ed a paper, does not make its conclusions invalid. But knowing the source of that funding is crucial to the read- er’s ability to judge certain assumptions the researchers may have made. This kind of disclosure is essential for any honest interpretation of the conclusions to occur. Most scientists are honest, as are most journalists, doc- tors and people in general. But when a few choose to step over the line, there seems to be no shortage of consumers willing to accept the latest news as gospel. In the 21st- century, a new report or study literally comes out every minute—and with today’s media saturation, some news outlet, somewhere, will pick it up just as fast. Reporters are on the job 24 hours a day and there’s always a deadline approaching in some time zone. Science, technology, and culture have never been more intertwined, and our ability to communicate globally has never been so powerful. This calls for even more care and more diligence because wish- ful analyses and sloppy inter- pretations can quickly have profound repercussions. They can even start wars. Yet the pressure to succeed and “get ahead” has also never been greater. The disconnection between these two forces cre- ates a dangerous breeding ground for dishonesty and sets the stage for situations where truth is not the only casualty. Take the Nature Challenge and ~ learn more at . CF Miley OP Contributor ‘And you may ask yourself Am I right?...Am I wrong? And you may say to yourself MY GOD!...WHAT HAVE I DONE?” —David Byrne, The Talking Heads Humans will almost always slow down to see the pain and aftermath of a car accident. If there is any chance to actu- ally see an accident occur, people will undoubtedly stare en masse. Ask any NASCAR fan why they watch. Ask any wrestling fan the same question. Wrestling is nothing if not a set of care- fully designed crashes, created to catch and hold our attention—all set to T&A, huge muscles, and loud music. Wrestling gives us a fractured mirror with a thousand variations on our own predictable reflection. We love watch- ing people bleed. We love seeing half- naked bodies. We want Stone Cold Steve Austin to beat the snot out of the loud-mouthed manager, just like we'd love to thrash some of the managers weve had in our own boring lives. Wrestling gives us our own bloodlust in the form of premeditated violence from which we cannot tear our gaze. Vince McMahon has become a billionaire by fulfilling our sickest desires, safely con- tained within a squared circle. I was raised on Saturday mornings in front of the tube watching Maple Leaf Wrestling, Stampede Wrestling, and, yes, the WWE. I remember eating enor- mous bowls of Fruit Loops while Ed Whalen called the latest match. I remember loving the Junk Yard Dog, Kamala the Ugandan Butcher, Ivan Putski, and all the other wrestlers. I remember the day I learned how to apply the figure-four leg lock. I remem- ber pile driving Jeff Lessard (who was four years my junior), and watching his body crumple awkwardly to the ground. I remember my relief when I realized that I hadn't broken his neck with my little stunt. That moment, I gave up emulating these superheroes I'd seen on TV. I out-grew watching aoa Page 8 hittp://www.otherpress.ca side the best. They seemed to know the wrestling shortly thereafter—until last Friday night that is. The Extreme Canadian Champion- ship Wrestling (ECCW) had come to New Westminster, and I decided to go, Two free tickets for the ECCW show ended up in my hands sometime Wednesday. By Thursday, I'd decided that this was a “must see,” and secured a friend to come along with me. I decided that if we were going to go, we should go in style, and looked high and low for two Mexican Wrestling masks. Unsuccessful in the search, I threw my old “Jason Voorhees-style” goalie mask in my backpack, along with a tape recorder, a camera, and a pen and paper. My buddy and I had a few beers, and left to catch the show. What a show it was. The crowd was basically split into three groups: ten to thirteen year-old kids and their families, a large contingent of adults from sever- al different group homes, and loud mouths there to scream and shake their fists at the wrestlers. I talked to a small cross-section from each group. I liked the folks who were a bit on the slow ‘Tm not a role model, but I have played one on television.” —Vince McMahon, Owner and CEO, World Wrestling Entertainment most about the wrestlers (and the cir- cuit), and were quite obviously having a fantastic time. They knew every wrestler’s name, every storyline, and the smiles on their faces shone like the sun itself. We saw Scotty Mac take a vicious chair shot from Fabio—the guy he’s wrestling in Cloverdale next week. We saw R.A.G.E. battle back to take Dropkick Murphy in a “Battle of the Big Men.” We chanted, yelled, and booed our way through to the main event. Vance Nevada and Disco Fury teamed up to face Matt Borne (a Hacksaw Jim Duggan look-alike) and Moondog Manson in a tag team grudge match. Where the grudge was born, I do not know. What I do know is that I donned my hockey mask, moved for- ward, and started screaming like a lunatic. The mentally challenged people and young kids began to stare at me with strange expressions on their faces. It finally donned on me that I was too loud to be “just a fan.” I was too weird to not be part of the show. I also real- ized that the loudmouths beside me were suddenly silent. The mask gave me the anonymity I needed to let loose and be a total goof. I began chanting, “Moondog, Moondog, Moondog,” louder and louder. I felt an incredible sense of liberation. For fifteen minutes, I understood the lure of wrestling again. Behind my mask, I got into character— the character of someone who loves wrestling. I believed. Between yelling “whooooo,” and “kick his ass,” I returned to my sugary cereal and Saturday morning entertainment. I remembered Tito Santana, Big John Studd, and Hulk-a-mania. It was an almost transcendental experience. The match ended with Matte Borne pinning Disco Fury for the win. After a few more cheers, we left as the wrestlers were passing around the hat, promising to “kick some more ass” if the crowd would chip in $100. As I pulled off the mask, I remembered Jeff Lessard. I remembered the sick crunch of his head smashing into the ground. I remem- bered him just lying there, not moving for seconds that seemed like hours. I remembered the way my own tears made me turn away from my buddies, embarrassed to be seen crying, and rush home. The next time I see an accident, whether inside a ring or on the road, I will not stare. I don’t need to see that kind of pain or destruction any more these days. Fake tits and fake muscles don’t do it for me. Screw you, ECCW. Screw you too, WWE. Screw you and your premeditated violence, lame story- lines, and scantily clad Barbies. The next time I see Jeff Lessard, I’m going to tell him I’m sorry. I’m going to tell him the lesson I learned that day at his expense—beware of who (or what) you emulate in life—you may actually become it. Crippling people is not cool. Photo by CF Miley