Taubes & the Semmelweis Reflex
Here's a current example of the Semmelweis Reflex: today's ongoing diet wars.
Gary Taubes is an award-winning science journalist whose New York Times Magazine article, What if it's all been a big fat lie?, sparked a firestorm of controversy. In his article, and in his subsequent book Good Calories, Bad Calories, Taubes argues that
(a) the USA's dietary science community (henceforth, the "dietary Establishment") has accepted a single hypothesis as its guiding paradigm despite a lack of credible supporting evidence; and that
(b) an alternative hypothesis fits the observed facts much better, and is supported by evidence that is more scientifically credible.
This two-hour video of Taubes presenting his ideas (at UC Berkeley) is a good overview of his 600-page book.
One might reasonably expect that a community of scientists, when presented with evidence supporting an alternative hypothesis, would be all too eager to design and perform experiments aimed at testing the validity of this alternative, in order to determine the objective truth. After all, a "scientist" is, by definition, someone who practices the scientific method, which is all about the formulation and testing of hypotheses.
But that would be naïve. Instead, the response of the dietary Establishment was, and continues to be, a classic example of the Semmelweis Reflex in action. When Taubes' article and book were published, the dietary Establishment's immune system went into overdrive, engaging in every possible defense against the invading hypothesis and anyone who might sympathize with it. These immune responses weren't coldy rational, but were instead hotly personal.
For example, the dietary Establishment excoriated Taubes for getting a $700,000 advance for his book Good Calories, Bad Calories. They chose to view this as "selling out" rather than being, in effect, a research grant. The dietary Establishment did the same thing to Dr. Robert Atkins, who similarly challenged the validity of its prevailing hypothesis for 30 years starting in the 1970's. The dietary Establishment doled out generous servings of federal research funds to supporters of its chosen hypothesis, but not to anyone who might seriously challenge that hypothesis, such as Dr. Atkins. Instead, they said that he could fund his own experiments from the sales of his diet book. Of course, had he done so, then the Establishment would have discounted those studies' results as "advocacy," due to their not having been funded by an "unbiased" source. It was a classic Catch-22.
Maybe the Establishment's prevailing hypothesis is right; maybe Taubes' alternative hypothesis is right. We don't know, because so far, the dietary Establishment has refused to fund the kinds of experiments that might reveal the objective truth. Why should it? It already knows the objective truth, after all, as the defenders of any discipline's dominant paradigm inevitably claim to do.
When I was getting a BS in Geology back in the late 1970's, many of my professors were adamantly opposed to the newfangled plate tectonics hypothesis. They were invicibly ignorant, clinging to the previously-dominant geosyncline hypothesis despite mounting evidence against it.
On the one hand, this was an exciting introduction to paradigm shifts; on the other, I ended up with a weird education, half-geosyncline and half-tectonics.
I suspect that this experience has led me to be unusually open to criticisms of any domain's dominant paradigm, whether in geology, diet, music, or anything else.
Go, Taubes! As the Romans would have said, Fiat scientia, ruat coelum! That is, "Let science be done, though the heavens fall." :-)
[Interestingly, Google returns zero hits for the above-quoted English phrase. It is hard to imagine that I am the first to think of applying the well-known judicial phrase "Let justice be done, though the heavens fall" to a scientific context, as this result implies.]
[Also -- lest my Latin teacher spin in her grave -- let me point out that the Latin word scientia translates more to "knowledge" than to the modern concept of "science." Gimme just a little poetic license, OK?]
Gary Taubes is an award-winning science journalist whose New York Times Magazine article, What if it's all been a big fat lie?, sparked a firestorm of controversy. In his article, and in his subsequent book Good Calories, Bad Calories, Taubes argues that
(a) the USA's dietary science community (henceforth, the "dietary Establishment") has accepted a single hypothesis as its guiding paradigm despite a lack of credible supporting evidence; and that
(b) an alternative hypothesis fits the observed facts much better, and is supported by evidence that is more scientifically credible.
This two-hour video of Taubes presenting his ideas (at UC Berkeley) is a good overview of his 600-page book.
One might reasonably expect that a community of scientists, when presented with evidence supporting an alternative hypothesis, would be all too eager to design and perform experiments aimed at testing the validity of this alternative, in order to determine the objective truth. After all, a "scientist" is, by definition, someone who practices the scientific method, which is all about the formulation and testing of hypotheses.
But that would be naïve. Instead, the response of the dietary Establishment was, and continues to be, a classic example of the Semmelweis Reflex in action. When Taubes' article and book were published, the dietary Establishment's immune system went into overdrive, engaging in every possible defense against the invading hypothesis and anyone who might sympathize with it. These immune responses weren't coldy rational, but were instead hotly personal.
For example, the dietary Establishment excoriated Taubes for getting a $700,000 advance for his book Good Calories, Bad Calories. They chose to view this as "selling out" rather than being, in effect, a research grant. The dietary Establishment did the same thing to Dr. Robert Atkins, who similarly challenged the validity of its prevailing hypothesis for 30 years starting in the 1970's. The dietary Establishment doled out generous servings of federal research funds to supporters of its chosen hypothesis, but not to anyone who might seriously challenge that hypothesis, such as Dr. Atkins. Instead, they said that he could fund his own experiments from the sales of his diet book. Of course, had he done so, then the Establishment would have discounted those studies' results as "advocacy," due to their not having been funded by an "unbiased" source. It was a classic Catch-22.
Maybe the Establishment's prevailing hypothesis is right; maybe Taubes' alternative hypothesis is right. We don't know, because so far, the dietary Establishment has refused to fund the kinds of experiments that might reveal the objective truth. Why should it? It already knows the objective truth, after all, as the defenders of any discipline's dominant paradigm inevitably claim to do.
When I was getting a BS in Geology back in the late 1970's, many of my professors were adamantly opposed to the newfangled plate tectonics hypothesis. They were invicibly ignorant, clinging to the previously-dominant geosyncline hypothesis despite mounting evidence against it.
On the one hand, this was an exciting introduction to paradigm shifts; on the other, I ended up with a weird education, half-geosyncline and half-tectonics.
I suspect that this experience has led me to be unusually open to criticisms of any domain's dominant paradigm, whether in geology, diet, music, or anything else.
Go, Taubes! As the Romans would have said, Fiat scientia, ruat coelum! That is, "Let science be done, though the heavens fall." :-)
[Interestingly, Google returns zero hits for the above-quoted English phrase. It is hard to imagine that I am the first to think of applying the well-known judicial phrase "Let justice be done, though the heavens fall" to a scientific context, as this result implies.]
[Also -- lest my Latin teacher spin in her grave -- let me point out that the Latin word scientia translates more to "knowledge" than to the modern concept of "science." Gimme just a little poetic license, OK?]
Labels: disruptive innovation, paradigm

