As Mark Twain observed: What a good thing Adam had- when he said a good thing, he knew nobody had said it before. I don’t know about you, but I am getting tired of the media reporting on studies that contain nothing new and passing them off as fresh and enlightening. Even more upsetting is the fact that we often don’t even notice -or care… Studies that say nothing fresh or merely recycle what we already know, do not contain information so much as noise.
Time, then, to ask a more searching question: why is it important that we study this? And this is not to denigrate pure science, nor to suggest that investigations that are not directly goal-oriented are worthless. There is much value in answering the question by asserting that we were simply curious how it worked. Or why. Or under what circumstances -all of which are adding to our understanding of the world. Curiosity, after all, is merely a yet-unaswered question. A piece of the knowledge jigsaw puzzle. And its answer may well be worthy of reportage…
But to investigate the wheel and then conclude that it likely works by rolling, does nothing to inform. Indeed, publication of the results does little even to entertain, let alone educate… Or perhaps it does entertain -like those endless cat videos on Youtube, maybe there is value to a mindless occupation of the time that stretches between otherwise meaningful events. But the whole endeavour smacks more of playing cards until someone turns out the lights…
What is it that has me so vexed? So frustrated at banality uncleverly disguised as news? Well, I happened upon an article in the BBC ‘News’ about breast feeding and how it decreased the risk of depression. http://www.bbc.com/news/health-28851441 It seemed a reasonable hypothesis; almost 14,000 mothers were studied and the results published in the online journal Maternal and Child Health (Aug. 21/14).
It’s a rather complicated statistical paper, but in summary it suggests that the risk of depression after delivery decreases considerably if the mother was healthy to start with, intended to breast feed and found that she could. Okay, I could have predicted that. But, if she had been healthy, intended to breast feed, but found she couldn’t for some reason, her risk of depression more than doubled. Oh yes, and they found that “the beneficial effects of breast feeding were strongest at 8 weeks after birth and that the association was weaker at 8 months and onwards.” Uhmm… am I missing something here? Has something hitherto unsuspected slipped past me? Something, at least, that would change attitudes to breast feeding, or management plans for pregnancy?
Post partum depression is a serious problem in our society, with up to 10% (or more) of women at risk. That’s why we screen women during early and mid pregnancy to anticipate that risk and attempt to set up support systems for those who we judge are on that path. Anything that might ameliorate the danger is therefore a valuable addition to our management strategies. I’m not sure this study has even re-invented the wheel, however. It seems to demonstrate that if a mother’s plans work out, she is happy, if they don’t, she isn’t… Is it helpful to know this? Perhaps -but does it change anything? I suspect we will all continue to encourage mothers to breast feed and regard the oxytocin it engenders -the bonding hormone- a plus. But not an unanticipated one. Nothing has changed…
But then again, maybe constant reiteration –permananent recycling- is what we want. What we deserve…Maybe a society that tolerates laugh-tracks on comedy programs to help them to know what is funny, and that thinks apparently spontaneous applause in a talk show demonstrates the merit of the discussion, needs to be apprised of the obvious.
Am I being too cynical? Too arrogant? Well, perhaps. And yet…
It was early Thursday evening, and I was sitting in the OR lounge waiting to do an emergency operation. A surgeon and her resident were sitting nearby, their faces glued to the ever-changing TV images in front of them. I thought at first it was a talk show but they were staring at the screen as if it were a parental avatar, their expressions religious, their attention rapt.
I had been too preoccupied until that point to notice, but they seemed so intense I suspected something of profound significance was being discussed so I turned to watch. It was actually a cooking show and some celebrity that I didn’t recognize was being shown the basics of barbecuing a hamburger. “First, you want to get the grill good and hot,” the serious looking man in the chef’s hat was saying, pointing at the thermometer on the hood. “Then, you carefully place the patty on the grill –use a spatula with a long handle so you don’t burn yourself- and sear one side just enough to keep the juices sealed in…” He said this in a hushed and reverent tone as if it were one of the Ten Commandments. The studio audience clapped in delight at this little pearl of wisdom, and I noticed the surgeon restraining herself from doing the same. Her resident, ever mindful of imitative protocol, actually did manage a clap after glancing furtively at her mentor.
The surgeon suddenly became aware of my presence in the room and smiled with an expression I used to see in church after a sermon. She seemed surprised at my composure in the face of the Revelation. Or maybe annoyed that I hadn’t understood. Actually, I was disappointed; I felt as if I’d just been told the earth was round.
And it wasn’t even the vapidity of the program that made me remember the incident –maybe some people don’t know how to barbecue hamburgers, so maybe the show deserved prime time. Maybe the information it contained truly was important and not just another example of mildly entertaining celebrity fluff. Not having watched what went before, perhaps it was just an inter regnum… But no, it was more the reaction to it. The surgeon and her acolyte seemed overly awed by its significance -as if they wouldn’t have been at all surprised if it were the subject of a research paper in a prestigious journal.
I suppose the depressing reality is that it is me who is so far off-kilter that I cannot appreciate something of value. That I mistake the important for the banal. Knowledge for noise. But I can’t help wondering who decided that a celebrity learning how to cook a hamburger should occupy prime time. Or wondering why a study showing that people may get depressed if things don’t work out as they planned surprises anyone.
We all need a time out, for sure: a time when we just unbutton the brain and let it sit on the couch beside us eating popcorn. But surely we also need a time in. I’m with Shakespeare on this: We know what we are, but know not what we may be.