Earthing Unearthed

Sometimes I feel disconnected. It’s almost as if I have been traveling on a highway all my life, largely unaware of the myriad roads that emanate from it. Unaware of the different coloured horizons that have been hiding out there all along. Or is skulking sometimes a better descriptor? Every so often I come across a concept so… bizarre, that I wonder how it even survived long enough to acquire a name. ‘Earthing’ caught my attention immediately.

I feel I have to explain that I don’t go looking for these things, but in the spirit of full disclosure I will confess to being a one-time member of the Skeptics Society –one time, I suppose, because the time constraints of a busy medical practice required that I relinquish at least some of my addenda. Now, retired and awash in compensatory time, I dabble once again.

‘Earthing’, for those of you as naïve as myself, is the act of walking barefoot –not just on the beach or over the soft grass of a lawn, however. It is to soak up earth’s energy fields previously denied to you –blocked, in effect- by your shoes. These energy fields apparently supply free electrons replete with many health benefits. Shoes, as disruptors, ‘[…] allegedly cause inflammation and autoimmune diseases, circadian rhythm disruptions, hormonal disorders, cortisol disorders, heart rate variability problems, arthritis, herpes, hepatitis, insomnia, chronic pain, exhaustion, stress, anxiety, premature aging […].’ http://www.skeptic.com/reading_room/bogus-claims-grounding-bare-feet-to-earth/ Uhmm…

How could I have journeyed so far along the trail of years and not heard this coming up behind me? Call me old fashioned, if you will –or just ‘old’, perhaps- but I would still feel more comfortable if there were credible, corroborative and objective evidence to substantiate assertions before I even decide to consider them -let alone examine them seriously… Anybody can claim things, but as Carl Sagan once declared: ‘extraordinary claims, require extraordinary evidence’.

Now I have to say that just because something seems counterintuitive, I don’t think it should be simply dismissed out of hand. Paradigms do shift, after all. But they still require critical analysis; it is not enough to suggest that, as in the case of homeopathy, for example, any attempt to verify it destroys the field in which it exists. Nor are statements like, ‘It may be that our connection with the earth carries information, helping align us with the greater network of intelligence of our planet.’ either provable, or refutable –the famous philosopher of Science, Karl Popper’s belief that what distinguishes science from pseudoscience is its potential for refutation. For example, to say that all swans are white, only holds until a black one is found. The assertion –if properly attested by observations- is scientific in that the demonstration of even one black swan is able to refute it.

But, academic considerations aside, there is something troubling about ‘Earthing’ and its ilk. That something like this arose at all is, I suppose, a function of the random accretion of isolated and misunderstood bits and pieces of our complex modern world that are only describable in metaphor –as in, say, electrons are the carriers of electricity. True, as far as it goes, I guess, but misleading if taken as literal. Maybe some shoes –all shoes?- may block electrons… But so what?

Just try and understand the electric fields on the earth and in the atmosphere. As an example, a description from (shudder) Wikiversity: ‘The Earth is negatively charged, carrying 500,000 Coulombs (C) of electric charge (500 kC), and is at 300,000 volts (V), 300 kV, relative to the positively charged ionosphere. There is a constant flow of electricity, at around 1350 amperes (A) [approximately 1100 A], and resistance of the Earth’s atmosphere is around 220 Ohms. This gives a power output of around 400 megawatts (MW), which is ultimately regenerated by the power of the Sun that affects the ionosphere, as well as the troposphere, causing thunderstorms. The electrical energy stored in the Earth’s atmosphere is around 150 gigajoules (GJ). The Earth-ionosphere system acts as a giant capacitor, of capacity 1.8 Farads. The Earth’s surface carries around -1 nC of electric charge per square meter’. Do you see why most of us non-experts are dependant on metaphor? And why explanations such as this about ‘constant flow of electricity’ unaccompanied by suitable annotations may lead to some unfortunate and perhaps misguided applications?

On the other hand, I think that trying to dissuade gullible adherents requires some tact. Attempts to ridicule them by referring to the authors of a book on the subject: Earthing. The most important health discovery ever? and saying ‘None of the book’s authors is a physicist— it shows.’ is just ad hominem. Or suggesting that scientific credentials are not available: ‘The studies were not published in mainstream journals. They involved small numbers of subjects and usually failed to use any controls.’ While true -and to those of us with any acquaintance with how science works, compellingly obvious- it likely fails to convince those who mistrust the scientific paradigm and its lack of certainty to start with. And it may antagonize them to the point of utter rejection of any meaningful dialogue. It becomes another us-and-them standoff.

So, what to do? Tolerate or proselytize? Divide and conquer? Provoke and legislate…?

Perhaps it’s my age, but I’ve seen many fads arise and then dissipate like waves on a beach, with any one of them having about as much individual significance. Think of alien abduction, recovered memory therapy, pet rocks… Each seems to have a brief super nova-like appearance, and is intriguing for a while, and then, when a new star is born, interest flags. Social media may extend the lifespan, perhaps, but novelty is usually trump for those attracted to the fringe belief realms. I’ve learned not to obsess on what I consider the irrational; I will attempt to educate, but not to the point of taking arms against a sea of trouble and by opposing, ending them –as Hamlet would have us decide. If they are not harmful, then they will, as certain as the tide, recede.

In the turmoil of this uncertain world I think we all try to find secure and novel refuge, and when the storm has passed, set out again. It’s what we do –Shakespeare again: ‘Wise men ne’er sit and wail their loss, but cheerily seek how to redress their harms.

Earthing, with benign neglect, may itself be unearthed…

 

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Scientific Gynaecology

Damn! They did it again –just when I thought I’d finally got it straight about why HDL was the ‘good’ cholesterol and how beneficial it is, they changed it on me. Well, modified it, I guess. Lipoproteins are molecules that carry fats (lipids like cholesterol and triglycerides) to and from cells in the body. HDL (High Density Lipoprotein), however, transfers these fats away from artery walls and so helps to decrease the accumulation in arteriosclerotic plaques that can cause heart attacks and strokes.

Okay, good. Eat foods rich in HDLs and Bob’s your uncle. Right? Uhmm, not so fast. At the 2015 annual meeting of the North American Menopause Society (NAMS) some scientists from the University of Pittsburgh studied 225 healthy women in their mid and late forties for almost 9 years. ‘The study revealed that elevated HDL levels during menopause were associated with increased atherosclerosis. “These findings suggest that the quality of HDL may be altered over the menopausal transition, thus rendering it ineffective in delivering the expected cardiac benefits”, said study author Samar Khoudary.

Researchers hypothesize that the hormonal changes may be associated with the modified effect of HDL, especially estradiol reduction’.

Great! Now what am I going to tell my patients? A lot of them are already confused by the plethora of conflicting data in the scientific literature to which Dr. Google so readily directs them. Don’t we know anything for certain anymore? For that matter, did we ever deal in certainties? It’s a question written in their eyes –a silent reproof for my previous dicta, a withering acknowledgement that doctors may not speak ex cathedra.

Well, the very nature of Science, is that it uses Inductive Logic to derive general principles from observations. So, as the usual example goes, if we only ever see crows that are black, then it seems reasonable to conclude that all crows are black –until, that is, someone sees a white crow. Or -my favourite: ‘absence of evidence is not necessarily evidence of absence’. As Karl Popper insisted, Scientific knowledge should always be able to be falsified with contrary evidence. Hence, it is usually couched in statistics to reflect the probability of its truth.

It’s also why the world is so exciting: there are always surprises.

But Juna was unimpressed. For her, the purpose of Life was to hunt for certainty and then cling to it like a parental hand. She seemed resistant to any prescriptive opinion that I offered although she would always listen politely and smile at the appropriate times. Then she would offer her personal assessment of where she felt her problem lay as if it were a debate that required equal time for rebuttal. Equal consideration for the opposing side.

“That’s very interesting, doctor,” was how she would start her counter-argument. Then would come the pause. “But, isn’t it possible that there could be another way of looking at the same issue?”

And then she would have me; there’s always another way of looking at something.

She’d notice my expression, smile mischievously and continue the attack. “I mean, how can we say for certain that diet doesn’t play a major role in yeast acquisition?” And she would sit back in her chair, cross her arms like a prosecuting attorney and challenge me to counter that.

Whenever I apprise my colleagues of what goes on in my office, they always tell me that I shouldn’t run it like a courtroom, but I have to admit that I’m often curious to hear the opinions of the other side.

Juna was always delightfully provocative; she seemed to sense where the boundary was and although she’d sometimes reach across it, she never stayed for long. “You guys always seem to get it wrong, doctor,” she volunteered one time with a twinkle in her eyes. She had recently crossed the threshold into menopause and was intrigued both by the changes and the variety of opinions as to what to do about it.

I raised one eyebrow -our signal that I was willing to engage- and smiled. “I mean, look at the fiasco over hormone replacement…” she said, pretending confusion.

“We still use them occasionally.” I felt I had to defend them for some reason, although I hadn’t prescribed them for a long time. But the look of disbelief on her face –a mother listening to her son’s feeble defence- demanded an explanation.

“Knowledge is constantly expanding, Juna. What we believe today may be superseded by additional knowledge tomorrow.”

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow –she loved the gesture. “Then is it knowledge that is expanding, or simply conjecture?”

I rolled my eyes –the necessary next step in the process. “Science is conjecture in a way. It gathers together observations and tries to make sense of them with a general principle –a conjecture, if you will.”

She shook her head slowly –a teacher confronting a slow pupil. “If things are always subject to change, then how am I to decide? What am I to believe?”

I sighed politely. Philosophers have been wrestling with the same problem for millennia and Juna wanted a definitive resolution in the thirty minutes I had allotted in my busy day for her appointment. Things were getting out of control. “Using current knowledge…” I started slowly, choosing my words carefully as I tip-toed through the minefield she had set in front of me. “… is sort of like a buying a car. Despite how advanced the current model is, there are usually improvements in a new one… So, even if you need it, do you never buy one because it will soon be out of date?”

Her face stayed neutral as she thought about it. Sometimes even a desperately conceived metaphor can accomplish what erudition finds difficult.

“You mean like Ovid’s All things change; nothing perishes?”

I have to admit I’d never heard that one before, but it sounded sort of like a concession.

“What’s past is prologue,” I tried to reply in kind, quoting Antonio from Shakespeare’s Tempest, but it was a feeble attempt -I’m just a gynaecologist after all. But she smiled nonetheless: a truce.