If I got a gold nugget whenever someone said, “Studies show” or “Researchers discovered,” then, a) I’d have mountains of gold, and, b) I’d give it all away for people to be more honest about their information sources and their supposedly scientific methods. We save ourselves so much time, energy, and money by knowing the difference between evidence-based science and pseudoscience, between good and bad research.
During the California Gold Rush of the 1850s, a lot of hopeful people chased the prospect of easy money. Even today you can visit sites in the West where you pay to “pan for gold” in a stream of cold, silty water. Little kids—and adults—squat by the water’s edge and use a flattened metal sieve to search for gold. A kid—or an adult—will spot something shiny in their pan and squeal with triumph, and the others will crowd around the same spot and dig furiously into the streambed.
When we moved into a house in 2018, I was delighted by the 1970s appliances that came with it, particularly a gas stove. Not only did it have an enormous oven underneath the range, but also a smaller oven hanging above. Two ovens and a gas range! What luxury!
Alas, the gas stove has since struggled and the one remaining oven that works keeps making the fire alarm go off. Last month, I was about to start the search for a new one when the headlines rolled in: Science Finds Gas Stoves Cause Asthma in Kids! U.S. Government to Outlaw Gas Stoves! Random Guy on Twitter Says the Government Shall Never Take His Beloved Stove!
Imagine you’re sitting in science class. On the paper before you, there’s a homework problem you don’t understand.
You raise your hand to seek clarity, but the teacher responds, “Oh, that problem is easy! Just use your intuition.” The teacher then rattles off a bunch of specialized words—science jargon—you just learned.
“Thanks,” you say out loud, but your muddied thoughts are joined by the cold chill of shame: You’re more confused than ever, but because of fear, pride or both, you pretend to understand. Slouching deeper into your chair, you mentally check out for the rest of the lecture, maybe even the rest of the semester. If that was an “easy” problem, maybe science is not for you. Your curiosity in science, previously a roaring fire, sizzles and nearly dies.
By JAMIE ZVIRZDIN RICHFIELD SPRINGS – When I first visited my husband’s family in Richfield Springs back in 2007, my new grandma-in-law, Joyce Zvirzdin, told me what a thriving place Richfield Springs had been, how bustling the downtown area used to be—the restaurants, the spas, the shops, the cafés. I told her I wished I could have seen it.
Fast-forward to May 31, 2021, when the whole Zvirzdin family went to see the Memorial Day parade march down Main Street. It had rained that morning and I was freezing. Although I thoroughly enjoyed watching the various community groups in the parade—and the copious amounts of candy they threw out for our kids—I desperately wished for a hot coffee.
Jamie Zvirzdin crafted her latest work in the Richfield Springs Public Library.
By TED MEBUST
OLNEY, MD – Sitting alone in the back corner of the Richfield Springs Public Library, science writer and researcher Jamie Zvirzdin diligently crafted her latest publication, presumably with coffee in hand. It was October of 2018, six months since Zvirzdin and her son, Max, were forced to flee from Managua, Nicaragua following an outbreak of political upheaval that had flooded the capital’s streets with police and protestors. Her husband, Andrew, remained stationed there as one of the U.S. Embassy’s emergency personnel.
“I was teaching astronomy at the local college, and the president Ortega, started breaking up peaceful protests. It escalated very quickly, like within a week,” Zvirzdin explained.
