Broken Hearts and Dubious Studies pt. 2

What brought me to my chosen career was a belief that maybe I could do some good without sinking into the "publish or perish" trap I saw so many others fall into. As an undergraduate I rotated through a medical technology course at a local hospital, where I saw some incidents that led me to decide that practical medicine was not for me. As a high school teacher, I saw the depths to which the educational system could plunge to insure public funding at the expense of real, rigorous education in the sciences and elsewhere. After graduate school, I was immediately hired to instruct a variety of courses in college and there I decided that this was where I really belong. I was already 30 years old when I entered my doctorate program so, like an athlete of similar age, it seemed to be that I was considered almost "past my prime." I am sure that while many of the courses I took were necessary to insure that my metriculation as a "scientist" were worthy, I realize now that they were probably nothing more than a part of the trial by fire that all graduate students must face in order to assure that the mighty title Doctor of Philosophy is given only to those chosen few who really do have the scientific equivalent of Tom Wolfe's "Right Stuff." Once, at a meeting of the Ecological Society of America where I was to give a talk, I was shown a large chart that traced the succession of American ecologists from the beginnings of the field. I was on that chart, even though I had yet to publish my dissertation or my first peer-reviewed article as primary author. It was obvious that great things were expected of me, even though I had assured my major professor that after graduation my real goal was to teach- not research. After my dissertation defense, I was informed that while I was an excellent instructor, I was a "poor researcher," to which I replied "I already know that, but did I pass?" Yes I did. Not only that, but later, when my dissertation and subsequent research was published, it was well-received and cited. I've done very little hard research since, concentrating instead on trying to turn out well-informed students and champion better science education in my own small way. Increasingly, this has included taking a hard look at science both in the positive and negative sense. I will never publish a hundred papers before I die. I will not be remembered in the vast halls of science. But what I will do is pass on what I have learned for others to judge themselves. And that is enough.

Science progresses with or without the Dr. Joes of the world. This progression is rife with controversy, back-biting, and sometimes bitterness, as was expressed by one of my professors in an early graduate class who assured us that we really did not want a thankless job like his. He was, of course, correct. What we wanted was to be great- to become tops in our field, champions with diplomas and heaps of awards and papers to prove it. As I mentioned earlier, I was pedigreed even before publishing so I had to be something special. The pressure to prove oneself in academia can be more intense than the average person will ever believe. Is it suprising then that data is sometimes fudged, finagled, massaged or transformed to make it "fit" one's expectations, thus become something worth publishing? Personally, I have come to develop a great respect for the science of statistical analysis and when making comparisons of significant data tend to use very conservative techniques such as the HSD (Honestly Significant Difference) of Tukey when analyzing findings. Practice what you preach. I tell students that even if something is not significant, it is still important. A lack of difference in findings is in itself just as informative about how nature works as any other discovery. We should report all of our findings honestly, because if we don't the consequences can be great.

As implied by the title of this post, I want to return to the previous study about "broken hearts" and heart disease. A small study, done with a small sample size, yet ballyhooed out of all proportion by the press. We all want publicity since it is that notice that stimulates interest, which in turn stimulates support, which in turn stimulates money for more research. My concern is that if such studies are not more thoroughly reviewed before release, policy and diagnostic decisions might be modeled from it that will have unwanted consequences. Now, I'm not saying that the findings are wrong- I did not do the study and am not an MD- I am saying that we should have more care to insure that there is a great degree of statistical certainty before releasing our findings.