Photons vs print: the pitfalls of online science research for non-scientists

It's common knowledge that school teachers and university lecturers are tired of discovering that their students' research is often limited to one search phrase on Google or Bing. Ignoring the minimal amount of rewriting that often accompanies this shoddy behaviour - leading to some very same-y coursework - one of the most important questions to arise is how easy is it to confirm the veracity of online material compared to conventionally-published sources? This is especially important when it comes to science research, particularly when the subject matter involves new hypotheses and cutting-edge ideas.

One of the many problems with the public's attitude to science is that it is nearly always thought of as an expanding body of knowledge rather than as a toolkit to explore reality. Popular science books such as Bill Bryson's 2003 best-seller A Short History of Nearly Everything follow this convention, disseminating facts whilst failing to illuminate the methodologies behind them. If non-scientists don't understand how science works is it little wonder that the plethora of online sources - of immensely variable quality - can cause confusion?

The use of models and the concurrent application of two seemingly conflicting theories (such as Newton's Universal Gravitation and Einstein's General Theory of Relativity) can only be understood with a grounding in how the scientific method(s) proceed. By assuming that scientific facts are largely immutable, non-scientists can become unstuck when trying to summarise research outcomes, regardless of the difficulty in understanding the technicalities. Of course this isn't true for every theory: the Second Law of Thermodynamics is unlikely to ever need updating; but as the discovery of dark energy hints, even Einstein's work on gravity might need amending in future. Humility and caution should be the bywords of hypotheses not yet verified as working theories; dogma and unthinking belief have their own place elsewhere!

In a 1997 talk Richard Dawkins stated that the methods of science are 'testability, evidential support, precision, quantifiability, consistency, intersubjectivity, repeatability, universality, and independence of cultural milieu.' The last phrase implies that the methodologies and conclusions for any piece of research should not differ from nation to nation. Of course the real world intrudes into this model and so culture, gender, politics and even religion play their part as to what is funded and how the results are presented (or even which results are reported and which obfuscated).

For those who want to stay ahead of the crowd by disseminating the most recent breakthroughs it seems obvious that web resources are far superior to most printed publications, professional journals excepted - although the latter are rarely suitable for non-specialist consumption. The expenses associated with producing popular science books means that online sources are often the first port of call.

Therein lies the danger: in the rush to skim seemingly inexhaustible yet easy to find resources, non-professional researchers frequently fail to differentiate between articles written by scientists, those by journalists with science training, those by unspecialised writers, largely on general news sites, and those by biased individuals. It's usually quite easy to spot material from cranks, even within the quagmire of the World Wide Web (searching for proof that the Earth is flat will generate tens of millions of results) but online content written by intelligent people with an agenda can be more difficult to discern. Sometimes, the slick design of a website offers reassurance that the content is more authentic than it really is, the visual aspects implying an authority that is not justified.

So in the spirit of science (okay, so it's hardly comprehensive being just a single trial) I recently conducted a simple experiment. Having read an interesting hypothesis in a popular science book I borrowed from the library last year, I decided to see what Google's first few pages had to say on the same subject, namely that the Y chromosome has been shrinking over the past few hundred million years to such an extent that its days - or in this case, millennia - are numbered.

I had previously read about the role of artificial oestrogens and other disruptive chemicals in the loss of human male fertility, but the decline in the male chromosome itself was something new to me. I therefore did a little background research first. One of the earliest sources I could find for this contentious idea was a 2002 paper in the journal Nature, in which the Australian geneticist Professor Jennifer Graves described the steady shrinking of the Y chromosome in the primate order. Her extrapolation of the data, combined with the knowledge that several rodent groups have already lost their Y chromosome, suggested that the Home sapiens equivalent has perhaps no more than ten million years left before it disappears.

2003 saw the publication of British geneticist Bryan Sykes' controversial book Adam's Curse: A Future Without Men. His prediction based on the rate of atrophy in the human Y chromosome was that it will only last another 125,000 years. To my mind, this eighty-fold difference in timescales suggests that for these early days in its history, very little of the hypothesis could be confirmed with any degree of certainty.

Back to the experiment itself. The top results for 'Y chromosome disappearing' and similar search phrases lead to articles published between 2009 and 2018. They mostly fall into one of two categories: (1) that the Y chromosome is rapidly degenerating and that males, at least of humans and potentially all other mammal species, are possibly endangered; and (2) that although the Y chromosome has shrunk over the past few hundred million years it has been stable for the past 25 million and so is no longer deteriorating. A third, far less common category, concerns the informal polls taken of chromosomal researchers, who have been fairly evenly divided between the two opinions and thus nicknamed the "leavers" and the "remainers". Considering the wildly differing timescales mentioned above, perhaps this lack of consensus is proof of science in action; there just hasn't been firm enough evidence for either category to claim victory.

What is common to many of the results is that inflammatory terms and hyperbole are prevalent, with little in the way of caution you would hope to find with cutting-edge research. Article titles include 'Last Man on Earth?', 'The End of Men' and 'Sorry, Guys: Your Y Chromosome May Be Doomed ', with paragraph text contain provocative phrases such as 'poorly designed' and 'the demise of men'. This approach is friendly to organic search at the same time as amalgamating socio-political concerns with the science.

You might expect that the results would show a change in trend of time, first preferring one category and then the other, but this doesn't appear to be the case. Rearranged in date order, the search results across the period 2009-2017 include both opinions running concurrently. This year however has seen a change, with the leading 2018 search results so far only offering support to the rapid degeneration hypothesis. The reason for this difference is readily apparent: publication of a Danish study that bolsters support for it. This new report is available online, but is difficult for a non-specialist to digest. Therefore, most researchers such as myself would have to either rely upon second-hand summaries or, if there was enough time, wait for the next popular science book that discusses it in layman's terms.

As it is, I cannot tell from my skimming approach to the subject whether the new research is thorough enough to be completely reliable. For example, it only examined the genes of sixty-two Danish men, so I have no idea if this is a large enough sample to be considered valid beyond doubt. However, all of the 2018 online material I read accepted the report without question, which at least suggests that after a decade and a half of vacillating between two theories, there may now be an answer. Even so, by examining the content in the "remainers" category, I wonder how the new research confirms a long term trend rather than short term blip in chromosomal decline. I can't help thinking that the sort of authoritative synthesis found in the better sort of popular science books would answer these queries, such is my faith in the general superiority of print volumes!

Of course books have been known to emphasise pet theories and denigrate those of opponents, but the risk of similar issues for online content is far greater. Professor Graves' work seems to dominate the "leavers" category, via her various papers subsequent to her 2002 original, but just about every reference to them is contaminated with overly emotive language. I somehow doubt that if her research was only applicable to other types of animals, say reptiles, there would be nearly so many online stories covering it, let alone the colourful phrasing that permeates this topic. The history of the Y chromosome is as extraordinary as the chromosome itself, but treating serious scientific speculation - and some limited experimental evidence - with tabloid reductionism and show business hoopla won't help when it comes to non-specialists researching the subject.

There may be an argument here for the education system to systematically teach such basics as common sense and rigour, in the hopes of giving non-scientists a better chance of detecting baloney. This of course includes the ability to accurately filter online material during research. Personally, I tend to do a lot of cross-checking before committing to something I haven't read about on paper. If even such highly-resourced and respected websites as the BBC Science News site can make howlers (how about claiming that chimpanzees are human ancestors?) why should we take any of these resources on trust? Unfortunately, the seductive ease with which information can be found on the World Wide Web does not in any way correlate with its quality. As I found out with the shrinking Y chromosome hypothesis, there are plenty of traps for the unwary.

Troublesome trawling: how New Zealand's fishing industry hid the truth about by-kill

I recently signed a petition to reduce by-kill in New Zealand waters by installing cameras on all commercial fishing vessels. Forest and Bird and World Wildlife Fund New Zealand are jointly campaigning for this monitoring, as only a small percentage of boats as yet have cameras. The previous New Zealand government agreed to the wider introduction, but Fisheries Minister Stuart Nash is considering reversing this due to industry pressure. Considering that the current administration is a coalition involving the Green Party, this seems highly ironic. Is this yet another nail in the coffin of New Zealand's tourist brand as 100% Pure?

Despite requests from the fishing industry not to release it to the public, on-board footage shows the extent of the by-kill. High numbers of rare and endangered species have been drowned in nets, from seabirds such as wandering albatross and yellow-eyed penguins/hoiho, to cetaceans (there are thought to be only fifty or so Māui's dolphin/popoto left), seals and sea lions.

Many of the cameras already installed on New Zealand boats failed in the first three months due to inadequate waterproofing; when allied with the fact that the supplier of the technology was an integrated part of the seafood industry, there's more than a whiff of something fishy going on. Although official statistics are often considered to be of dubious quality, Occam's razor can be used to decipher the by-kill figures as they have been reported in the past decade. Only three percent of New Zealand's set net boats are officially monitored, yet they account for the vast majority of the recorded by-kill. Given a choice between sheer coincidence (i.e. only monitored vessels are catching large numbers of non-target species) and severe under-reporting from unmonitored boats, it is obvious that the latter hypothesis follows the law of parsimony.

Sadly, widespread deception by New Zealand's fishing industry isn't something new. A third-party report involving undercover operatives stated that between 1950 and 2010 up to 2.7 times the official tonnage of fish was actually being caught, peaking in 1990. All this comes from an industry that is laden with checks and measures, not to mention sustainability certificates. Killing marine mammals within the country's Exclusive Economic Zone isn't just a minor inconvenience: since 1978 it's been illegal, with severe fines and even prison sentences for those convicted. Small wonder then that the majority of by-kill has been undeclared.

What is equally sad is the lack of interest from the New Zealand public in resolving the problems. After all, over ninety percent of the population are not vegetarian, so we must assume the vast majority enjoy seafood in their diet. The rapid replacement of over-fished sharks with Humboldt squid in the Sea of Cortez off Mexico's Pacific coast shows how the removal of a key species can severely affect food webs. If New Zealanders are to continue to enjoy eating fish with their chips, the sea needs better protection.

Over the past decade, other nations have shown commitment to reducing by-kill and lessening waste. In 2010 the British celebrity chef Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall launched the Fish Fight campaign to stop the discard of about half of the European Union's catch (due to it being either undersized or from non-quota species). Immense public support over the subsequent four years led to phased changes in the European Union's Common Fisheries Policy, proof that citizen action can make fundamental improvements.

Incidentally, it wasn't even a case of division along party lines; I was living in the UK at the time and wrote to my Labour Member of Parliament, who replied in a typically circumlocutory fashion that she would look into the matter! Even the then Conservative Prime Minister David Cameron agreed that EU policy needed a radical overhaul, a rare instance of cross-party sense and sensibility over pride and prejudice.

So what solutions are there to reducing by-kill? After all, installing cameras would only be the first step in assessing the scale of the problem, not removing it. Since Australia started monitoring its long-line tuna fleet, there has been a whopping seven hundred percent increase in the reporting of seabird and marine mammal by-kill. Some seaboard states in the USA have already banned set netting, which is still in widespread use in New Zealand. Several areas around the New Zealand coast such as between Kaipara Harbour and Mokau already prohibit this method of fishing - in this case to protect the few remaining Māui's dolphin - so there are precedents.

In addition, there are programmes currently testing new technology that may provide the answer. In 2002 the now charitable trust Southern Seabird Solutions was created to reduce by-kill of albatross and other endangered pelagic species.  This alliance of fishing industry leaders, recreational fishers, researchers and government analysts are trialling wondrously-named devices such as the Brady Bird Baffler, Hook Pod, tori lines and warp scarers.

Elsewhere, nocturnal experiments have been conducted using acoustic pingers to deter dolphins, although the results to date aren't especially promising. Equally dubious is the amended trawl net design for squid fishing vessels that incorporates the Sea Lion Exclusion Device (SLED); only today, it was reported that a juvenile sea lion had been found dead in such a net. Clearly, STEM ingenuity is being brought into play, but it will require further development and widespread introduction of the best solutions without industry interference in order to minimalise by-kill.

There are also some simple changes of practice that don't require equipment, only for the boat crews to be more aware of wildlife and act accordingly. Such procedures include moving away from areas with marine mammals present, not dumping offal, recovering lost gear, and changing the operating depth and retrieval speed of nets.

As usual, the financial considerations have taken precedence over the ecological ones. New Zealand has a comparatively small economy and as seafood is the nation's fifth largest export earner - over one billion dollars annually - it is hardly surprising that successive governments have tended to side with industry rather than environmentalists. However, could it be that there is now enough apprehension about the general state of the oceans to overhaul the sector's laissez faire practice? After all, in 2007 a fishing ban in New Zealand waters was placed on orange roughy, whose rapid decline caused huge concern.

There are of course plenty of other environmental issues affecting marine life: plastic pollution (including microbeads); increasing temperature and acidity, the latter especially drastic for shellfish; offshore algal blooms due to agricultural nutrient run-off; and numerous problems created by the oil and gas industry, from spillages to the far less reported exploratory air guns that impact cetacean behaviour.

The longer I've been writing this blog the more I'm convinced that science cannot be considered independent of the wider society in which it exists. Social, political and religious pressures and viewpoints can all adversely affect both what research is funded, what the time constraints are and how the results are presented or even skewed in favour of a particular outcome.

In the case outlined above, government ministries hid evidence to protect short-term industry profits at the expense of long-term environmental degradation - and of course the increase in public spending the latter will require for mitigation. New Zealand's precious dairy sector is already taking a pounding for the problems it has knowingly generated, so no doubt the fishing industry is keen to avoid a similar fate.

By allowing such sectors to regulate and police themselves and thus avoid public transparency, the entire nation suffers in the long run. We don't know what the decline or disappearance of populations of for example wandering albatross and Māui's dolphins might have on the (dis)appearance of snapper or blue cod at the dinner table, but as the alarming loss of Mediterranean and Californian anchovies and sardines suggests, negative cascades in the food chain can occur with extreme rapidity. Natural selection is a wonderful method of evolution but we are pushing it to the limit if we expect it to cope with the radical changes we are making to the environment at such a high speed. By-kill is something we can reduce, but only if industry and governments give science and the public a 'fair go'. Now isn't that something New Zealanders are supposed to be good at?