So, would you say that
the results of your research indicate that there is no need to worry about the
release of silver nanoparticles from consumer products into the environment?
Hearing
this from the reporter makes me incredibly nervous and aggravated. We just
spent 30 minutes discussing my research paper, and this question
demonstrates I did a poor job of communicating my results. I don’t even want to
answer because I’m afraid of being misquoted and having the value of my work
plummet. It’s all I can do to keep from hanging up the phone immediately.
But
instead I respond, trying to keep the condescending tone suppressed, “No, my
research simply shows that silver is released from consumer products into sewer
systems and most of it will be contained within the biosolids of a wastewater
treatment plant, and from there…”
Wait a minute, could
you explain what you mean by biosolids?
What
the hell? Did this person even read the paper they had me send to them so they
could save 40 bucks instead of buying it online? My contempt for the media was
increasing exponentially by the minute…
Hold
on, Troy…cut the reporters some slack, your paper is written for a
scientifically-trained audience. There’s no reason why anyone outside of
environmental engineering would know what ‘biosolids’ are.
“Sure,
sure…biosolids are…um…the… ah..” I stammer as my mind races to find a coherent
explanation of biosolids. It occurs to
me that I’ve never had to explain the term. It’s common knowledge…among
environmental engineers.
I
start again, “Biosolids are the dead cells of microorganisms,” –don’t use big
words– “uh…it’s the dirt and bugs” –don’t dumb it down either– ”uh… it’s the particulate, left-over organic
matter…” –Will they understand what I mean?– “from the process of wastewater
treatment.”
….
Silence from the other
end of the line. I have no idea what I just said. So I try to make a save. “A
lot of times biosolids are referred to as sludge.”
Oh, ok, I get it.
The
reporter humors me. Note to self: look up definition of biosolids.
By
this time, my anxiety has reached a pinnacle, and I’d bet the reporter is
experiencing the same. The interview winds down with a final question:
So…ah... I’m sure
you’re aware that a petition has been brought against the EPA to regulate
nanosilver as a pesticide, what are your thoughts about this?
I
am aware of this, in fact, because my report was used as evidence that
regulation of nanosilver was warranted. And even though I knew a question like
this was coming, because every reporter I’ve ever spoken with has asked
something similar, I can’t hold back my laughter.
Why are you laughing?
Because
your question is utterly ridiculous, and you have no idea how complex my answer
would have to be. And instead of spitting vulgarities in a fit of rage at the
ignorance of the question, I laugh instead. My mind races to find the
underlying motives behind the reporter’s policy question.
Is
this person trying to get a quote that will be used to polarize my research?
Will the quality of my work be questioned depending on my answer?
What
is my true opinion about what the policy should be regarding nanosilver? The
interview stalls while I contemplate everything I’ve experienced in the
nanosilver issue.
Products
are being infused with nanosilver to combat microbial growth, but toxicologists
are unsure how nanosilver will affect environmental and human health. My
research quantified the release of nanosilver from consumer products into
wastewater, and suggests that silver could be reintroduced into the environment
through the disposal of wastewater treatment biosolids. But how does this
information help anyone make a decision about nanosilver policy?
Supporters
of nanosilver regulation could use our findings to say that silver released
from products into our environment could cause unknown adverse effects. This
precautionary principle stance is countered by arguing that the adverse effects
can never be fully understood, and regulation would hinder a viable economic
market that already exists for nanosilver products. Both arguments are valid
based on the available scientific data. A policy decision would therefore be a
negotiation between precaution and economic development.
My
flashback of three years of nanosilver research is interrupted by the
reporter’s prodding:
You can feel free to
give me your opinion, I won’t quote you.
My
cynical side doesn’t believe this statement. So I feebly offer, “I don’t feel
comfortable answering your question. I don’t think my results indicate
regulation is warranted or not.” I decide I don’t have nearly enough time or
the articulation to express my previous thoughts in a short phone conversation,
especially with a reporter. I have trust issues.
The
phone interview draws to a long-awaited conclusion but the anxiety lingers. I
retreat to the dark basement laboratory for comfort and consider never giving
another interview. At that thought, the lights come on.
About the
Author: Troy Benn is a doctoral student in ASU’s School of
Sustainable Engineering and the Built Environment and became CSPO’s third PhDplus by successfully
defending his dissertation on November 13, 2009.
