Journalists and public administrators need to get better at understanding complex socio-technological systems—and they need to get better fast. That’s the conclusion I draw from two reports in last week’s New York Times Digital Edition.
The first report is a fairly extensive treatment of apparent global public panic of radiation poisoning after Fukushima, “Drumbeat of Nuclear Fallout Fear Doesn’t Resound with Experts.” On the one hand, I have to say that the evidence presented in the article for this panic isn’t overwhelming. So what if stores have sold out of iodine tablets and radiation detectors. Never having seen either on the shelves of my local pharmacy, I would hazard a guess that the majority of stores don’t carry a large stock of either on hand. Why would they? Retail space—and even storage space—is at a premium in most businesses and so reserved for stock that will sell frequently and so make the business the most profit. How many buyers did it really take to run them out of stock? And, given that all it really takes to run a store out of stock of an item is a good marketing campaign, why precisely do we take this as evidence of panic? Reality often offers good marketing, and enough Americans are sufficiently programmed to go buy things when they feel even the least insecure to run stores out of limited supplies of iodine.
But the bigger problem with this article is that it seems oblivious to just about everything that researchers know about public perceptions and attitudes toward risk and, especially, the risks of radiation. After all, risk perception of nuclear power and radiation is a subject that’s been studied for decades. Perhaps the author could take a lesson from his fellow NY Times writer David Brooks and at least make an effort to read some of the research that’s been carried out. He might discover that his primary thesis, that public and expert perceptions of risk diverge, is hardly news. More importantly, he might discover that the explanation for this divergence is a lot more complicated than one he offers. The public is generally not cognitively deficient in its risk perceptions. But people do perceive risks following different conceptual and logical frameworks than a straight up scientific analysis might suggest. And they do so for good reasons. Building the public’s (and Washington’s) awareness of how and why people approach risks differently than experts could actually be quite useful to public welfare and good governance. Far more so than simply reiterating the expert mindset that America’s citizenry are simply dumb, emotional, or irrational. Opportunity lost—oh well.
And then there’s the question of maybe doing a little reporting. It seems unclear why, but the reporter doesn’t actually try to interview any of the so-called public for this story. It’s apparently enough to parrot the views of a view experts, without bothering to check. Living in Phoenix, where iodine was reported to have sold out within days of the first accounts of Fukushima, I have to admit I haven’t met anyone who seems panicked.
The second story was much shorter. A single paragraph coverage of a speech by the Chairman of the Nuclear Regulatory Commission calling for better flood planning for nuclear power plants. Sure. But if that’s all the NRC is taking away from Japan’s experience with Fukushima, we should all buy iodine pills as a precaution against the next nuclear accident in the United States. Just a few days ago, the Brown’s Ferry nuclear reactor, identical to the Fukushima plant but located in northern Alabama, went into emergency shutdown because its power lines were cut. (Fortunately, its backup generators still worked, so the shutdown has been controlled, at least so far.) The culprit in this case was not a flood but a tornado. Maybe next time—now that nature’s shown them the way—it will be terrorists.
Fukushima offers enormous lessons for the United States and the world about the nature and contradictions of today’s complex socio-technological systems. But un-less journalists and public administrators choose to learn and teach those lessons, the next nuclear meltdown (or Gulf oil spill, or Hurricane Katrina, or 9/11) will be right around the corner.
The first report is a fairly extensive treatment of apparent global public panic of radiation poisoning after Fukushima, “Drumbeat of Nuclear Fallout Fear Doesn’t Resound with Experts.” On the one hand, I have to say that the evidence presented in the article for this panic isn’t overwhelming. So what if stores have sold out of iodine tablets and radiation detectors. Never having seen either on the shelves of my local pharmacy, I would hazard a guess that the majority of stores don’t carry a large stock of either on hand. Why would they? Retail space—and even storage space—is at a premium in most businesses and so reserved for stock that will sell frequently and so make the business the most profit. How many buyers did it really take to run them out of stock? And, given that all it really takes to run a store out of stock of an item is a good marketing campaign, why precisely do we take this as evidence of panic? Reality often offers good marketing, and enough Americans are sufficiently programmed to go buy things when they feel even the least insecure to run stores out of limited supplies of iodine.
But the bigger problem with this article is that it seems oblivious to just about everything that researchers know about public perceptions and attitudes toward risk and, especially, the risks of radiation. After all, risk perception of nuclear power and radiation is a subject that’s been studied for decades. Perhaps the author could take a lesson from his fellow NY Times writer David Brooks and at least make an effort to read some of the research that’s been carried out. He might discover that his primary thesis, that public and expert perceptions of risk diverge, is hardly news. More importantly, he might discover that the explanation for this divergence is a lot more complicated than one he offers. The public is generally not cognitively deficient in its risk perceptions. But people do perceive risks following different conceptual and logical frameworks than a straight up scientific analysis might suggest. And they do so for good reasons. Building the public’s (and Washington’s) awareness of how and why people approach risks differently than experts could actually be quite useful to public welfare and good governance. Far more so than simply reiterating the expert mindset that America’s citizenry are simply dumb, emotional, or irrational. Opportunity lost—oh well.
And then there’s the question of maybe doing a little reporting. It seems unclear why, but the reporter doesn’t actually try to interview any of the so-called public for this story. It’s apparently enough to parrot the views of a view experts, without bothering to check. Living in Phoenix, where iodine was reported to have sold out within days of the first accounts of Fukushima, I have to admit I haven’t met anyone who seems panicked.
The second story was much shorter. A single paragraph coverage of a speech by the Chairman of the Nuclear Regulatory Commission calling for better flood planning for nuclear power plants. Sure. But if that’s all the NRC is taking away from Japan’s experience with Fukushima, we should all buy iodine pills as a precaution against the next nuclear accident in the United States. Just a few days ago, the Brown’s Ferry nuclear reactor, identical to the Fukushima plant but located in northern Alabama, went into emergency shutdown because its power lines were cut. (Fortunately, its backup generators still worked, so the shutdown has been controlled, at least so far.) The culprit in this case was not a flood but a tornado. Maybe next time—now that nature’s shown them the way—it will be terrorists.
Fukushima offers enormous lessons for the United States and the world about the nature and contradictions of today’s complex socio-technological systems. But un-less journalists and public administrators choose to learn and teach those lessons, the next nuclear meltdown (or Gulf oil spill, or Hurricane Katrina, or 9/11) will be right around the corner.
