Myth busting doesn't work: sugar and hyperactivity

I say this a lot, but beware when someone says they're busting a "myth." Whenever someone points out a myth that they're correcting, that's a sign you're highly likely to get a dishonest argument. I'm not sure why. It's not like there aren't wrong things believed by people that can and should be corrected. But for some reason, when someone identifies something as a "myth" and then goes about debunking it, they often (usually, even almost always) seem to go off the rails.

For this blog post, let's look at a Washington Post article (probably pay walled), "Does eating too much sugar really make kids hyper?" The article starts with a question: "Is it true that eating lots of sugar causes hyperactivity in kids?" It says that parents "long have blamed their children’s 'bouncing off the wall' behavior on eating too much sugar, but experts say there’s no truth to it."

The expert they consult says, "It’s a myth that sugar causes hyperactivity." How does he know this? Well, in the 1990s, he conducted studies " that disproved the notion that sugar causes attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) in children."

The article also cites the CDC, which the article quotes as saying, "research doesn’t support the popularly held views that ADHD is caused by eating too much sugar, watching too much television, parenting, or social and environmental factors such as poverty or family chaos."

Do you see what the did here? The article starts by asking whether sugar makes kids hyperactive and continues by explaining there's a myth that sugar makes kids "bounc[e] off the walls." Then it goes to experts who address a different question, which is whether sugar causes attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder." 

To my mind, there are two questions here, not one. One question is whether sugar causes ADHD. The other is whether sugar makes kids hyper. The experts and the article answer only the first question. But the article frames the answer as addressing both questions. 

Now, there's a little wiggle room for what the article is doing. First, the author could credibly claim that by asking whether sugar makes kids "hyperactive," they're actually asking whether sugar causes "attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder."

Sigh. Maybe. But I suspect that when a lay reader sees the term "hyperactive," they don't necessarily think of ADHD or clinical behavior, especially when "hyperactive" is followed by a sentence talking about kids "bouncing off the walls." Maybe ADHD involves kids "bouncing of the walls," but kids sometimes bounce off the walls even if they don't have ADHD. Does sugar contribute to the latter? We don't know from the article.

Second, the studies from the 1990s, from the article's reporting, found no connection between sugar consumption and "normal" behavior. And maybe that means the studies address behavior different from that typical of ADHD. Maybe? Possibly?

Later in the article, we find that certain chemicals kids are exposed to, such as red dye no. 3, may, according to some studies, contribute to "hyperactivity and other behavioral problems in children." (I assume they're referring to ADHD and not just "hyperactivity" in general.) But that point seems to contradict the earlier statement I quoted from the CDC that I'll requote, with bold added by me: "research doesn’t support the popularly held views that ADHD is caused by eating too much sugar, watching too much television, parenting, or social and environmental factors such as poverty or family chaos." Red dye no. 3 seems like an environmental factor to me, as in, something in the child's environment that contributes to their condition.

So the "myth" is busted only if it states that ADHD is caused by too much sugar. But I don't think that "myth" is typically what people mean when they posit a relationship between sugar and "hyperactivity." They typically just mean that when kids eat sugar, they get more energetic and rambunctious than when they don't. They probably don't usually mean to insist that sugar itself is the cause of a clinical condition.

Maybe sometimes they do mean that. If so, fine. The article can debunk that "myth." But why not just clarify that's the "myth" it's debunking?

A real apology

In Cook County, Illinois, the race for the Democratic nominee for state's attorney (pretty much the same thing as a district attorney in other places), is very narrow. The primary was held a week ago (Tuesday, March 19, 2024) and the mail-in ballots are still being counted. 

There's been some confusion on when the mail-in ballots were counted and when they should have been. Some ballots apparently were received the day before the actual primary day. The chair of the board chose to postpone counting those ballots, presumably because he believed counting them would have slowed the process and that those ballots probably wouldn't have determined the outcome of the race. In other words, he didn't think the race would be as close as it was.

Here is the Chicago Sun-Times quoting him:

"'I traded speed for accuracy in reporting out numbers this week as quickly as I could,' Bever [Election Board Chair] said. 'I truly regret this error on my part and for the confusion that it has caused the voters of Chicago.'"

Assuming there's nothing more to the context that the Sun-Times has left out, that's quite a good apology. Short, to the point, and taking responsibility for a decision that turned out to be wrong.  

I'm sometimes critical of demands for "real apologies" and of criticisms against alleged "non-apology apologies." The people who make those demands tend to be very selective in how they apply those demand, and they often don't practice what they preach. The alleged "non-apology apologies" are very often more sincere than they're given credit for. Or the same people calling for sincere apologies would denounce actually sincere apologies. Or the alleged "non-apology apologies" still serve a very useful, sometimes more useful purpose than a "real apology" would have been.

But it's refreshing to see a real apology when it's actually made.

IVF is different

[Note: I edited this post substantially on March 8, 2024]

You may have heard of the recent Alabama Supreme Court case that identifies embryos, created through the in-vitro fertilization process (IVF) and then frozen, as children. At least, that's how the Washington Post describes the decision [paywall]. I haven't read the actual case and am prepared for it to have said something a little different. But the gist appears to be that the court recognizes IVF embryos as human and states people can be sued for wrongful death if they mishandle the embryos.

With that decision comes the usual concern about the courts' ever stronger restrictions against abortion rights. I understand that concern. But I see an important distinction here. In cases of unwanted pregnancies, the zygote/embryo is enmeshed with the body of the woman. Whether it is a human life or not, its existence is so implicated with the woman's body, that it is a part of her body. 

I believe someone can accept that view and can believe that therefore the woman has the moral prerogative to abort and ought to have the legal right to do so--all the while believing, as I do, that life begins at conception. One can hold both those views consistently.

IVF is different.

I don't like Dr. Strangelove (the film)

(Note: I edited this post on January 23, 2024. Most of my edits were to clarify or fix typos or bad phrasings. But I also added an explanatory sentence to one of my paragraphs.)

I'm not a fan of the film Dr. Strangelove. I don't like it. I'm supposed to like it. I'm supposed to find it hilarious. But I don't like it. 

I don't find it funny, certainly not laugh-out-loud funny. To be clear, when I saw it, I chuckled at a few things. But I didn't find any of the jokes "side-splitting" and I didn't start "crying with laughter" (those quotations are from Simon Dillon's review of the film, but characteristic of how I hear most fans describe it).

I understand the jokes. I know why I'm supposed to laugh. I just don't want to. Yes, I get the irony and satire. I know, for example, why "peace is our profession" is supposed to be a ridiculous motto for a branch of the military. (However, it doesn't take much effort to understand the argument that a strong military is necessary to ensure peace. Understanding the argument doesn't mean you have to agree with it, but it can temper the supposed hilarity.)

Maybe satire is what's intended when Slim Pickens's character jumps on the bomb at the end of the film and rides it down from the plane howling like a cowboy. I don't know. Maybe the message is that bomber pilots are ridiculously crazy? Again, I know that it's supposed to be a funny but also a "man, that's a deep critique" scene. But I find it more annoying than humorous.

Dr. Strangelove the character isn't all that funny. Again, I get the satire. The U.S. (and probably the Soviet Union) used former Nazi scientists to advise them on weapons systems. And Dr. Strangelove is a former Nazi scientist who has a hard time preventing his hand from springing up in a Hitler salute. I get the humor, but frankly I don't find it "weeping-with-laughter hysterical," to again quote Simon Dillon.

People who know the film know that Peter Sellers plays three of the characters, including Dr. Strangelove. You know Peter Sellers, right? He's a very, very talented actor who we're all supposed to like. I'm just not super impressed by him. Granted, he probably really is a great actor, but to me he's just an actor. And three roles? Maybe in 1964 that was a new thing. But in 1997, when I saw the film, it was a tired old ploy. And even in 1964, it was just the same guy playing three roles.

What's the argument of the film? That nuclear war is bad? Who doesn't believe that? Who didn't believe that in 1964? Okay, maybe Curtis LeMay. Maybe a few others who aren't actually disturbed individuals. But even most of those who advocate for Nuclear Utilization Target Selection don't look forward to what the world will look like when it's put into practice. They probably see it as a grim tactic for a grim situation and a grim time.

Another potential argument for the film: Defense systems and plans might have a logic of their own and start a war even when those responsible don't want that to happen. Or related: One rogue person might make decisions that activates those systems and starts a war that world leaders don't want. As arguments go, those are good ones, I guess. They're worth thinking about. But I can think about it without pretending to laugh at the fact that one character is named "Bat Guano" and another is named "Rex Turgidson."

Look, too many people like the film for me to be confident that it's as bad as I think it is. Maybe the emperor really has clothes. (I dislike the "emperor no clothes" aphorism, but I'm using it now.) But maybe, just maybe, others feel as I do, that they're expected to like the movie but that they don't really find it funny or even a good film. 

Post script: In the above blog post, I pull a lot of quotations from Simon Dillon's review of Dr. Strangelove. I obviously don't share his enthusiasm for that movie. I used his review because it is emblematic of the type of praise I hear about that film. But I want to say that Dillon is worth reading, and I enjoy his blog very much and recommend it.