Your brain on pseudoscience: the rise of popular neurobollocks
I like this skewering of the cult of so-called-neuroscience; the self-help book equivalent of eye-tracking.
I like this skewering of the cult of so-called-neuroscience; the self-help book equivalent of eye-tracking.
Simon Singh's newest book is released today. Huzzah! It's called Trick or Treatment? and it's all about "alternative" medicine. Somewhere, Ben Goldacre is smiling.
I've said it before and I'll say it again: the Bad Science blog deserves a medal.
I don’t like contributing something as simple as “me too!” but I just had to +1 Tom’s post on Ben Goldacre on Gillian McKeith. As he puts it:
There are times when I feel that Ben Goldacre—author of the Guardian’s Bad Science column—should be knighted.
I couldn’t agree more. Be sure to visit his website, Bad Science. As a fan of popular science—by which I mean fascinating subjects made accessible to plebs like me—I applaud Ben Goldacre’s sysyphian work in calling the British press on their over-reliance on pseudo-science. His tireless work on exposing the junk science behind the anti-MMR stories alone deserves everyone’s respect and gratitude.
His latest column, A menace to science quite rightly exposes Gillian McKeith—the TV presenter with a surname worryingly similar to my own—as the crackpot that she is. The article concentrates on her ludicrous “scientific” claims rather than focusing on the side-issue that she is completely unqualified, but I’ve decided to title this post Gillian McKeith is not a doctor for the benefit of future Googlers. It’s official:
A regular from my website badscience.net — I can barely contain my pride — took McKeith to the Advertising Standards Authority, complaining about her using the title “doctor” on the basis of a qualification gained by correspondence course from a non-accredited American college. He won.
With any luck, I’ll receive one of McKeith’s famous cease-and-desist threats.
In other news from Tom, he’s feeling mightily jetlagged, the poor bastard. Having just flown back from Vancouver—a time zone difference of eight hours—I should be in a position to commiserate. But, touch wood, I seem to have mercifully escaped the ravages of jetlag.
Hilariously stupid pseudo-science article that takes a scythe to the BBC's credibility. Read on to the last line to get the source of this nonsense.