Ranthropologist

Category: Science & Technology

  • (R)anthropology Class: The Myth of Race

    (R)anthropology Class: The Myth of Race

    I have decided to start a new series that I am calling (R)anthropology Class. I draw on my anthropological training in so many different ways, and I know that this training is what has helped me view the world in a critical and objective way. Because I know that most people have never taken an anthropology class – or if they have, it was long ago – I have decided to focus some of my posts on some of the most basic, but important, anthropological concepts. These usually occur to me when I am in the midst of trying to make sense of some new idea or trying to explain my point of view to others. That was the case recently when I was trying to explain to someone why DNA ancestry tests can be extremely misleading for people who don’t know much, if anything, about population genetics. So with this inaugural (R)anthropology Class rant, I will sketch in the basics of why a commercial DNA ancestry test cannot tell you your race.

    There is no question that race is a real thing. All we have to do is look at the people around us to know that this is true: different skin colors, hair textures, facial characteristics, even height and body type show us that people are different from one another. Yet, from a genetic standpoint, race is not a real thing at all. Instead, what we call race is a cultural construct that reflects the human need to seek and identify patterns in our surroundings that help us to understand and categorize our world. Race, in other words, is cultural rather than biological.

    How can I say such a thing? All you have to do is look at someone to know what race they are – right? Dark skin = African. Epicanthic folds in the eyelids = Asian. Blue eyes = European.** And if a person happens to have parents of two different races, then that person will show a blend of different racial characteristics from his or her parents. Or if a person is descended from several different races, they will still show some traits that help you identify those ancestral races – or so we like to think. But ask any person who identifies as mixed race and you will find that their lives are full of mistaken assumptions about what their race is – and concomitantly full of different types of treatment depending on what people might unconsciously assume their race to be. Again, this is all entirely based on cultural categories, and is part of what anthropologists call ascribed status. An ascribed status is a status that a person can’t do anything to change – such as age, gender, or in this example, race. But people make mistakes in the statuses they ascribe to others all the time. When I teach my students about this in my lecture on race, I ask them if they have ever been mistaken for a race other than the one they assign to themselves. The hands of my students of color always, without fail, shoot into the air. And, sometimes, my students who look white raise their hands, too – and they surprise their classmates by identifying as having African-American, non-white Hispanic or Latino, Asian, or some other non-white racial ancestry.*** I have Filipino students tell me they are mistaken for Latino or Middle Eastern; I have Asian students describe how they are always ascribed to the Japanese or Chinese category when they are actually Korean or Vietnamese or Thai; I have students with roots in countries throughout South America tell me that nobody seems to know that there are countries other than Mexico south of the US border.

    Here’s the deal, biologically: humans are 99.999% genetically identical. That means that only one out of every 1000 DNA nucleotides is different between any two individual humans. But that tiny .001% difference is reflected in some very recent, visible physical differences between human populations. Human physical traits – called phenotypes – have evolved based on adaptation to specific geographic regions and the pressures of natural selection within those regions. So, natural selection results in phenotypic variation in traits like skin color. Skin color has evolved in response to sun exposure and vitamin D metabolism – the further north a population lives, the less sun they get, which means the less essential vitamin D they are able to metabolize. So by virtue of natural selection, lighter skin color that allows for more efficient vitamin D absorption has evolved in human populations that live in low-sunlight areas, whereas the melanin that causes darker skin has remained abundant in populations closer to the equator. Hence, populations in equatorial Africa are very dark, whereas populations in far northern Europe are very light. This same sort of natural selection has operated on other genes as well, resulting in a wide variety of phenotypes throughout the world. And naturally, those phenotypes remain clustered within the populations where they evolved, which makes it simple for pattern-seeking humans to use those phenotypes to categorize people into the physical types that we have labelled “races.”

    Another important point about phenotypic variation is that it is continuous. In other words, there is no sharp, clear dividing line between different types. If you were to line up every person in the world in order from palest skin to darkest, where would you draw the line between dark and light? Or even if you came up with more categories – pale white, medium white, light tan, dark tan, light brown, etc. – where would you put those lines? It’s like trying to pinpoint the exact spot in a rainbow where the color turns from red to orange – it can’t be done! And yet the rainbow continuously shifts in colors until you go all the way from red at the beginning to violet at the end. Continuous human phenotypes operate in exactly the same fashion. Consider, also, that if you were to draw skin color lines in the human rainbow, you would find individuals from several different races or ethnicities within a single skin color category – Australian aborigines, east Indians, and sub-Sarahan Africans could all be found within one dark-skinned group! A bottom-line way of putting it is this: there is no single trait that can be found in one so-called racial group that does not also exist in some other so-called racial group. You can find dark skin in several groups, epicanthic folds in several groups, and blue eyes in several groups. Race as biology is a cultural fiction.

    So, what does this have to do with DNA ancestry tests? I have serious misgivings about the way these tests are marketed because they trade on people’s lack of knowledge about the biological fiction of race and give them the impression that they are finding out about their own supposed racial ancestry. In fact, if not strictly unethical, I think that the companies who peddle these tests are at best taking advantage of people’s forgivable ignorance about the complexity of genetics. Now, I’m not saying that people can’t or even shouldn’t research their ancestry if it interests them; it would be fascinating to find out that what you thought was your completely European ancestry actually had, say, a branch from a part of Asia. But when I say that, I’m talking about genealogical, not genetic, ancestry research. Genetic ancestry research cannot tell you that you have an Asian ancestor; it can only tell you if you have genetic markers that are associated with particular broadly-defined genetic populations.

    DNA ancestry tests use what are called haplogroups to assess genetic ancestry. A haplogroup is a group of similar genes – called haplotypes – that reflect single nucleotide polymorphism (SNP) mutations. What is important about SNP haplogroups is that they can be used to broadly delineate genetic populations. This goes back to the discussion above about phenotypic traits that arise in particular geographic regions in response to specific selective pressures. These haplogroups can be traced in two ways: either on the Y chromosome, which is only present in males; or in mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA), which is a separate set of DNA from the nuclear DNA that codes for our particular physical traits. Mitochondrial DNA is only found in our cells’ mitochondria, and we get it only from our mothers. Both Y haplogroups and mtDNA haplogroups are very stable and have a very slow rate of mutation, so they remain relatively unchanged for long periods of time. This means that we can compare these haplogroups in people today to ancient haplogroups associated with particular regions and populations. Commercial DNA ancestry tests look at an individual’s haplogroups and compare the results to known population haplogroups.* These results are used to complete a statistical analysis of a person’s possible ancestry. So, if you have a haplogroup associated with Asia, your DNA test results will say so.

    Here’s where things get problematic. Most people don’t know all the things about DNA and populations genetics that I am writing about in this post, so when they see a result of, say, 12% African, they think it means they are “part Black.” I can’t stress enough that this is not what these results mean. What it means is that the person has a haplogroup that is associated with known ancestral African genetic populations. It’s a statistical correlation, not an absolute. And things get even trickier when you realize that Y and mtDNA haplogroups can be incredibly diverse even within a seemingly homogenous regional population. In fact, population geneticists know that there is more variation within the groups we call races than there is between the groups we call races. I am just as likely to share identical mtDNA ancestry with someone from Asia – where I have no ancestors that I know of – as I am to share it with someone from Sweden, where I know my immediate ancestors came from. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not saying we can’t learn anything from comparing haplotypes – we can. But it is completely wrong to say that you are “part Black” or “part Native American” or “part Asian” based on DNA ancestry testing. All it tells you is that you have a haplogroup that could have entered your genetic lineage thousands of years ago that derived from that part of the world.

    This has been a long post, and it is a complicated subject. I have no doubt that some people will read this and misunderstand. Let me part with this: if you want to get a DNA ancestry test, feel free. Just don’t make the mistake of thinking it is telling you anything about your race – it’s not. And finally, never forget that even though what we think of as race is not biologically real, it is still a complex, vital, and unmistakable social reality. We continue to treat people differently on the basis of it; and some people even still insist that the behaviors we associate with race and ethnicity have a genetic basis. We are not that far from the days when the civil rights of African Americans, Native Americans, and other people of color were denied because of the belief that they were genetically inferior to white people. In that sense, race is historically, culturally, and painfully real.

    *Since I wrote this post in February 2015, the technology used by commercial testing companies has expanded to include autosomal DNA haplogroups. Autosomal DNA is the DNA found in the nucleus of all your body’s cells. You get 50% of your autosomal DNA from your mother and 50% from your father. Using autosomal DNA allows a DNA test to see your results from both your maternal and paternal lineages, but it does not automatically mean you will get a more accurate picture; because of the process of meiosis, which is how sperm and eggs are made, each sperm or egg only has half of a person’s DNA. That means that every sperm and egg is essentially unique, and does not contain every possible haplogroup that is part of a person’s autosomal DNA. So, the sperm and egg that made YOU does not have every one of your parents’ haplogroups; and if you have kids, they won’t have all of your haplogroups, either. This is why even full siblings often will not have the exact same results, because each person carries a unique combination of DNA. (Edited January 27, 2018)

    **A comment from a reader pointed out that there are problems with the use of the term Caucasian – problems, embarrassingly, that I had never considered, but which seem obvious to me after a little bit of reading and reflection. I have edited the post to replace the word Caucasian with European or white. This article by Yolanda Moses provides a compelling and succinct explanation for why we need to stop using the term. (Edited February 13, 2018)

    ***A comment from a reader pointed out a lack of clarity here, given that there is a subset of Latino and Hispanic that falls within the white European racial category. (Edited January 8, 2019)

  • Technology and Its Discontents: Screening Experience

    Technology and Its Discontents: Screening Experience

    Yesterday (January 18, 2015) I ran in the Carlsbad half-marathon. It was my first half-marathon since late 2010, and while it’s not exactly accurate to say that getting up at the crack of dawn to wait in the cold and then run 13.1 miles is fun, I was looking forward to it. I have never regretted doing a race, whether a triathlon or a running race, and I have enjoyed those experiences as well, even as my body complains and my brain asks why the hell I am paying good money for the dubious “pleasure” of participating in endurance events. Well, here’s why I do it: I like challenging myself. I appreciate knowing that, at 43 years old, I can run long distances at a reasonable pace and not be completely wrecked at the end. I like getting up with the sun and knowing I’ll soon be outside, with like-minded people, experiencing the same challenge. I don’t wear headphones when I race because I want to hear the sound that thousands of footfalls make when the starting gun goes off – it sounds like a steady rain. I also want to hear the snippets of conversation, the cheers of the spectators and the encouragement of the volunteers, and my own labored breathing.

    Every person’s experience of the race is unique, and I understand why well over half of the people I saw were wearing headphones as they ran. I always listen to music when I am doing fitness or training runs, because, let’s face it: running is monotonous. The music helps. I make the exception for races because I am energized and entertained by what I hear along the course. So, this rant is not aimed at those who wear headphones during a race. It is, however, aimed at the people who did not actually experience the race; instead, they screened it. This would be the people who had their phones held above their heads, the record button pressed, taking video as they ran across the starting line. This would be the people slinging their arms around their friends, already walking before finishing the first mile, blocking the serious runners behind them, attempting to take a group selfie. This would be the people who were posting pictures to social media or sending texts as they weaved about the course, oblivious to the runners around them. This would be the “runners” stopping for several minutes to pose for photos or take selfies in front of the ocean as the race route passed out of downtown Carlsbad and went along the beach.

    I try not to begrudge these people their right to document their experience as they see fit, but the fact is that I do begrudge it, and I do judge it. I won’t argue that it’s right for me to do so; it’s a purely subjective reaction. But I have to be honest and admit that it bugs the shit out of me. I don’t think people who do this sort of thing are experiencing the race so much as they are experiencing their desire to document and share it (and in fact, there is research to show that our obsessive use of camera phones is changing the way our experiences and memories are shaped). I’m sure the same thing happened in the last half-marathon I ran in 2010, but I don’t remember seeing so much of it. And to be clear, I have no problem with pre- or post-race photos or social media updates. But during the race? What this also tells me is that these people aren’t in it to race a half-marathon; they’re in it so they can say they’ve participated in a half-marathon. To me, these are substantively different things. I’ll grant you that I am not racing in the sense that I expect to beat anybody in particular across the finish line; but I am racing in the sense that I have a goal, which is to run to the best of my ability and complete the race with the best time I can accomplish.

    I’m sure this must sound incredibly snobbish and arrogant. It probably is. I am working on detaching myself from this reaction because, unless one of these screen-runners gets in my way or runs into me, their actions have no direct impact on me. They can do what they want and they can experience the race any way they choose… but if anything the greatest sense I have is one of sadness that technology has brought us to this: using the screen as a filter for genuine experience. Maybe some memories are better developed in the mind and not on the screen. Maybe some accomplishments should be achieved with our eyes focused on the world in front of us, in full. Maybe the real challenge in not just completing, but racing in an endurance event needs to be found in fully committing to it and not doing it just as a lark to be shared via text or tweet or Instagram mid-race.

    I realized even before I crossed the finish line yesterday that I have missed it and I will race again. I know I will see the screen-runners at the next event, too. It will probably bother me less because I’ll be prepared for it, and also because I know it’s not for me to judge how other people choose to experience the race. I know that my reaction to the screens is visceral and emotional rather than rational… but I still wish people would just put down their phones and run.

  • Technology and Its Discontents: Getting Quizzed

    Technology and Its Discontents: Getting Quizzed

    For the past several months I have noticed a proliferation of quizzes on social media and pop culture websites. There is something about a headline that reads “Find out which Disney princess you are!” that overcomes my inner curmudgeon and makes me want to participate, even though I’m not a fan of Disney and I don’t really care which princess I am. The internet quiz is possessed of an uncanny ability to draw in even the wary, because what could possibly be the harm in finding out which Walking Dead character you are or what your profession should actually be or what mythological beast is your totem animal? It turns out, more harm than I realized.

    Even as I was giving in to the siren call of the quiz I found myself questioning why its allure was so strong. I was answering quizzes dealing with topics I knew nothing about – things like which character I am on a TV show I don’t even watch. I told myself that it was ok because I mostly kept my participation hidden from others. I ran across most quizzes on Facebook on the feeds of friends who had taken them. I almost never posted my results, although I would sometimes leave them as a comment for the person who originally posted the quiz. I was slightly embarrassed by how quickly the quizzes would suck me in, and I figured if I didn’t pass them on then I was at least not contributing to their proliferation. As usual, there was an element of “I’m better than this” to my refusal to share my participation; I didn’t want to admit that I was indulging in such a petty use of my time.

    I thought my slight embarrassment was the worst consequence of taking these silly quizzes until I ran across an article that revealed information I immediately realized I should already have known: the quizzes are a back door way for marketers to track consumer data. OF COURSE THEY ARE. My literal headslap after reading the article paled in comparison to the anger I felt at myself for being so easily duped. If you are not familiar with these quizzes, they ask seemingly innocent questions in an effort to peg you as, for example, a fictional character or famous author or classic movie. Many of the questions have answers that hint at certain results, so if you are just dying to be identified as Allison from The Breakfast Club, you’ll select the picture of the sandwich made with Cap’n Crunch and Pixie Sticks as your lunch of choice. This all just seems so harmless and fun! But in reality, it is telling the purveyor of the quiz very specific details about you. What is your favorite color? Favorite animal? Favorite breakfast cereal? What bands do you like? Where is your dream vacation destination? What decade do you identify with? How do you dress? What do you read, watch, eat, do for fun? All these questions are things I have encountered on these quizzes, and I can’t believe I didn’t realize on my own that they aren’t harmless at all.

    There are plenty of people who think this sort of thing is no big deal, and I suppose to some degree that’s true, but I will not concede that it is without harm. It is manipulation, pure and simple. It’s worse than subliminal because it not only sends a message out to the consumer, it gathers a response that can be used to craft even more manipulative messaging. It absolutely depends on the notion that people don’t realize what they are giving away when they participate. If this was really just about selling us stuff, I’d still be upset by it, but ultimately I think it’s much more than that. Our willing participation in the online world means unwitting participation as harvested data. We all need to bear in mind that on the internet, nothing is truly free. The adage of marketing holds true: if you’re not paying for a product, you are the product. So the next time a quiz pops up, remember: you are giving yourself away for free.

  • Technology and Its Discontents: Instant Gratification

    Technology and Its Discontents: Instant Gratification

    Over the past few years, I have been doing more and more shopping online. I have long patronized Amazon for books, especially in the used marketplace, and I have recently had occasion to order non-book items from Amazon as well. Many of the clothes and shoes in my closet have been ordered online, and the lion’s share of the supplies I need for the Rock and Shell Club have been shipped to me from all over the country (and in one memorable, not to be repeated order, China). I appreciate the convenience of finding what I need online and having it delivered directly to me, as many of the items I need are not necessarily available locally; however, I am becoming increasingly concerned about what the Amazon model is doing to us culturally, behaviorally, and economically.

    Around March 2012 I read an article in Mother Jones that pulled into focus something I had already started to hear a lot about: the backbreaking labor, low wages, and job insecurity that go into making our instant gratification economy possible. Reading about author Mac McClelland’s experience working in a warehouse subcontracted to Amazon made me seriously question the business model that allows consumers to get their goods within a few days of their order. More so, it made me scrutinize my own behavior, and I found myself asking why I expected to take delivery of my order in just a few days. The simple answer is that the Amazon model has created that expectation – order now, have it tomorrow if you’re willing to pay the price, and in just a few days or a week even if you’re not. Once you become accustomed to things arriving quickly, it creates the expectation that any delay in shipment is bad customer service – hence, Amazon becomes customer service king over your local bookstore or small online shop, which might take a few weeks to deliver the book you order.

    To do business this way, Amazon must cut corners wherever possible, which is what leads to the labor conditions in their distribution centers. But consumers, being human, are out-of-sight, out-of-mind creatures, so no thought is given to what is required to make their near-instant gratification possible. That is the nature of business competition – the nature of capitalism. But what I find dismaying about this is not the near-instant gratification for items you may have trouble getting anywhere except online; now consumers are ordering things they could just as easily buy at the local store. This article, in which a man explains that he orders his 40-pound bags of dog food from Amazon because he doesn’t want to be bothered with carrying them through a store, to his car, and into his house, is a case in point. The convenience of home delivery makes it worth it to him to pay for Amazon’s Prime service. For a flat annual fee, delivery is free – delivery of anything Amazon sells, no matter the size or the weight. When I read the article, I felt sadness, contempt, anger, disgust – all those knee-jerk, visceral reactions to what amounts to sheer laziness on the part of this consumer… but is it really laziness, or is it economic hegemony? After all, why not maximize your own time and convenience if it only takes a few dollars a year to have household items delivered straight to your door?

    And so we come to the crux of my rant. I think the Amazon model is bad for us. I think instant gratification is bad for us. I think Amazon, and the competition it has engendered, is destroying our ability to be patient, to be thoughtful, to be mindful of all the hidden economic exploitation that is required for us to get what we want NOW. I admit I’m not free of responsibility for my own part in this, but I am doing my part to react against it by finding any outlet other than online for getting the things I want and need. And, if I do make an online purchase, I try to buy directly from the source rather than from Amazon. When possible, I buy from small online businesses, and plan for the possibility that my order may take a week – or more! – to arrive. I re-read the Mother Jones article, and I hope for a time when the pendulum swings and the price of an item, including shipping, truly reflects the cost of doing business this way. And this is not just a monetary cost; it is a social and cultural cost, and it is helping to perpetuate the systematic inequality and labor exploitation that is inherent in the capitalist marketplace.

  • Technology and Its Discontents: Alienation

    Technology and Its Discontents: Alienation

    As the industrial age took hold in the late 17th and early 18th centuries and began its saturation of the globe, a curious phenomenon began to take place. People who had once labored for themselves – doing what they needed to do to support themselves, their families, and their communities – began laboring for others. They quit their simpler lives and moved to bigger towns, then cities, seeking and finding employment in factories, assembly lines, and sweatshops, laboring to produce things over which they had no ownership. The logical outcome of a capitalist world system began to spread and solidify, requiring that people work for others to support themselves, but have no ownership of the fruits of their labor. Yes, these laborers were paid for their work, but unlike when people engaged in farming, hunting, small trades such as blacksmithing, horseshoeing, wheel-wrighting, candle and soap making, carpentry, and all the simple but vital labors for which people could once get paid, the only thing this new class of laborer owned was themselves. All they could sell was their labor.

    This is the microcosm of what is called industrial alienation. It’s what happens when all people can sell is themselves, and they have no ownership of the means of production. They become a commodity, no different than the raw materials used in manufacturing the things they are paid to make. In the modern world system of capitalism, most people can only sell themselves for the money they need to support themselves and survive. To an enormous extent in the Western industrialized world, this has meant that nearly everybody has forgotten how to survive in the way our ancestors did – by knowing actually how to find and produce food and shelter. Labor has become so extraordinarily specialized in this brave new world that most people no longer have any connection with the basics of survival. Even worse, we have become alienated not just from what we do, but from our very purpose for living. Why are we here? What is the point? Do I even matter? These are not questions asked in cultures where people are still able to support themselves with the knowledge of actual, physical, animal survival. That, itself, is the point: survival. In the face of securing it for yourself and your group, there is no need, no room, for existential questions. Those questions are created by alienation.

    This is a winding road to some thoughts about technology. Humans have always sought to answer the basic question of why we are here, probably since the dawn of the species, and have found a variety of answers (often in the supernatural and religion). Now, though, I think technology is filling the hole of our alienation. Specifically, we are filling our existential emptiness with social media. Posting, Tweeting, sharing, Instagramming – they all provide a sense that we matter. They give us a way to be acknowledged (or so we think) by others. They remind us: I exist. The urge, the compulsion, is so strong that we will risk our relationships, our jobs, our educations, our safety or even our lives to fulfill it by doing all those things while driving, or walking, or cycling, or eating, or watching TV, or at the movies, at work, at school, at a football game, at a wedding, a funeral, anytime, everywhere. Yesterday I could have mowed down a woman glued to her phone, scrolling endlessly, as she walked obliviously down the center aisle of a parking lot. I have sat with friends while they pretend to be engaging with me, but they are staring, staring, staring at the phone. I have been accosted with pictures, videos, websites, texts that the other person insisted I see. And, I have done most of those things myself. I understand.

    Humans are extraordinarily social primates. It is no surprise to me at all that social media has exploded into a frenzy of self-referential attention seeking. Humans are also status-seeking animals, and the feedback we crave from our social sharing is highly addictive. It is a constant lure for us to try to elevate or affirm our status amongst our peers. But as with anything, there can be too much. Just as the buzz of alcohol can make us feel attractive, funny, and smart, so can the buzz of our relentless technological distractions make us feel noticed, important, and liked (if not loved). But the alcohol buzz wears off, and so does the brief high we receive from seeing who has responded to our online presence. Alcohol can become an addiction, and so can technology. It is not a good way to fill the hole left by our alienation.

    I am not immune to the lure of technology, but I am thinking deeply about it and making some decisions about how much I am willing to let it intrude upon my life. I understand that there are also positive aspects to our use of phones and computers, et al (for example, the fact that I can write and share these thoughts). But at the moment I am deeply uneasy, and I am making a conscious effort to concentrate on the world outside the screens.

  • Anti Anti-Bacterial

    Anti Anti-Bacterial

    I have a confession to make: sometimes I defrost chicken on the counter. I also eat pizza or leftovers that have sat out overnight. I frequently give a perfunctory sniff to milk that is still in my fridge past the date on the carton, and if it doesn’t smell wrong I drink it. I don’t always wash fresh fruit and vegetables before eating them. If my cheese is moldy, I trim it off then eat the remaining cheese. I’ve ingested potato salad that has baked in the sun. I don’t use a thermometer to make sure my meat has reached an internal temperature of 165 degrees before I remove it from the grill or the oven, I drink water straight from the tap, and I never, ever, use antibacterial wipes to sanitize the handle of my grocery store shopping cart.

    I believe we are doing ourselves a grave disservice with our obsession over cleanliness in this country. By now, most people have heard of the problems that have arisen from the misuse of antibiotics. We have bred superbugs by overprescribing antibiotics and overusing antibacterial products. This is natural selection, pure and simple: when you take antibiotics inappropriately, either by asking for them for illnesses that are not caused by bacteria (e.g. colds, flus, and other viruses) or by not taking the full course of medication for genuine bacterial infections, only the weak bugs get killed, and the strongest ones survive to pass on their DNA to the next generation. And, bacteria have very, very, very short generation times – as short as a few minutes in many cases (compare that to the human generation time of approximately 20 years). This scourge has been helped along by the proliferation of antibacterial household products – dish soap, laundry soap, cleaners, etc. – as well as a paranoid overabundance of hand sanitizers, antibacterial hand soap, and antibacterial wipes. I was stunned when handy popup dispensers of these wipes started appearing at the front of grocery cart stalls with friendly signs inviting shoppers to wipe down the cart handle. I was frustrated when I was unable to find non-antibacterial dish or hand soap at the store. And lately I have found myself furious at commercials that cluck disapprovingly at the fictional mom who uses *GASP* a dishrag to wipe her toddler’s high chair tray instead of a disposable, antibacterial towelette, or who fails to install a popup dispenser of disposable hand towels in her bathroom.

    What the hell has happened to us? Well, other than breeding superbugs, we are also breeding a generation of weaker, sicklier children. New research is showing the vital importance of the bacterial colonies that live on and in our bodies, colonies that we change – sometimes irreversibly – through our misuse of antibacterial products. When we take antibiotics, we kill the healthy flora in our gut along with the illness-causing bacteria. When we constantly douse children with antibacterial gel, we don’t allow them the healthy exposure to bugs that they need to build a natural immunity. Ever wonder why seemingly mild illnesses can kill when they are brought into contact with populations that have never experienced them? It’s because they didn’t get that exposure as children. In fact, in parts of the Amazon it’s actually illegal for outsiders to try to contact indigenous tribes because they have no immunity to modern diseases. Vaccines operate on this basic, simple principle: limited exposure to a pathogen (viruses, in the case of vaccines) trains the body to recognize it the next time, and the body is already primed with the appropriate immune response. The same is true of early childhood exposure to bacteria and other pathogens and allergens. Increases in asthma and allergies in kids appears to be directly correlated with being too clean.

    As far as I know, I have had food poisoning three times in my life. I’m sure there have been other instances but there’s only three that I can identify with absolute certainty. As far as I can tell, I have never gotten food poisoning from room-temperature defrosted or undercooked meat, unwashed produce, or countertop leftovers. I happily gnawed on the grocery-cart handle as a kid, and my mom never doused me with antibacterials. I haven’t always washed my hands before eating or even after using the bathroom. I have no allergies, no asthma, and a healthy, normally functioning immune system. I catch an occasional cold – maybe once a year – and haven’t had the flu since last century. Now, my experience is of course anecdotal, not scientific. But the research to show what our dependence on some mythical standard of cleanliness is doing to us is out there, and I think society as a whole would be wise to heed it. Yes, wash your hands, sneeze into your elbow, be aware of seasonal illnesses like the flu, and minimize your exposure to pathogens when possible, but be rational about it, and don’t be sucked in by the antibacterial panic.