As I was standing there fishing in Appalachia today I was thinking about yesterday’s post. I realized a couple of things that I didn’t include and so I’m going to say them now.
First off, I’ve lived the better part of 60 years on this planet, and I remember when we didn’t have vaccines for certain diseases. I really find it disturbing when I hear about some of these antivax conspiracy weirdos talking about having a party to get all their kids infected so they’ll “develop immunity.” I suffered with some of those diseases and was thankfully vaccinated against others. I think it’s the worst kind of stupid to think that getting infected—with all the risks associated with each of those diseases, which are not benign—is somehow better than getting a shot.
I’ll climb off of that soapbox—but not before giving folks a quick breakdown of the scientific method. Because apparently, a lot of people skipped that part in school or got their education from TikTok and talk radio.
Let’s start with this: a *theory* is not “just an idea.” It’s not something you scribbled on a napkin while high on Mountain Dew. A theory is an explanation that has been tested over and over, refined, and supported with evidence.
Step one: Ask a question. Tangible or intangible, this question usually stems from an observation. No evidence yet—just curiosity.
Step two: Do your homework. See if someone has asked the same question. What data exists? Who collected it? What’s their agenda? That’s what literature review is—finding out what’s already out there.
Step three: Formulate a hypothesis. It should be simple and testable. “If I do X, then Y will happen.” Don’t get greedy—one question at a time. Science isn’t an all-you-can-eat buffet. It’s more like chewing through drywall with your teeth: slow, painful, and very specific.
Step four: Devise a research plan. This means coming up with a way to test your hypothesis with an adequate sample size. Not ten kids from your church group. Something representative. Repeatable. Solid.
Step five: Analyze the data. If your hypothesis is correct—great! But if it isn’t? That’s not failure. That’s *data.* Sometimes disproving a hypothesis is as valuable as proving it. Science isn’t about ego. It’s about discovery.
The gold standard is replication. If other people can repeat your results, congratulations. Your hypothesis just leveled up to a theory.
Now why am I ranting about this? Because people like Secretary Kennedy and his science-denying friends don’t understand this process. They have “gut feelings” and magical thinking. They reject peer-reviewed studies in favor of “some guy on YouTube.”
And sadly, these are the people influencing healthcare policy.
You can believe what you want, but don’t expect the rest of us to bow to your delusions. Belief isn’t fact. And no amount of shouting your nonsense makes it truth.
We need more real conversations—not just yelling and conspiracy parroting.
Thankfully, my dog only asks for treats, and my mom loves me no matter what I believe. As yours should. Back to the Wasteland
