Nothing is known for sure
Whether it’s aggressive bacteria or horny men, political scenarios or economic forecasts: when you follow public debates in the media, you get the impression that speculation takes precedence over research. Guest commentary by Josefa Haas, Director of the Media Institute.
The cucumbers were to blame first, and then the ones from Spain. Of course they were, I concluded, as I had recently seen a shocking report on mass production in El Ejido. For a moment, the disaster had a conciliatory effect: it pays to pay attention to the origin of vegetables when shopping and to give preference to seasonal local produce. And the next day, the cucumber salad proudly labeled "Swiss product" tasted particularly good. One of the best aha moments is the satisfaction we get when a threat doesn't affect us because we can think clearly, make rational decisions and simply explain to anyone who wants to know why this is good and that is bad. Editors also get this satisfaction when they can quickly provide their readers, or users who are digitally and multimedia-based, with answers: This one is to blame. They can help. And that's how you have to behave. That way you can quickly get everything back under control. Uncertainty, on the other hand, is very unpleasant and is therefore avoided with preference. Apparently, no catastrophe is more frightening than admitting that you don't (yet) know anything. Thanks to research, one threat after another seems to have been taken out of our way. Thanks to the Internet, we can find out about anything at any time. And if we have a question, it is sure to be answered quickly thanks to swarm intelligence.
In Lausanne, a very clever person even wants to decode and recreate our brains. Soon we will know what makes people human and what holds the world together at its core. Humans are the most curious creatures in the world. That's why he never rests: no sooner has he pushed open one door of knowledge than another closes in front of him. No wonder, then, that ignorance stresses us out and we are restless in our search for answers.
The media can rejoice in people's curiosity and need for control. Every day, and now every second, there is a demand for more facts and opinions. Professor XY from XY University, for example, is allowed to speculate on what could be the cause of the EHEC bacterium. A lack of rain, sprouts, biogas plants or even terrorists could be responsible for the pathogen. Every time you check the news pages on the internet, new explanations are presented. The subtle difference between a thesis and a proven fact is quickly lost. Unfortunately, these speculations not only have harmless consequences, such as cucumber jokes, but also drastic economic ones. Who will be liable for cucumber slurs in the future?
Like the media, many experts also benefit from the art of groping in the dark. Particularly clever ones use rhetoric that makes their statements appear to be correct predictions in historical hindsight. If you want to learn more about this, it is best to study the art of card reading, as demonstrated by Mike Shiva and his colleagues. Certain spin doctors are also particularly adept at supporting political and economic turncoats with arguments in such a way that they don't break their own necks in the process and ultimately believe themselves that they knew or even said what was going on from the outset.
Nevertheless, we have to come to terms with the fact that certain mysteries remain unsolved. Even if the media want to take on the role of the all-knowing person who has an answer to every question, even Google doesn't always help us. If no culprit is found for the EHEC bacteria, we can still console ourselves with the explanation that they mutated purely for the fun of it. In the words of Karl Valentin, we are left with the realization: "We don't know anything for sure."
