I blame it entirely on my parents. They grew up in an era when science was less a discipline and more a fireworks show of human progress. We’re talking about:

– Quantum Mechanics
– Relativity
– Nuclear Fission
– The Atomic Bomb
– DNA’s Double Helix
– Penicillin
– Sulfa Drugs
– Vitamins
– Digital Computing
– Jet Engines
– Transistors
– Plate Tectonics

To them, science wasn’t just fascinating—it was awe-inspiring. Antibiotics alone have saved hundreds of millions of lives. The discovery of vitamins prevented once-mysterious diseases like beriberi, rickets, scurvy, and anemia. Jet engines shrank the world. Atomic energy promised (in theory) clean, limitless power. And transistors? They made it possible to carry a radio, TV, phone, and computer—in your pocket.

Science made the world more understandable. More livable. Occasionally, downright miraculous.

So it’s no wonder Dad became a scientist. He believed in contributing to the world’s knowledge bank, making life safer and more comprehensible for his kids and everyone else. And he swore by the scientific method.

Here’s how it works, in case you missed eighth grade:

1. Observation – Spot something odd or interesting.
2. Question – Ask why that thing is happening.
3. Hypothesis – Make an educated guess.
4. Experiment – Test it, control for variables, and keep it repeatable.
5. Data Collection & Analysis – Track what happens, crunch the numbers.
6. Conclusion – Confirm or refute the hypothesis.
7. Repeat & Report – Peer review or it didn’t happen.

The magic? Objectivity. Bias gets booted out the door, and even failed experiments teach us something.

Dad applied that logic to everything—including dinner conversations. Any kid who tossed out a bold claim got grilled harder than the meatloaf. Professionally, he was once described as “the guy who’d circle a flock of white sheep just to make sure they weren’t black on the other side.” High praise in scientific circles.

But let’s not dump all the blame on Dad. My hometown played a role too. It was absolutely marinating in science thanks to three nearby institutions:

– Bell Telephone Laboratories
– Ciba-Geigy
– Merck & Co.

Collectively? Fourteen Nobel Prizes. If our high school had taught anything but the scientific method, the local PTA would’ve had a full-on China Syndrome meltdown.

So yeah, I admit it—I’m biased. I’ve been scientifically indoctrinated. And I believe in the method because it’s the most reliable, logical, self-correcting system we’ve got. Let’s recap:

– Empirical observation
– Logical testing
– Feedback and correction
– Repetition to minimize error
– Predictive application

What doesn’t work? Random hunches. Evidence-free speculation. Gut-check policymaking.

Case in point:

Ivermectin. Promoted by a certain orange-hued former president and some very online believers as a COVID-19 miracle cure. The rationale? It killed a virus in a petri dish once. Spoiler: It didn’t help with COVID. No impact on hospitalizations, symptoms, or death. But plenty of people got sick—or died—because they trusted vibes over data.

Thimerosal and autism. The myth comes from a thoroughly debunked study by Andrew Wakefield. It was retracted. His license was yanked. Subsequent studies—big ones, across countries—found zero link. And fun fact: when Thimerosal was removed from some vaccines, autism rates still went up. So much for that theory.

Enter RFK Jr. and his new vaccine panel. Out went 17 qualified immunologists. In came a hand-picked chorus of quacks and question marks:

– A COVID misinformation peddler
– A business professor with no medical background
– A psychologist/nutritionist with zero infectious disease experience
– An ER doc with no vaccine expertise
– An anti-vaccine activist

Their big recommendation? Ditch the flu shot if it contains Thimerosal—based not on science, but conjecture and paranoia.

Here’s what that genius move risks per year in the U.S.:

– 10,000 avoidable deaths
– 3.7 million medical visits
– 58,000 hospitalizations

All to chase a ghost. Even worse, by obsessing over a debunked Thimerosal theory, they’re slowing real autism research. Science isn’t the problem here—distraction is.

You know who loves to say they’re all about data? Businesspeople. Trump says it. Musk claims it. But the facts are clear: Thimerosal is safe. Swapping it out could cost upwards of $300 million—with no benefit.

But here we are, letting fear, conspiracy, and wishful thinking steer public policy. The result? More illness. More death. More wasted money. And less actual problem-solving.

So yeah—I believe in science. You should too.