True Warnings and False Alarms about Technology, 1948-1971 (review)

In this book Allan Mazur revisits Edward Lawless's Technology and Social Shock (1977) in order to determine whether a nuanced historical analysis might, in hindsight, help us discover the rhetorical and scientific clues that distinguish "true" from "false" warnings about health risks during the period from 1948 to 1971. Although he does not unearth new or surprising findings in relation to the thirty-one case studies he selects from Lawless's original assessment, Mazur's careful methodology and balanced perspective provide valuable categories of analysis for social scientists and historians investigating the role of government, science, and the media in promulgating both credible warnings and "false alarms." Mazur's careful attention to definition in relation to risk, his caution in assigning voice and agency to quasi-scientific and/or governmental warnings, and his reflexive understanding of the strengths and limitations of his methods will make this work especially valuable for students in both history and social science.

Mazur acknowledges that there will always be some uncertainty in assigning truth or falsehood to risk warnings. Concerning the so-called Toxic Cranberry crisis of 1959, for example, Mazur raises the potential of a "single hit" hypothesis, even though experts no longer have any interest in justifying this fiasco. Even when warnings are unwarranted by the available evidence—as in Ralph Nader's concerns about MSG in baby food—Mazur is careful to note that such alarms must be taken seriously when (a) the additive has no direct health benefits and (b) the potential damage to stakeholders (infants in this case) is high. Mazur notes that even false warnings may prompt manufacturers to assess less-toxic additives like sugar and salt in baby foods. He is also careful to distinguish the types of evidence (regulatory versus empirical, for example) and the wide range of sources available for different hazards.

Mazur recognizes that "truth, for most adults, comes from the news media" (p. 103). In tracking the genealogy of warnings against fluoridation, mercury in tuna, taconite pollution, and cyclamates, he shows how the origins of these warnings are qualitatively different from "orphan warnings," such as the death of a physician from botulism after eating Bon Vivant vichyssoise. Mazur observes that we may thus miss important information, because warnings that are not associated with other, similar stories have a "tougher time breaking into the media" (p. 104).

In asking whether there are "early clues" that help us distinguish true from false warnings, Mazur takes on both constructivist and relativist accounts of risk. Although many readers will challenge the apparently simple dichotomies between "pristine" and "derived" warnings, "hyped" and "routine" press coverage, or "biased" and "unbiased" media accounts, his case studies illustrate the meaning of these categories in ways that are neither overly simplistic nor compromising. In balancing the claims of prudent progress against the precautionary principle, for example, Mazur warns that "truth matters" because policymakers must ultimately weigh the pros and cons of funding particular risk options.

Mazur's conclusions are tempered by careful articulation of the uncertainties, assumptions, decisions, and opposing claims that have influenced his answers. His work thus provides a model for the kinds of analysis needed to unpack claims to truth in an uncertain world, and the summaries of cases in the appendix will provide good material for class discussions. Ultimately, this short and refreshing book will have its greatest impact in helping scholars reframe questions about the relationship between history and policy in relation to risk, prompting new analyses of old cases and providing a framework for testing predictions about the role of scientific argument in risk controversies.