Smash Bad Science: The Bizarre Case of the Doubling Marmot

Figure One: Oh my god, I am so glad to have this on my blog. Isn’t it perfect?

One thing that I’d like to do with myself is to teach The Public how to describe how to spot and mock Bad Science. Since I don’t actually know any Public, my poor little blog will have to bear the burden as I practice.

Bad Science! I love it so much. Nothing gives me more pleasure than to pick up a newspaper and get worked up about Bad Science Journalism. Oh, how I love stomping into comment threads, snatching the toys out of people’s hands, and destroying them, so that they can never take pleasure in Psychology Today again. ELODIE SMASH EVO-PSYCH! Delicious. Such delicious smashing.

ELODIE WANT SHARE JOY OF SMASHING WITH FRIENDS! So welcome to Smash Bad Science, Issue Number 1: The Bizarre Case of the Doubling Marmot.

We’re going to start with a lovely easy one: this article. (Warning: Link leads to Daily Mail.)

Figure Two:  Widdle moist nosicles. This is perfect for my blog.

This article is perfect for this, really. It’s one of those heartwarming cutesy stories that feature a small child bonding with adorable animals. So many mammals! Who wouldn’t love it?!

Now, if you read through the article, there is a piece of Bad Science Journalism that you should be able to spot without any fancy degrees or special marmot-loving status. See if you can find it! The answer is behind the cut.

I’ve highlighted it below – did you get it right?

Figure Three: Spot the Bad Science!

“Bizarrely, the animals are heavier in the autumn, when they DOUBLE THEIR WEIGHT.”

“BIZARRELY, marmots gain weigh in the autumn.”

Run this through your head a few times while I draw your attention to this scene. This is the Daily Mail newsroom on August 26, when this sad little article was brought forth into the world.

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“RACHEL,” an Editor howls at Rachel McDermott, the perpetrator of this article. “COME IN HERE FOR A MOMENT.”

Rachel stumbles in, glassy-eyed, poorly-animated. She is not bright-eyed or bushy-tailed, because she is, in fact, a small colony of frightened and exploited hamsters, piloting a broken-down human suit. “Yes, Ma’am,” the Lead Hamster shrills.

“RACHEL.” The Editor is not capable of speaking without depressing the CAPSLOCK BUTTON, as she is actually a long-dead consciousness trapped in a decaying mortal form whose vocal cords have long since rotted away, such that she can only communicate by hunt-and-peck typing, like a grandmother on the internet. “RACHEL, THERE IS NOTHING BIZARRE IN YOUR ARTICLE ABOUT THE MARMOTS.”

“Oh, Editor,” the hamsters pipe sadly, “There is nothing bizarre about the marmots at all. They are sweet and cuddly and full of plush. Humans like them. See how the human child frolics with them, as if he was one of their littermates! See how they accept him as one of their pups.”

“PUT IN SOMETHING BIZARRE,” the Editor intones. “IT IS FOR…” The corpses’s eyes roll unanchored in their staring sockets. “HUMAN INTEREST. HUMANS LIKE INTEREST. YES. IT IS REMEMBERED.”

The Rachel’s hamsters sweat, under dozens of tiny hamster armpits. They cower in their fragile shell. “We are only little hamsters,” they think desperately, “We should never have left the pet shop. We know nothing of marmots! None of our articles are bizarre enough! How lonely we are.”

The Editor’s jaw gapes vacantly. “THE SMELL OF YOU EVOKES THE HUNGER. BURIED MEMORIES STIR. I MUST HAVE FLESH.”

Thinking quickly, the Rachel removes one of the hamsters from her gut area and tosses it into the rotting maw of her Editor. Another piece of her soul squeaks as it dies, and the other hamsters sigh in tiny unison. This happens every day. There is no mourning any more; this is the Daily Mail.

“RACHEL MCDERMOTT,” The Editor says. “YOU MUST ADD MORE MARMOT FACTS TO YOUR ARTICLE. MAKE IT… BIZARRE.”

The Rachel McDermott rocks unsteadily back to her desk, her feet-hamsters seizing with fear. She pulls up a Wikipedia article and stares blankly. Her hamsters struggle to comprehend. The article is full of long words like woodchuck and hibernation. The hamsters whine with trepidation.

“Bizarrely,” The Rachel McDermott types laboriously, hamsters trembling, “the animals are heavier in the autumn.”

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THE ANSWER:

Marmots, also called woodchucks, groundhogs and whistlepigs, hibernate in the winter. They live off their fat stores, which they gain by munching from spring until autumn.

This is a Known Fact. It is as fixed, obvious and constant as the fact that bears poo in the woods. In fact, it is MORE fixed, MORE constant, because some bears don’t live in the woods, and ALL MARMOTS HIBERNATE. It is not bizarre – it is not remotely bizarre – unless you are a colony of frightened slave hamsters, a small child who still finds “Peekaboo” to be a Russian roulette of existential uncertainty, or the average target audience of the Daily Mail.

Great! Now I want to draw your attention to this article by the Daily Mail Online, published today (September 12.)

Figure Four: COINCIDENCE? CONSPIRACY?

What a bizarre scene, indeed! How absolutely wacky. How darling the marmots are! What excellent reportage! Chris Parsons of the Daily Mail, a gold star for YOU. You, sir, are a Journalist of the highest caliber. Nellie Bly has nothing on you.

But dear Chris Parsons, we are slightly concerned, because in your article we spotted this:

Figure Five: NOOOOOO CHRIS PARSONS NOOOOO!!!

CHRIS PARSONS! THAT IS PLAGIARISM! PLAGIARISM OF THE STUPIDEST CALIBER!

CHRIS PARSONS…. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO RACHEL!?!?

…

Figure Six: We apologize for the inconvenience. It gets very silly in here.

Anyway.

It appears that the extent of the Daily Mail’s research extends only to dragging themselves over to the Science Desk, where “Bizarrely, the animals are heavier in the autumn, when they can weigh up to 8kg, in comparison to 3kg in the spring months” is scribbled on a single damp Post-It note. This is where the rest of the shared Marmot Information file is kept. This is why all mentions of the marmots in the Daily Mail wax rhapsodically on the shyness, demureness and secretiveness of these rare Alpine creatures, displayed directly under a picture of a marmot draped with adoring squirrels, holding up the award for Most Extroverted Rodent.

Further comparisons between the articles reveal a rich seam of information. Interestingly, the marmots in both articles live in the same place, indicating that the little boy probably isn’t actually a marmotmaster- the animals seem to be quite well-socialized, casually mugging a 67-year-old two weeks later for his expensive camera equipment. In one of the pictures in the second article, they are actually seizing and tugging on his khaki pants, like children demanding a story.

“The 67-year-old from Germany watched on helplessly as the notoriously shy creature approached his camera,” Chris chuckles.

“They are notoriously shy around humans,” Rachel agrees, “beating their tails and chattering their teeth to try to warn us off before emitting loud whistles to tell other members of their colony to flee.”

Is this a love story after all? Did I have this completely wrong?

Chris stares into Rachel’s eyes. “Normally, when seeing an intruder, a marmot will become defensive and try to warn them off by beating their tail and chattering their teeth.” He leans closer.

“You know so much about marmots, Chris,” she whispers.

“Isn’t it bizarre?” he growls. They kiss like rodents emerging from hibernation…

But this isn’t entirely a case of a symbiotic love affair. Rachel called the Marmot Mountain the Groslocker area, but Chris more correctly identified it as Grossglockner; indicating that Chris’s hamsters are of slightly higher quality (although not averse to a bit of light plagiarism.) This, folks, in conclusion, is why the Daily Mail is not a Reputable News Source. Although I love the cute pictures of marmots.

Verdict: SMASH WITH ME, FRIENDS!

And also, do me a favor? If you spot any Bad Science in the news, please let me know! It doesn’t have to be as egregiously bad as this. Send me things that smell a bit off, or make you uncomfortable, or arguments about evolutionary biology that sound right except for the fact that they don’t seem to fit into reality.

Marmot kisses,

Elodie