The writer Upton Sinclair may not have invented risk communication in the United States, but he surely provided one of the most important, most faithfully likened models that has been followed, for better or worse, ever since.
Sinclair’s “The Jungle” exposed the appalling labor and sanitary conditions that pervaded the meat-processing and -packing industry in early 20th-century Chicago. It was a spectacular wake-up call, and though Sinclair, an unapologetic socialist, was at least partially moved by political goals to pen his masterpiece, no one could ignore the substance of his story.
Whether socialism, communism, or capitalism was ultimately the solution, Sinclair had clearly identified the problem.
At some level or another, those who utilize risk communication to advance their agendas in 21st-century America owe a debt to Sinclair. That statement certainly isn’t intended to be a criticism, in any way, of Sinclair or his signature work. It is rather to observe that the sincere, important tone of the work of pioneers such as Sinclair and Sierra Club founder John Muir is too often hijacked by modern-day personages and organizations whose biases are often more obvious and troubling.
There’s a formula used to communicate the importance of a particular risk utilized by those who hope to profit from a scary message. In this context, the word “profit” may, and often does, refer to monetary gain. But it can also refer to political gain. Sometimes, it can refer to personal gain as measured by that nebulous term “self-esteem,” which is to observe that the United States has no shortage of would-be Erin Brockovichs, convinced they have heroically uncovered the latest evil plot to poison their neighbors and babies.
Risk-Communication Playbook
One can’t help but wonder if playbooks exist for using risk-based communication to accomplish a goal. I suspect that several such documents exist, on Madison Avenue, in the headquarters of both major political parties, and at hundreds of other locations associated with decision-makers, or would-be decision-makers, in modern-day America. That playbook would probably involve these three steps:A Case Study
Returning to lead, as an example, it’s long been established to be a dangerous toxin. Most of the public thinks of it that way and neither knows nor cares that what makes a substance toxic involves a route of exposure and the amount of the substance to which one is exposed.Children who eat lead paint chips are in danger because the route of exposure (ingestion) is particularly dangerous with lead and because lead paint contains a lot of lead relative to its toxicity. On the other hand, whether you use an aftermarket water filter or not, the water we drink will always contain some measurable amount of lead, but that amount is so small in both cases that it presents no risk. The principle “the dose makes the poison” applies, as it does for every other substance on Earth.
Relative toxicity notwithstanding, condition one has thus been long fulfilled: Lead is perceived as scary and since we all drink water, the pool of interested parties is huge. Condition two has been fulfilled because concerns about lead have been around for a long time. An expert is not needed, because “lead is dangerous” has become part of common knowledge. The important issues of the route of exposure and amount of exposure can thus be safely ignored by those who wish to cash in on fear of lead.
Which brings us to step three. People market products designed to remove lead from the water you drink and the air you breathe. Pet bowls constructed of stainless steel are marketed as lead-free, despite the fact that stainless steel, like most every kind of steel, contains a minute but measurable amount of lead. Is there any way for the lead in stainless steel to break free of the metal’s crystalline structure on the microscopic level? Not really, but the public has little time for such nuances. If our pet bowl manufacturer wants to cash in on lead-phobia, then he must call his product “lead free.”
This model has been applied to a host of items that put the public ill at ease. Indeed, neither the organic food industry nor the non-GMO craze would exist without it. But, as we shall see in the next installment to this series, the use of risk communication to market products has recently taken an ugly turn, one that involves one of my favorite beverages: beer.