Since the beginning of the pandemic and subsequent lockdowns, many media outlets have boldly released articles that have discouraged readers from doing their own research on the complexities of the pandemic.

The attempts to dissuade you and I from critical thought—expressed at times with a deep personal desire for blissful ignorance—have become quite striking. Regardless of intent, the effect of these articles is to sandbag the burgeoning waters of skepticism toward the popular responses to the pandemic. Evidently, if you have a question about the efficacy of lockdowns, you are thrown into the moral landfill with the rest of the grandma-killers; if you express concern about young children wearing masks, you obviously don’t care about their health; if you suggest that maybe not everyone needs to get vaccinated—or worse yet, display some hesitancy on your own part—then you are the reason why we are still in this mess and are declared persona non grata.

I suspect that anyone who champions such lines of questioning—whether they would agree with the conclusions or not—will be considered problematic in the light of the current popular Canadian sentiment. The implication is that the four words—do your own research—are inherently dangerous, starting those who take up such a foolish task on a journey fraught with peril that will ultimately lead to the doom of us all—or at least to the end of themselves at significant cost to the taxpayer.

Certainly, self-directed research can stray down paths of inquiry that are dead-ends or red herrings if one does not exercise restraint; today, conspiracy theories abound, fruitlessly ascribing sinister motivations of a Biblical magnitude to all manner of actors, both state and non-state.

But these articles conveniently set up for themselves a strawman that they can easily knock down by suggesting that those who choose to seek answers to their growing list of questions (which our mainstream channels of information continue to ignore) are lacking the ability to understand the complexities of medical science. They are not themselves in the lab, spearheading a research project relating to the efficacy of such-and-such an intervention. It is an argument made in bad faith—whom among us can boast to be at the cutting edge of research in the fields of evolutionary biology, or virology? If I am not a nutritionist, does that preclude me from reading food labels—an expression of the question: what is in this food?

Few Canadians are in the technical trenches of academic science, therefore each one of us is beholden to the expertise of those who are. We are all of us simply choosing—either by omission or commission—which of the experts are trustworthy. And, unfortunately for the powers-that-be, it isn’t as simple as having consensus or an approved platform, since there are significant problems with the platform itself.

Consensus on a subject of study is naturally achieved over time as a hypothesis is challenged and re-challenged. Should the hypothesis survive, evidence becomes stacked in its favour until it is cemented in the minds of experts—and subsequently the public. However, the word consensus itself can be deceptive since unanimity may be reached by more than one trajectory—some trajectories being more legitimate than others, as Sonja Boehmer-Christiansen argues. In her article, Political Pressure in the Formation of Scientific Consensus, Boehmer-Christiansen suggests that consensus becomes especially suspect when it is achieved quickly and early regarding a new topic of discussion and research. She concludes:

“Pressures for a consensus are indeed strong and come from many directions: bureaucracies, politicians and fellow scientists, as well as social scientists seeking rational recipes for ‘policy-makers’. Yet political institutions thrive on uncertainty. They come to view science as a source of arguments, legitimisation and authority for policy objectives which may have very little to do with science.”

The word consensus tends to be implemented into dialogue as an appeal to authority to suggest unanimity where unanimity does not exist. Many scientists and science-minded individuals have commented on value of consensus, suggesting that it ultimately has no place in the scientific process—it tends to be the tool of policymakers, expressed only when the science is weak as a method of skirting debate. A true, natural consensus does not need to be expressed as such; it simply is.

It is safe to assume that the reason the power of consensus is invoked so often is because it works. We find today that many Canadians and others around the globe agree—either in expressed allegiance or practice—with the dominant scientific narratives being birthed and tended to even now. Trust is an important factor to achieve buy-in, with those less trusting of particular institutions being more willing to look at their dealings with a critical eye.

When it comes to trustworthy sources, here is a graph that indicates that most Canadians—in this survey, derived from a sample of 2,000 Canadians—have a deep trust of and primary exposure to our provincial and national news sources and thus the experts they choose to give exposure. It is telling that large portions of Canadians have an intense distrust of any other source of information—which includes the news and responses of other nations towards the pandemic, many of which have made different decisions entirely that have resulted in positive outcomes. While the results from the varied international responses to the pandemic have been mixed over the past 18 months, the choices shed light on the possibility of other methods—methods which seem to be lost on Canadians and those that govern them.

There is also a large degree of distrust towards personalities outside of the approved spectrum of discussion (see: Joe Rogan and his guests, many of whom are experts in their field). What’s more, the Canadian distrust is disproportionate to the exposure. The graph suggests that viewers will cast aside other perspectives without even critically engaging with them. And so, the potential wisdom of knowledgeable friends and family members is repudiated, as well as any information coming from below the border and abroad.

Despite the contrarian arguments presented by myriad ostracized scientists—ones of equal expertise to the approved professionals highlighted in corporate media—the Canadian public seems firmly planted on the road our leaders have prescribed for us. This is unsurprising, as most of us are being exposed to a single narrative, one that is being pushed forward without critical public reflection while the other narratives, some of which take a more nuanced and conservative approach, are trampled by the consensus, and cast aside as chaff.

It is an argument in bad faith to suggest that one takes the intellectual high road by swallowing the information given to us directly by the government while denigrating those who seek, perhaps not even exclusively but additionally, alternative sources of expert information. Why, or even how could it be such: is it better to trust one source of information implicitly, unquestioningly while assuming the inaccuracy of another—without even engaging with it?

Such an orientation is deeply irrational. A healthy dose of skepticism is needed, especially when we consider the recent legacy of popular media, especially the media closest to home. Unless you are particularly amnesic—or simply not paying attention—the flip-flopping on ethical issues by our politicians and public health officers should certainly cause Canadians to at least raise an eyebrow.

Although there are some who would try to convince us otherwise, a raised eyebrow does not necessitate diving into rabbit holes. It certainly does, however, indicate a need to ask questions.