I’d argue that any amount of knowledge is a good thing. It is a little bit of information that is likely to trip you up.
As many of you know, I am a science and medicine writer in another life—the more lucrative one, but that’s not saying much—and so I spend many of my days immersed in the worlds of scientific and medical discoveries and blundering. I even spent several years working at a biochemistry bench as a scientist—you may genuflect, now—so I know the world of which I speak.
For this reason, I tend to view science and medicine as a work-in-progress, as so much noise with moments of signal. Rarely do I herald the hype and equally rarely do I despair the bumps.
To my friends who see every announcement as a breakthrough, I am a cynic. And likewise, to everyone who pounces on every setback as evidence of mass conspiracy, I am a complicit shill. Whatever.
The challenge comes when I engage in a discussion of the topic du jour, because more often than not, the person with whom I am talking is adamant that he or she knows the truth. They are empowered by something they have heard or read from a renown expert. They have information.
(Let me state here that I do not believe that I am the holder of all truths. I do feel, however, that I have a good handle on what I do not know, and just as importantly, what is not yet known for certain.)
So, let’s start with some definitions (purely mine) of information types:
Information: A collection of facts about a subject upon which someone can formulate a testable theory or postulate a conjecture.
Misinformation: Incorrect declarations that potentially lead one to false conclusions.
Disinformation: Knowingly false declarations for the purposes of misleading another group (e.g., counter-espionage, propaganda).
I suggest, however, that we need another category to address the shade of grey between the positives of information and the negatives of mis- and disinformation.
Following the model of nutrition versus starvation, I propose we call this new category malinformation, with the following definition:
Malinformation: A collection of facts that, while true, is insufficient to formulate a definitive conclusion without the support of further facts.
Just as a malnourished person is not starving, but rather suffers the effects of an insufficient blend and quantity of nutrients to experience balanced health, a malinformed individual is not wrong per se, but rather suffers the effects of an insufficient blend and quantity of facts to experience balanced knowledge and understanding.
For example, people who change their eating habits because they read about a single study that showed a specific food extract reduced tumour size in mice. Or a clinician who has created a behavioural modification program to reduce addiction based on a thought exercise using largely unrelated studies.
Any of these decisions are based on legitimate data from legitimate studies, but often ignore (or simply don’t look for) alternative and/or possibly conflicting data from equally legitimate studies. Rather than analyze all available data before generating a theory, they find the malinformation that supports their beliefs and then stop; a little bit of data being taken to conclusions that simply are not supported.
Maybe they’re right. But more likely, it is much more complicated.
In conversation, I find the malinformed much more intractable than the ill-informed. With the latter, there is a chance you can correct the misinformation. With the former, however, the mere fact that the malinformation is correct seems to be sufficient cause for them to defend the castle they have built in the sky. When you “yes, but” them, all they tend to hear is the “yes”.
In fairness, all information is technically malinformation as we will never have access to the complete knowledge of the universe. We are always going to be forced to make decisions based on limited knowledge.
But where more knowledge is available, I think there is duty to examine and understand it before becoming intractable in our positions.
If there is a newspaper article about a new scientific discovery, efforts should be made to learn more about the limitations of the science that led to the discovery. How far can you realistically extrapolate from those few data points?
In biomedical research, that which occurs in a mouse is, at best, a clue to what might happen in a human. Nothing more.
It could lead to the next step in scientific inquiry—the actual purpose of science—or to a dead end.
Belief is nice, but unless that belief is well founded on broad and balanced information, it is limiting and might be dangerous.
(Or at least, as far as I know based on my understanding of the available information.)