The Human Side of Science: When Evidence Meets Humanity

A Public Health Scientist's Confession

Yesterday morning, I woke up with that familiar constellation of symptoms— mild sore throat, nagging cough, and a headache that felt like someone was tapping the inside of my skull with a tiny hammer. My first instinct? Two rapid antigen tests. Both negative. (Brief aside: wastewater surveillance is showing ‘medium’ SARS-CoV-2 activity with no trends, but there are some pockets of higher activity in certain parts of the country.)

Assuming I'd caught some run-of-the-mill viral respiratory illness, I went into my usual routine: made myself a second cup of coffee, grabbed some cottage cheese and a banana for breakfast, popped two Tylenol for the headache, and then... I reached for a zinc supplement.

Wait. What?

As a public health scientist, I know the evidence on zinc for common colds is mixed at best. Heck, I have actively advocated that the large majority of supplements are unnecessary unless recommended by a clinician for a diagnosed deficiency. The most recent research shows that while zinc might modestly reduce the duration of cold symptoms in adults (we're talking about 1-2 days shorter), the evidence is of low certainty and highly variable across studies. The latest 2024 Cochrane review concluded there's insufficient evidence to recommend zinc supplementation for cold prevention or treatment, though it may have some modest effect on symptom duration.

Yet there I was, shaking that zinc tablet into my palm like a mineral maraca, as if it was worth a shot.

If I shared this confession with some people, I might be labeled as being "woo." And they wouldn't be entirely wrong to raise an eyebrow. Supplements are typically unnecessary, unregulated, can be mislabeled, can interfere with other medications…the list of concerns goes on and on. We've all seen the supplement industry make wild claims based on flimsy evidence.

unbiasedscipod

A post shared by @unbiasedscipod

But here's the thing: when I feel that telltale tickle in the back of my throat, I often reach for zinc anyway. What gives?

When Even the Experts Do It

Last year, I had the brilliant Dr. Joe Schwarcz on the podcast. He's a chemist, a steward of evidence-based medicine, and someone who's spent decades separating sense from nonsense in health claims. His take on vitamin C is particularly illuminating; he traces how Linus Pauling, despite being a Nobel laureate and one of the world's leading chemists, promoted vitamin C for colds based purely on personal anecdote rather than evidence. Pauling's "eminence-based" rather than "evidence-based" recommendations sent supplement sales soaring in the 1970s.

But here's what struck me most about our conversation: even Dr. Schwarcz admitted that he occasionally reaches for vitamin C or zinc when he feels like he might be getting sick. As he puts it in his writing, when he feels a cold coming on, he sometimes takes "a gram an hour for four hours" of vitamin C, though he's quick to add: "take that with a grain of salt, because I have neither evidence nor eminence."

---

The Human Side of Science

So, what's the deal? How can we be scientists and sometimes do things that don't align 100% with the science?

I think the answer is simple: while I am a scientist, I am also a human.

I know that taking a zinc supplement once in a while likely won't harm me. I'm not taking it as a replacement for actual medical treatment. If a clinician diagnosed me with a bacterial infection, I would NEVER skip the antibiotics I was prescribed. But in the face of a mild viral illness where there's no specific treatment anyway, and where the potential benefit might be small but the risk is also minimal, I make a very human choice.

The fact that I'm terrified to hit publish on this piece is quite telling. It speaks to the pressure we feel as science communicators to be perfect, to never deviate from the evidence, to never admit our own contradictions.

But I've had fascinating private conversations that suggest I'm not alone. A friend who is a super smart scientist and science communicator once whispered to me about getting acupuncture and finding relief from it. In the same breath, she said, "placebo or not, it helped me." What struck me most wasn't what she shared, but how she shared it. We were alone, and yet we still whispered. The sharing felt like revealing a deep, dark secret. We weren't sure if we would be judged or discredited by each other. But when we both admitted to these very human choices, there was this palpable sense of relief.

I wonder if we should take these lessons to heart when we do science communication. I don't think we can or should dismiss people outright for making choices that exist in evidence gray areas. Sometimes there are cultural reasons, family traditions, or simply the very human need to feel some sense of agency when facing uncertainty that inform our decisions.

Not every single move we make will be purely science-based, and I'm not advocating for that. But I am advocating for some recognition that occasionally making these decisions—with full awareness, without replacing proven treatments, and with honest acknowledgment of the evidence limitations—doesn't necessarily make us bad scientists or irresponsible communicators.

My Doula Story

I had another conversation with a fellow scientist recently about my decision to have a doula during my first pregnancy back in 2016. Turns out, she had one, too. Now, there's actually solid evidence supporting doulas— they're incredible supports during the birthing process. Research consistently shows that continuous support from doulas is associated with shorter labors, fewer cesarean births, less use of pain medication, and higher satisfaction with the birth experience. A major Cochrane review found that women with continuous labor support were less likely to have cesarean births, less likely to use pain relief medications, and more likely to be satisfied with their birth experience. Some stats: they can reduce cesarean rates by up to 50%, shorten labor by 25%, reduce oxytocin use by 40%, and decrease epidural requests by 60%. For vulnerable populations, the benefits are even more pronounced, with doula-assisted mothers being four times less likely to have a low birth weight baby.

My particular doula was evidence-based… for the most part. She focused on breathing exercises, positioning, and other well-supported comfort measures. My birth plan was flexible; I went in totally open to the idea of getting an epidural if I wanted it (and assumed I would), and she had zero qualms about that choice. But then, as my delivery date approached, she brought up placenta encapsulation. The research on this practice? There's no scientific evidence of any clinical benefit, and no placental nutrients and hormones are retained in sufficient amounts after processing to be potentially helpful. In fact, the CDC has warned about potential infection risks from contaminated placenta capsules.

Ultimately, I ended up needing an emergency C-section due to an infection, so the whole birth plan became moot anyway. But that placenta conversation stuck with me, because there's a world of difference between my informed choice to take a $5 zinc supplement and a vulnerable new parent being convinced to spend hundreds (if not thousands) of dollars on placenta pills that promise to prevent postpartum depression. My zinc moment was a small, low-stakes deviation from perfect evidence. But when practitioners we trust recommend expensive, unproven treatments to people in vulnerable states? That's where the 'harmless human moment' becomes something much more concerning. And that’s why context and nuance matter.

---

It’s a Balancing Act

Can we be scientists and sometimes make choices that exist in the gray areas of evidence? I think so, as long as we're honest about what we're doing and why.

When I took that zinc supplement yesterday, I wasn't abandoning my scientific training. I was making an informed decision based on a cost-benefit analysis: minimal potential harm, possible (if uncertain) benefit, and the recognition that sometimes the act of doing something when we feel unwell serves a psychological purpose that has value in itself.

I'm writing this from a place of privilege. I have access to quality healthcare, I'm not taking supplements in lieu of prescribed medications or a balanced diet, and I understand the difference between evidence-based treatments and hopeful thinking. I can afford supplements and still eat nutritious foods. I recognize the often predatory nature of the wellness industry, where many people ARE convinced these things are magic bullets. They take them without understanding potential risks or lack of evidence. They use them as replacements for actual medical care. That is a different and concerning story entirely. I am not okay with that type of messaging— full stop.

But for occasional use, with full awareness of the limitations? That feels different to me.

The key is maintaining perspective. I'm not advocating for zinc as a cold cure. I'm not telling my friends to skip proven treatments. I'm not falling down rabbit holes of pseudoscience. I'm simply acknowledging that even those of us steeped in evidence sometimes make choices that reflect our humanity as much as our training.

Maybe that's not such a terrible thing. Maybe admitting our contradictions makes us more relatable, more human, and ultimately more effective at communicating science to a world full of people who are also beautifully, imperfectly human.

After all, if we can't acknowledge our own gray areas, how can we expect to meet people where they are in theirs?

By the way, I woke up feeling better today. Was it the zinc? Probably not… the evidence suggests it was most likely just my immune system doing its job. But in that small space between 'probably not' and 'definitely not,' sometimes we find room for very human choices.

Stay Curious,

Unbiased Science

Want to support our work? The best way is to subscribe to our Substack and share our content. While all our articles are always completely free to read, paid subscriptions help sustain our in-depth reporting on public health and science topics. Thank you for considering it!