My new book is out today. Here is the introduction. Hooray!

October 23rd, 2014 by Ben Goldacre in book, ITYFIABMCTT, onanism | 2 Comments »

whooo wil buuuuy my loverly neeeew boooook whooo wil buuuuy my loverly boooook My new book is out today: a collection of columns, journalism and essays, but also some of my more colourful government reports, academic papers, and more.

It looks lovely.

Here is the introduction.


……  Amazon …………………..

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……….  Waterstones  ……….

….. Kindle   ……………………..

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…….. Harper Collins  ………..


This is a collection of my most fun fights: but the fighting is just an excuse. There’s nothing complicated about science, and people can understand anything, if they’re sufficiently motivated. Coincidentally, people like fights. That’s why I’ve spent the last ten years lashing science to mockery: it’s the cleanest way I know to help people see the joy of statistics, and the fascinating ways that evidence can be distorted or ignored.

But these aren’t personal attacks, and I’m not an angry person. All too often, people hoping to make science accessible fall into the trap of triumphalism, presenting science as a canon, and a collection of true facts. In reality, science is about the squabble. Every fight you will read in this book, over the meaning of some data, is the story of the scientific process itself: you present your idea, you present your evidence, and we all take turns to try and pull them both apart. This process of close critical appraisal isn’t something we tolerate reluctantly, in science, with a grudge: far from it. Criticism and close examination of evidence is actively welcomed – it is the absolute core of the process – because ideas only exist to be pulled apart, and this is how we spiral in on the truth.

Away from the newspapers and science TV shows you can see that process, very clearly, in the institutions of science. The question-and-answer session at any academic conference, after someone presents their scientific research, is often a bloodbath: but nobody’s resentful, everyone expects it, and we all consent to it, as a kind of intellectual S&M activity. We know it’s good for our souls. If the idea survives, then great; if it needs more evidence, we decide what studies are needed next and do them. Then we all come back next year, tear the evidence apart again, and have another think. Real scientists know this. Only the fakers cry foul.

In short, this book has a manifesto: check the evidence and fight back against anyone who tries to stop you. Along the way, you will get a grounding in statistics, study design, evidence-based policy and much more, in bite-size chunks. Because while my last two books – Bad Science and Bad Pharma – were polemics with a shape, this is a racing collection of short pieces. As such, I hope it works as a kind of statistics toilet book, bringing satisfaction in short bursts, with a fight and an idea in each one.

So in the section of this book on surveys, we laugh at the stupidity of the nuclear power industry, some silly anti-abortionists and StoneWall (whom I actually adore). Or, if you prefer: we learn about the distortions of ‘participant bias’, misleading question design and a sticky problem involving a complex time-dependent variable. In the first piece of the book we cover some surprisingly unprofessional behaviour from a Baroness, Professor and previous Director of the Royal Institution. Or, if you prefer: we cover post-publication peer review and why the conventions of academic journals are helpful.

These pieces cover two decades of work. There are lots of Guardian columns, but also academic papers, a report for the UK education minister, my work in the Romney, Hythe and Dimchurch Railway Guidebook, the odd undergraduate essay and more. If I’m honest, it’s pretty soulful (for me, not you) looking back over two decades and seeing what has changed. I was in my twenties and barely out of medical school when I started writing a column in the Guardian. As time passed, the targets got bigger, my day job took me through postgraduate qualifications and grown-up battles, and I think I got better at pulling claims apart. There was also discipline from outside: writing about other people’s misdeeds, collecting ever greater numbers of increasingly powerful enemies – and all under British libel law – is like doing pop science with a gun to your head. So for that, thanks.

At the end I might tell you a little about how I work, why I do what I do, who made me, and how things have changed over the past two decades. For now, let’s just say I’m very grateful to all the many companies and people who, by their optimistically bad behaviour under fire, have given narrative colour to what might otherwise have been some very dry explanations of basic statistical principles.

What’s in this book

I’ve written 500,000 words in the last decade, so there is no rep- etition, and the corpses of folk like Gillian McKeith, the homeopaths and Big Pharma are left in my previous two books (although these characters fight on, like zombies, in the real world). My academic work on statins and Big Data is saved for a fun project that will be launching shortly. Lastly, most of my writing on randomised trials in education, policing and everywhere else is held back, as my book on this topic will come out in due course.

There is, however, some structure to this school reunion. In How SCIENCE WORKS we cover peer review, how research is unpicked and critiqued after publication, how we deal with contradictory research, the importance of methods and results being freely available, whether it matters who a researcher is, how cherry-picking harms science, and how myths are made when inconvenient results are ignored.

In BIOLOGISING we cover crass reductionism, including the peculiar beliefs that pain is only real when we scan see it on a brain scanner, that misery is best thought of as molecular, and that girls like pink ‘because they evolved to look for berries’. In STATISTICS we start with easy maths and accelerate painlessly to some fairly advanced notions. We cover why the odds of three siblings sharing a birthday is not 48,627,125 to 1, why spying on us all to spot the occasional terrorist is highly unlikely to work, how statistical tools for fraud helped catch Greece faking its national economic data, what you can tell from a change in abortion rates for Down’s syndrome, the many ways you can slice data to get the answer you want, the hazards of looking for spatial patterns on maps, and the most core statistical skill of all: how we can detect a true signal from everyday variation in background noise.

Then we go on to the glory of BIG DATA, the battles with government to get hold of it, the risks of sharing medical records with all and sundry, and the magical way that patterns emerge from the formless static of everyday life when you have huge numbers. In SURVEYS we learn the tricks of a sticky trade, and then we shift up a gear to cover EPIDEMIOLOGY, my day job, the science of spotting patterns in disease. Here we see how clever things called funnel plots can help to show whether one area’s healthcare really is any worse than another’s, whether an increase in antidepressant prescriptions really does mean more people are depressed (or even whether more people are taking antidepressants), and the core skill of all epidemiology: how to correct for ‘confounding variables’, or rather: how to make sure that apparent correlations in your data are real. In an overview of bicycle helmet research, we review every epidemiological error in the textbooks, and a grand claim about the benefits of screening for diseases helps show that doing something – even something small – can often be worse than doing nothing at all. We see why different study designs are needed to research common and rare diseases, and how frail memories can distort the findings, why we should never assume that laboratory tests are correlated with real patients’ suffering, and how simple blinded experiments can spot if a £70 wine magnetiser really does change the flavour.

In the section on BAD ACADEMIA, we see how whole fields have been undermined by the simple misuse of statistics. We find one simple statistical error made in half of all neuroscience papers, and, by using forensic methods, we can see that brain-imaging researchers must be up to no good, because collectively they are publishing far more positive findings than the overall numbers of participants in their research could possibly, plausibly, statistically, sustain. We see bad behaviour around journals retracting papers, and appallingly poor standards in animal research, alongside academic journals publishing wildly crass papers on how, for example, people with Down’s syndrome really are a bit like the Chinese.

new coverIn GOVERNMENT STATISTICS we see ludicrous over-claiming around public and private sector salaries (where commentators fail to compare like with like), Home Office figures on child abuse pulled almost from thin air, a government figure on the cost of piracy that assumes everyone in the country should be spending £9,700 each on DVDs and music every year, crime prevention numbers to support a national DNA database that simply do not add up, and a headline figure on local council overspending, from the Department for Communities and Local Government, whose derivation is so offensively stupid it almost defies belief. We also see there is no evidence that hosting events like the Olympics has any health benefit for the host nation.

EVIDENCE-BASED POLICY is a slightly different fish: is there really good evidence for the policies that governments choose? Here we see that the evidence supporting the redisorganisation of the NHS is weak and that the figures on poor performance in the NHS used to justify it are over a decade old, and when the minister tries to argue back, he digs a very deep hole. We see how a historic failure to run simple randomised trials on policy issues has left us ignorant on basic questions about what works, and then whizz through a few simple questions, showing how evidence can be checked for each one: is porn in sperm donor clinics a good idea, is organic food really better, is it wise for the Catholic Church to campaign against condoms, and are exams really getting easier? We see a thinktank report on maths, promoted by a TV maths professor, that gets its own maths catastrophically wrong, and a select committee misleading, and being misled. After all this carping, in a report for the Department For Education I set out how the teaching profession could have its own evidence-based practice revolution to mirror what we’ve seen in medicine (and review, along the way, how senior doctors as late as the 1970s fought back, to defend that favourite of the old and powerful: eminence-based medicine).

Recreational DRUGS are a magnet for bad policy, because ideology often conflicts with the evidence, so the temptation to distort the data is powerful. Here we see wildly inflated government figures for crop captures in Afghanistan (with a minister claiming that peasant farmers receive the entire street price from every £10 bag of heroin sold in London), and ask why death was quietly dropped from the government’s measures of drug-policy success, before an essay explaining why the UK prescribed heroin for heroin addicts from the 1920s onwards, why we stopped and why we should start again.

LIBEL is a subject close to my heart, having been through the process too many times. In this section, we see how the people who sue tend not to be very nice, and how their legal aggression can – to my great pleasure – backfire. This section also includes breast-enhancement cream, and the brief return of Gillian McKeith.

I’ve always railed against the idea that QUACKS are manipulators, with innocent victims for customers: one woman’s trip to intensive care presents an opportunity to see where the blame really lies, when quacks have their magical beliefs routinely reinforced by journalists and the government. More than that, we see how serious organisations – from universities to medicines regulators – can fail to uphold their own stated values when under political pressure or seduced by money. Then we have a brief interlude to look at three peculiarly enduring themes in modern culture: MAGIC BOXES of secret electronic components with supernatural powers (to detect bombs, cure cigarette addiction and even find murdered children), AIDS denialism (at the Spectator, of all places), and, in ELECTROSENSITIVITY, people eager to claim that electrical fields make you unwell (while selling you expensive equipment to protect yourself, and seducing jour-nalists from broadsheets to the BBC’s Panorama).

If science is about the quest for truth, then equally important is the science of IRRATIONALITY – how and why our hunches get things wrong – because that’s the reason we need fair experiments and careful statistics in the first place. Here we see how our intuitions about whether a treatment works can be affected by the way the numbers are presented, how our outrage is lower when a criminal has more victims, why blind auditions can help combat sexism in orchestras, how people can turn their back on all of science when some evidence challenges just one of their prejudices, how people win more in a simple game when they’re told they’ve got a lucky ball, how responding to a smear can reinforce it, how smokers are misled by cigarette packaging, how people can convince themselves that patients in comas are communicating, and how negative beliefs can make people experience horrible side effects, even when they’re only taking sugar pills with no medicine in them. In this section I also unwisely disclose my own positive and creative visualisation ritual, and the evidence behind it.

In BAD JOURNALISM we see the many different ways that journalists can distort scientific findings: misrepresenting an MSc student’s dissertation project with a headline that claims scientists are blaming women for their own rape, creating vaccine scares, and saying that exercise makes you fat. We also see the techniques journalists use to mislead, by burying the caveats and failing to link to primary sources, then we review research showing that academic press releases are often to blame, and that crass reporting on suicide can create copy-cat behaviour. The work in this section has made me extremely unpopular with whole chunks of the media, but I truly don’t think there’s anything personal here: the pieces are simply straight explanations, illustrating how evidence has been misrepresented by professional people with huge public influence. In light of that, I’ve included some attacks on me by others, and you can make what you will of their backlash. Lastly, we see how hit TV science series BRAINIAC – which sells itself on doing truly dangerous, really ‘real’ science – simply fakes explosions with cheap stage effects.

In the final furlong, there’s a collection of STUFF: my affectionate introduction in the guidebook of a miniature steam railway that takes you through council estates to the foot of a nuclear power station, and a guide to stalking your girlfriend through her mobile phone (with permission). Lastly there are some EARLY SNARKS. Reading your own work from ten years ago is a bit like being tied down, with your eyelids glued open, and forced to watch ten-foot videos of yourself saying stupid things with bad hair. But in case you miss the child I once was, here I take pops at cosmetics companies selling ‘trionated particles’, do the maths on oxygenated water that would drown you before it did any good, and cry at finding New Scientist being taken in by some obviously fake artificial intelligence software.

So welcome, again, to my epidemiology and statistics toilet book. By the simple act of keeping this book next to the loo you will – I can guarantee it – develop a clear understanding of almost all the key issues in statistics and study design. Your knowledge will outdo that of many working scientists and doctors, trapped in the silo of their specialist subjects. You will be funny at parties and useful at work, and the trionated ink molecules embedded in every page will make you youthful, beautiful and politically astute.

I hope these small packages bring you satisfaction.

Ben Goldacre, London, August 2014

Links below:

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….. Kindle   ……………………..

……….   Local  ………………….

…….. Harper Collins  ………..

Weirdly long and fun Absolute FM radio interview

October 20th, 2014 by Ben Goldacre in bad science | No Comments »

whooo wil buuuuy my loverly neeeew boooook whooo wil buuuuy my loverly boooook Taking epidemiology to the streets: here’s a long, long interview I did last week on Absolute FM (lovely Geoff Lloyd’s lovely Hometime Show).

Posting here because it’s unusually good and long for pop media. In between the rock classics, we talk about screening, Ebola, government statistics, and good quality sperm.

My lovely new book – I Think You’ll Find It’s A Bit More Complicated Than That – is out in two days. It’s a collection of short pieces, an epidemiology and research methods toilet book, if you will. More here and here. You should buy it for everyone you know, to make your squabbles more interesting.

Podcast link here.

I totally just touched my new book: Collected Journalism, out next week!

October 17th, 2014 by Ben Goldacre in book, onanism | No Comments »

new coverExcitement.

My new book is out next week.

It’s a collection of journalism, essays, academic papers, government reports (woo!) and other stuff.

It’s called “I think you’ll find it’s a bit more complicated than that”.

A copy just arrived and it is a beautiful, big, thing.

The content is all completely different to Bad Science and Bad Pharma, with much more focus on bad behaviour by politicians, journalists, and scientists themselves: some golden gassers from yesteryear, some recent stuff, the odd government report, Susan Greenfield, embarrassing juvenilia, that kind of thing. It’s a fun christmas compendium, an epidemiology and research methods toilet book, if you will. I’ll post the intro and other bits to the blog next week, setting out the shape.




Pre-orders links below:

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….. Kindle   ……………………..

……….   Local  ………………….

…….. Harper Collins  ………..


Longstanding readers might remember “I think you’ll find it’s a bit more complicated than that” was a Bad Science t-shirt about 800 million years ago. I’ve just had a look, and these are somehow still available, through an endearing Web 1.0 interface. Their true power is unleashed when you sidle over and stand next to other people wearing slogan t-shirts, for covert photos. “Drop beats not bombs”. “I need a hug”. That kind of thing. This joke took time to grow old. Your mileage may vary.

Here is a picture of someone wearing one on the pages of the Daily Mail, in an article about the evils of Atheist Summer Camp. This is almost as good as when the “MMR is safe, tell your friends” baby bib went on display in the Science Museum.




Teaching science with bad science: resources for teachers

July 24th, 2014 by Ben Goldacre in teaching resources | 7 Comments »

People often wring their hands over how to make science “relevant” to the public, or to young people. For me, this is an open goal: we are constantly barraged with health claims in popular culture, and evidence based medicine is the science of how we know what does good, and what does harm. Every popular claim is an opportunity to learn about the relative merits and downsides of randomised trials, systematic reviews, cohort studies, laboratory work, and more.

I got together with Collins, the people who make the biggest selling GCSE textbooks, and we’ve made some resources for teachers who are interested in covering these kinds of things at school.   Read the rest of this entry »

What statins tell us about the mess in evidence based medicine

June 30th, 2014 by Ben Goldacre in evidence | 19 Comments »

Sorry to be absent, I’ve about a zillion big things shortly coming to fruition, at which point expect a deluge.

Everyone is having kittens about statins and the BMJ at the moment. Here’s what I wrote as a rabid response on the latest BMJ editorial about it, and a disco soundtrack to keep your attention focused: Read the rest of this entry »

Statins have no side effects? What our study really found, its fixable flaws, and why trials transparency matters (again).

March 13th, 2014 by Ben Goldacre in alltrials campaign, bad science, placebo | 20 Comments »

telesillyHi there, sorry to be absent (dayjob!). I was surprised to see a study I’m a co-author on getting some front page media play today, under the headline “Statins ‘have no side effects'”. That’s not what our paper found. But it was an interesting piece of work, with an odd result, looking at side effects in randomised trials of statins: specifically, and unusually, it compares the reports of side effects among people on statins in trials, against the reports of side effects from trial participants who were only getting a dummy placebo sugar pill.  Read the rest of this entry »

Blue Monday is churnalism. Again.

January 20th, 2014 by Ben Goldacre in blue monday, cash-for-"stories" | 1 Comment »

I have two problems with Blue Monday. One is that there isn’t really any good evidence for seasonal variation in mood:

The other is that serious mental health charities have been getting involved in using it, when they should be holding a line, advocating for patients based on good scientific evidence. Read the rest of this entry »

My BMJ editorial: we need routine audit of missing clinical trials

January 15th, 2014 by Ben Goldacre in alltrials campaign, publication bias, regulating research | No Comments »

I wrote this editorial in the British Medical Journal with the magnificent Carl Heneghan, director of the Centre for Evidence Based Medicine at Oxford. It’s about the Public Accounts Committee, progress on publication bias, and a suggestion for routine ongoing audit to give actionable information for decision-makers on how much information is missing. Read the rest of this entry »

I wrote this in the Guardian: denialism over clinical trial results being withheld

January 6th, 2014 by Ben Goldacre in bad science | 11 Comments »

I wrote this piece in the Guardian on clinical trial results being withheld, and the staggering denialism from diverse players including industry, the Royal Colleges, the MHRA, David Cameron, and more. This denialism has slowed progress on the issue, and cost lives. It’s my view, frankly, that people should be sacked – and presidents dismissed – over the appalling ESHLSG debacle, which gave false reassurance on vitally important matters of patient safety. The public, quite reasonably, expect better of medical leaders, especially when technical matters are entrusted to their care. Perhaps I’m wrong. In any case: the tide has turned, the public are watching, the professions are finally fully on side. We must celebrate that and move forward: now is the time to act. Here is a link to my piece, and here is the final two paragraphs.

Read the rest of this entry »

Public Accounts Committee issues damning report on clinical trial results being withheld

January 3rd, 2014 by Ben Goldacre in alltrials campaign, badpharma | 1 Comment »

Screenshot 2014-01-03 21.55.17MPs on the UK parliament’s Public Accounts Committee today issued one of the most damning reports ever seen on the problem of clinical trial results being withheld. Their amazement at the extent of the problem is palpable. This is a fantastic result for the campaign that started with Iain Chalmers et al many years ago, grew with the publication of Bad Pharma, and is now transformed into a vast behemoth with widespread support at AllTrials. You can read the Committee’s report in full here, and see the video of the evidence session with me and Fi Godlee from the BMJ here. I should say, I’ve been hugely impressed by the MPs I’ve come into contact with on this issue.

There has been extensive media coverage so far, some of the best (the ones that go beyond the Committee’s press release…) can be found in: the Independent, the Telegraph, the BBC, PharmaTimes and the Times (regarding that last article, I wonder if Bina Rawal of the ABPI will come to regret claiming that Richard Bacon, the deputy chair of the highly influential Public Accounts Committee, has been misleading people: the current regime at the ABPI do seem rather clumsy, more on their activities to come). Next, here is an article by David Tovey, head of Cochrane, one from Ginny Barbour, the big medical cheese at PLOS, and here is the BMJ news piece. Here’s a comment piece by Matt Ridley in the Times (caution: contains climate lols), and here’s a comment piece from me in The Guardian. There’ll be an editorial in the BMJ shortly.

There’s also extensive commentary in our press release at Here’s my bit from that press release: Read the rest of this entry »