I sometimes wonder if newspaper reporters and editors actually think about their use of language. I’m not talking about obscure grammar or punctuation rules, but larger issues like what words actually mean. Nowhere is this more evident than in newspaper articles that mention “risk of death” when reporting on health studies.
A good example is a two year old Seattle Times article titled, Getting in Shape Reduces Death Risk. The headline itself sets off a big warning bell in my brain. After all, it’s a given (Ray Kurzweil‘s predictions notwithstanding) that the risk of death is 100%. You are going to die. So I immediately look with suspicion upon any report that talks about reducing my risk of death. I give newspaper headlines the benefit of the doubt, though, because they have limited space and need to make a bold statement to attract eyeballs. But I expect the article to be more explicit.
A newspaper article that has such a bold statement in the headline should make it clear in the first paragraph exactly from what. That is, if the headline says, “Vitamin C Reduces Risk of Death,” then the first paragraph better say, “…from scurvy.” Otherwise I’m going to think that I’ll live forever if I take enough Vitamin C. Wouldn’t the snake oil nutritional supplement industry love that?
Not only does the Seattle Times article fail to point out from what in the first paragraph, it fails almost entirely to qualify the statement about reducing the “risk of death.” The risk being mitigated by being “in shape” is never explicitly identified. But there are plenty of statements implying that being “in shape” means that you’ll live forever. Here’s the first paragraph:
The more fit you are, the longer you’re likely to live, according to a large study of veterans that applies to black men as well as white men. The Veterans Affairs researchers found that the “highly fit” men in the study had half the risk of death as those who were the least fit. Being “very highly fit” cut the risk even more, by 70 percent.
[This is sounding good. If I’m ‘very highly fit,’ my risk of dying is 70% less.]
Third paragraph:
“A little bit of exercise goes a long way,” said Peter Kokkinos, lead author of the study. “Thirty minutes a day, five days a week of brisk walking is likely to reduce the risk of mortality by 50 percent if not more.”
[Oh, wow. I just have to take a walk every day and there’s a 50% chance that I’ll live forever?]
Halfway through the article, there is this paragraph:
A treadmill test was used to determine the fitness level of the veterans at facilities in Washington, D.C., and Palo Alto, Calif. The men _ who had an average age of 60 _ were then put into four categories ranging from “low fit” to “very highly fit.” Researchers followed up for an average of eight years to see who was still alive.
Aha! So the risk being mitigated is … what, exactly? That if you’re “in shape” at 60, you have a higher probability of living to 68 than if you’re not “in shape” at 60. What a let down. That’s the only paragraph in the entire article that even comes close to identifying what risk is mitigated by physical fitness.
The rest of the article is full of statements that, taken literally, are totally misleading.
The study also sets itself apart by looking at how exercise affects blacks, whose death rates are higher than whites.
The study showed that as fitness levels went up, the risk of death dropped for both blacks and whites.
The researchers themselves didn’t even know the cause of death of those who died. Nor did they know how physically active any of the participants were. All they knew is how well the person scored (“low fit”, “moderately fit”, “highly fit”, or “very highly fit”) on the treadmill test, and whether that person was still alive eight years later. In other words, it shows a correlation between fitness and lifespan. But hardly conclusive evidence.
Normally I’d call an article like this shoddy reporting and an indication of laziness on the part of the reporter and the editor. But with the “risk of death” silliness, I’m forced to conclude that the reporter and/or editor decided to sensationalize the report, forgetting entirely that words have meaning.