In
Europe, the Ordinary Takes a Frightening Turn
By
T.R. Reid
Washington Post Foreign Service
Thursday, March 1, 2001; Page A-1
LONDON -- A bowl of cornflakes can kill you -- not to mention a
ham sandwich or a T-bone steak. Getting vaccinated can kill you.
Flying economy class can kill you, and business class isn't much
better. The rubber duckie in your bathtub can kill you (and your
children). And put down that cell phone, before it kills you!
Such
is the woeful catalogue of warnings that confront Europeans these
days as the continent veers almost weekly from one health panic
to the next. From Belfast to Belgrade, wealthy, well-educated Europe
is regularly swept by frightening reports of new dangers said to
be inherent to contemporary life. The lack of scientific basis for
many of the worries doesn't stanch the flood.
Americans
have health concerns, too, but not on this scale. The year 2001
is barely eight weeks old and already public opinion and public
officials here have been rattled by alarms over risks -- proven
and not -- from genetically modified corn, hormone-fed beef and
pork, "mad cow" disease, a widely used measles vaccine, narrow airline
seats said to cause blood clots and cellular phones said to cause
brain damage.
"If
these stories were true, we should all be dead by now," quipped
Mart Saarma, a biologist at the Helsinki Institute of Biotechnology.
Saarma
attributes the "culture of fear" to carry-over from genuine health
problems, trends in environmentalism, anti-Americanism and a pessimistic
strain in the European psyche. "It is a matter of emotion here,"
he said. "Americans seem to be pragmatic about new ideas and inventions.
Europeans tend to worry. That leads to this concept of being always
on the safe side -- being against anything new until it is absolutely
proven."
It
seems strange that this aversion to the new should break out in
Europe, which gave the world the industrial revolution, quantum
physics and modern genetics. Europe is the home of the Nobel Prize,
the million-dollar award that celebrates scientific advances. Europeans
cloned Dolly the sheep. They invented Viagra.
The
continent remains a formidable force in global technology. The world's
fastest (the Concorde) and biggest (the forthcoming 550-seat Airbus
A380) commercial jetliners are European products. Finland's Nokia
and Sweden's Ericsson dominate global cellular phone markets, having
passed the U.S. leader, Motorola, two years ago.
And
yet a pervasive technophobia throbs like background music beneath
the rhythms of everyday life here, fueled by skeptical media, the
political success of environmentally minded Green parties and a
growing regulatory apparatus at European Union headquarters in Brussels.
The
fear stems in large part from Europe's experience with a genuine
health risk, bovine spongiform encephalopathy (BSE), commonly known
as "mad cow" disease. The epidemic began in Britain in the 1980s
and has recently been detected among beef cattle in France, Germany
and Italy. A variant of the disease is believed to have killed about
84 people over the past decade and has forced the slaughter of millions
of head of cattle.
In
the case of mad cow, Europe's staple entree is being potentially
contaminated by a poorly understood disease. Even worse, governments
hit by the crisis tended to insist at first that everything was
fine -- and then backtracked. Eventually, Europeans decided that
official assurances were close to worthless.
"There
is no question that BSE influenced people's trust in the whole public
safety regime," said Michael Meacher, Britain's environment minister.
"We live with this now when other perceived risks come along. People
are less willing to listen to experts who say, 'There's nothing
to worry about.' "
In
recent weeks, Britain has embarked on a campaign against another
animal ailment, foot-and-mouth disease, after it appeared among
a dozen pigs last week. Although humans seldom contract the disease,
15,000 animals have been killed or will be killed to prevent its
spread, British authorities said.
Fear
has spread to other foods and products, especially those that result
from new technologies. Most intense has been the reaction against
genetically modified crops, known here by the shorthand term GMO,
for genetically modified organism. Americans and Canadians consume
genetic hybrids of corn, soybeans and other foods every day. A National
Academy of Sciences study concluded that new varieties are no different
from traditional hybrids.
But
GMOs are restricted across Europe; the media treat the crops as
if they were lethal. Last spring, when it was reported that minute
quantities -- well below 1 percent -- of GMO seeds had inadvertently
been mixed into bags of Canadian seed sold to European farmers in
1998 and 1999, newspapers warned of "contamination" and "poisoning."
Frightened consumers returned boxes of cornflakes to grocery stores
demanding refunds.
This
month the European Parliament mandated a rigorous approval process
before any new genetic hybrid could be planted in European soil.
The sponsor of the plan proudly labeled it "the toughest in the
world."
Similar
scares surround pork and beef raised with growth hormones; rubber
duckies and other plastic toys made with softeners called phthalates;
and the MMR (measles, mumps and rubella) vaccine.
Cellular
phones are much more widely used in Europe than in the United States,
but they, too, often evoke a confused state of dread. A British
consumer group last year suggested that cell phone owners use earphones
to reduce the risk of brain damage from transmission signals. Just
as consumers were digesting that idea, another report concluded
that earphones might actually increase the risk. A British government
study last year found no link between cell phones and brain damage.
The
European media have been full of reports this year on the alleged
dangers of depleted uranium, a metal used in munitions during the
Persian Gulf War and in Kosovo. Several European governments have
launched high-profile emergency tests of the material. Many studies
in the United States have found it safe.
This
winter's major health scare in Britain has been "economy-class syndrome"
-- the fear that long hours spent in a cramped airplane seat will
lead to "deep vein thrombosis," causing blood clots to travel to
the lungs. There has been one confirmed death this year -- a young
woman flying from Sydney to London -- but newspapers have suggested
that the toll may reach 2,000 annually.
Why
is Europe so hung up on health problems? One theory ties the phenomenon
to the decline of religious faith. "Churchgoers now amount to less
than 15 percent of the population," said Philip Lader, the U.S.
ambassador to Britain, and this might prompt "a human need for some
other larger-than-life issues. Perhaps that has something to do
with the religious-like fervor of the opposition to [genetically
modified] foods."
Since
many of the technological breakthroughs that lead to phobias are
identified with big American or multinational companies, the negative
response may tie in with the aversion to globalization among the
working class and the anti-Americanism that is never far from the
surface among Europe's intelligentsia.
"One
of our big problems with GMO crops," said Des D'Souza of the European
seed company AgrEvo, "is that people think they all come from the
U.S., and right there you start to generate resentment."
Europe's
wariness of the new also reflects the feeling of anomie, of systemic
breakdown, that is central to much of modern European philosophy.
The German novelist Gunter Grass has written that the proper European
response to the "lusty appeals of progress" is melancholy. In contrast
to the "American conception of happiness embodied in the say-cheese
smile," Grass argues, the European is more comfortable with "knowledge
that engenders disgust."
Prime
Minister Tony Blair has cautioned Britons about a "loss of faith
in science," which he says is particularly problematic now because
Europe depends on technology to maintain its place in global markets.
Some health concerns may be "reasonable," Blair said last month,
"but it is possible to overdo that very greatly."
Finally,
there is a sense in Europe that genetic manipulation, wireless communication,
global transportation and other wonders of modernity hinder the
appreciation of more traditional aspects of human life. That view
is often set forth by one of the continent's most admired thinkers,
Pope John Paul II.
In
a recent sermon, the pope recalled the biblical admonition to "consider
the lilies of the field . . . they toil not, neither do they spin."
The contemporary lesson to draw from the lilies, he said, is, "In
the era of technology, our life risks becoming always more anonymous
and . . . man becomes incapable of enjoying the beauties of the
creator."
©
2001 The Washington Post Company
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