The controversy reveals that we wrongly assume, with dangerous implications for public health, that women who get breast implants must be rich.
A Venezuelan woman sits next to the two PIP breast implants that she had removed. The yellow implant at left, made by Poly Implant Prothese, had broken. / AP
the past few months, the leak-prone breast
implants of French company Poly Implant Prothese has turned into an international furor. At issue
is the company's use of non-medical-grade silicone, which has an
increased risk of rupture. The gel inside the implant, once released,
can inflame the surrounding tissue. Though there's limited evidence for this, fears
persist about the irritation leading to an increased risk for
cancer. The scope of the potential impact is tremendous. As of last
week, the estimate cited by
the BBC was that "up to 400,000 women in 65 countries are believed to
have been given implants" from the company. PIP founder Jean-Claude Mas is now facing
charges of involuntary injury, while policy professionals, journalists,
and the public are asking how the implants could have made it past
safety inspectors to have reached so many women.
there were ever a time to move beyond our dangerously facile debate about
cosmetic surgery, it's now. European media have been hammering the point that it's time to take implant safety as seriously as
drug safety, and take cosmetic procedures as seriously as any other operations, which is what they
To answer the question of how the
implants could have made it to so many women, though, one has to ask how
and it is that so many women are getting breast implants at all. Paris-based plastic surgery and dermatologist
organization IMCAS recently released some new numbers that help explain. Cosmetic surgeries not only rose by 10.1 percent in 2011 but are expected to
rise by another 11.12 percent in 2012, despite the scare.
A significant portion of the debate touches on a longstanding theme of how people think about cosmetic surgery: who, if anyone, should help cover the costs for removing and replacing defective implants? Though insurance policies and national
governments have already declared themselves willing to foot the bill for the
faulty implants' removal, that doesn't come without caveats. The implicit moral question the responsible officials seem to be asking themselves is, Should governments compensate for losses in botched vanity
projects? And herein lies the need
for a more careful look at the phenomenon of plastic surgery.
France, the government will only pay for new implants if the originals
were for reconstructive surgery. Politicians in Germany have been urging
similar policies. Elizabeth Niejahr neatly summarized this thinking in Die Zeit as "one
shouldn't make cosmetic surgeries even more popular. ... Those who, out
of vanity, decide to undergo the knife, should be aware of the
consequences." SPD Carola Reimann, Niejahr pointed out, has also argued
that "It's about the beauty ideal and the pressure to conform."
These politicians have a point, namely about moral hazard. But behind these sentiments lies a deep confusion about plastic surgery that's worth
surfacing. The idea that implants are for "vanity" seems to imply selfishness and, with it, an exercise
of will. But the charge that implants are about a "pressure to conform" implies the opposite. Which is driving
the trend towards plastic surgery? A projected growth in surgeries,
despite the dire stories of the past year, begins to look like a
pathology not just in individual women and men, but in society itself;
if that's the case, how helpful is it to blame individuals for
succumbing to what appears to be a mass psychosis?
criticizing the French and potential German positions, makes an
important related point: many politicians are assuming that the women
paying for non-reconstructive implants must be rich, and are adjusting
their rhetoric accordingly. But a glance merely at "trash talk shows,"
Niejahr notes, suggests this is "a false picture." How? "There may be many
women who save for new breasts or with what little credit they have
choose a larger chest over a new car."
just an inaccurate image: the suggestion that women who get breast
implants must be rich is a dangerous misconception with real implications. The enormous black market in cosmetic surgery, as
well as the apparently flourishing cosmetic surgery tourism trade -- with
terrifying stories of incompetently executed, dangerous procedures -- should be
evidence enough, even without Niejahr's trashy TV.
This isn't to say that governments should pay
for implant replacements (though Niejahr does make that argument): it's
questionable fiscal policy to pay for implant replacements in the
current European economic climate, even before you get to the possible
moral hazard argument. But in the debate over the appropriate policy
position, European politicians do need to be careful about the
assumptions they convey in their rhetoric.
these few critics in the current Continental debate show, this may be the
perfect time to probe the dark undercurrents of plastic surgery trends.
Tighter regulations may reduce dangers within the European Union, but they don't
change the fact that these surgeries still carry risks -- and they're
definitely not going to help the women who head to Mexico. Double-D
millionaires aren't a public health problem -- but they are a disturbingly convenient fiction.
Hillary Clinton once tweeted that “every survivor of sexual assault deserves to be heard, believed, and supported.” What about Juanita Broaddrick?
If the ground beneath your feet feels cold, it’s because hell froze over the other day. It happened at 8:02 p.m. on Monday, when The New York Times published an op-ed called “I Believe Juanita.”
Written by Michelle Goldberg, it was a piece that, 20 years ago, likely would have inflamed the readership of the paper and scandalized its editors. Reviewing the credibility of Broaddrick’s claim, Goldberg wrote that “five witnesses said she confided in them about the assault right after it happened,” an important standard in reviewing the veracity of claims of past sex crimes.
But Goldberg’s was not a single snowflake of truth; rather it was part of an avalanche of honesty in the elite press, following a seemingly innocuous tweet by the MSNBC host Chris Hayes. “As gross and cynical and hypocritical as the right’s ‘what about Bill Clinton’ stuff is,” he wrote, “it’s also true that Democrats and the center left are overdue for a real reckoning with the allegations against him.”
A No. 1 bestseller by a respected physician argues that gluten and carbohydrates are at the root of Alzheimer's disease, anxiety, depression, and ADHD. What to make of the controversial theory?
“If you could make just three simple changes in your life to prevent, or even reverse, memory loss and other brain disorders, wouldn’t you?”
So asks Dr. David Perlmutter, in promotion of his PBS special Brain Change, coming soon to your regional affiliate. Three changes. Simple ones. Wouldn’t you?
The 90-minute special is a companion to Perlmutter’s blockbuster book on how gluten and carbs are destroying our brains. In November it became a New York Times number one bestseller. Since its September release, as Perlmutter told me, “It’s never not been on the bestseller list, frankly.”
“Is it still number one?” I asked. A pause over the phone as he checked. In modern interview style, we were both also on our computers.
The city of Melbourne assigned trees email addresses so citizens could report problems. Instead, people wrote thousands of love letters to their favorite trees.
"My dearest Ulmus," the message began.
“As I was leaving St. Mary’s College today I was struck, not by a branch, but by your radiant beauty. You must get these messages all the time. You’re such an attractive tree.”
This is an excerpt of a letter someone wrote to a green-leaf elm, one of thousands of messages in an ongoing correspondence between the people of Melbourne, Australia, and the city’s trees.
Officials assigned the trees ID numbers and email addresses in 2013 as part of a program designed to make it easier for citizens to report problems like dangerous branches. The “unintended but positive consequence,” as the chair of Melbourne’s Environment Portfolio, Councillor Arron Wood, put it to me in an email, was that people did more than just report issues. They also wrote directly to the trees, which have received thousands of messages—everything from banal greetings and questions about current events to love letters and existential dilemmas.
From Eve to Aristotle to Sarah Huckabee Sanders, a brief history of looking at half the population and assuming the worst
The picture was striking. The military airplane. The sleeping woman. The outstretched hands. The mischievous smile. The look what I’m getting away with impishness directed at the camera.
On Thursday, Leeann Tweeden, a radio host and former model, came forward with the accusation that Senator Al Franken, of Minnesota, had kissed her against her will during a 2006 USO trip to Kuwait, Iraq, and Afghanistan. In a story posted to the website of Los Angeles’s KABC station, Tweeden shared her experience with Franken. She also shared that photo. “I couldn’t believe it,” she wrote. “He groped me, without my consent, while I was asleep.”
I felt violated all over again. Embarrassed. Belittled. Humiliated.
How dare anyone grab my breasts like this and think it’s funny?
I told my husband everything that happened and showed him the picture.
I wanted to shout my story to the world with a megaphone to anyone who would listen, but even as angry as I was, I was worried about the potential backlash and damage going public might have on my career as a broadcaster.
But that was then, this is now. I’m no longer afraid.
How did Andrew Anglin go from being an antiracist vegan to the alt-right’s most vicious troll and propagandist—and how might he be stopped?
On December 16, 2016, Tanya Gersh answered her phone and heard gunshots. Startled, she hung up. Gersh, a real-estate agent who lives in Whitefish, Montana, assumed it was a prank call. But the phone rang again. More gunshots. Again, she hung up. Another call. This time, she heard a man’s voice: “This is how we can keep the Holocaust alive,” he said. “We can bury you without touching you.”
When Gersh put down the phone, her hands were shaking. She was one of only about 100 Jews in Whitefish and the surrounding Flathead Valley, and she knew there were white nationalists and “sovereign citizens” in the area. But Gersh had lived in Whitefish for more than 20 years, since just after college, and had always considered the scenic ski town an idyllic place. She didn’t even have a key to her house—she’d never felt the need to lock her door. Now that sense of security was about to be shattered.
While the leadership of both parties views sexual misconduct as a political problem to minimize, the Republican and Democratic bases could not be farther apart.
Earlier this week, New York magazine’s Jonathan Chait asked his fellow liberals to imagine that Roy Moore were a Democrat. “It’s easy to feel superior about this when opposition to grotesque treatment of teenage girls lines up neatly with your own party’s well-being,” he wrote. “If you’re a liberal, ask yourself what you would do if the circumstances were reversed.”
Thanks to Al Franken, we can now answer that question better. The details of each man’s offense differ: Moore is accused of pursuing teenager girls while he was in his 30s, and two women have accused him of sexually assaulting them when they were teenagers. Leeann Tweeden, a broadcaster for KABC in Los Angeles, said Franken kissed and groped her without her consent. Still, each party’s reaction is telling. Each is split, but in opposite ways.
Writing in The Atlantic this week, Kurt Andersen praises members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints or Mormons for their “sincere commitment to leading virtuous lives” while simultaneously snickering at their “extreme and strange” beliefs.
There is, of course, a long and rather ignoble tradition of simultaneously praising and mocking Mormons. In the throes of World War II, President Franklin Roosevelt sent off a friendly missive to Winston Churchill and his wife. Roosevelt noted his “very high opinion of the Mormons” while also taking the opportunity to poke fun at Mormon polygamy, which had officially ended in 1890.
The nation wants to eradicate all invasive mammal predators by 2050. Gene-editing technology could help—or it could trigger an ecological disaster of global proportions.
The first thing that hit me about Zealandia was the noise.
I was a 15-minute drive from the center of Wellington, New Zealand’s capital city, but instead of the honks of horns or the bustle of passersby, all I could hear was birdsong. It came in every flavor—resonant coos, high-pitched cheeps, and alien notes that seemed to come from otherworldly instruments.
Much of New Zealand, including national parks that supposedly epitomize the concept of wilderness, has been so denuded of birds that their melodies feel like a rare gift—a fleeting thing to make note of before it disappears. But Zealandia is a unique 225-hectare urban sanctuary into which many of the nation’s most critically endangered species have been relocated. There, they are thriving—and singing. There, their tunes are not a scarce treasure, but part of the world’s background hum. There, I realized how the nation must have sounded before it was invaded by mammals.
Want to become a florist in Louisiana? A home-entertainment installer in Connecticut? Or a barber anywhere? You’re going to need a license for that—and it’s going to cost you.
In most states, a person who desires to install home-entertainment systems for a living, or as a part-time gig for extra cash, faces relatively few barriers to entry. This is work teenagers routinely do for grandparents after they make a technology purchase. But in Connecticut, a home-entertainment installer is required to obtain a license from the state before serving customers. It costs applicants $185. To qualify, they must have a 12th-grade education, complete a test, and accumulate one year of apprenticeship experience in the field. A typical aspirant can expect the licensing process to delay them 575 days.
These figures are drawn from License to Work, a report released this week by the Institute for Justice, a public-interest law firm that has sued state governments on behalf of numerous small-business owners and members of the working class who’ve faced unduly onerous obstacles while trying to earn a living.
For years, Republican politicians have attacked the mainstream press. With Roy Moore’s Senate bid, they’re facing the consequences.
All news is “fake news”—at least if you’re a diehard Roy Moore supporter.
With sexual misconduct allegations continuing to mount against the Republican Senate candidate in Alabama, Moore has defied calls to drop out of the race by advancing an audacious conspiracy theory—that partisan fabulists in the mainstream media are working with his enemies in the political establishment to wage a nefarious smear campaign against him. Not long ago, such claims likely would have backfired. But in the Trump era, anti-press sentiment has reached a fever pitch on the right—something candidates like Moore are eagerly exploiting.
Moore has not directly denied many of the specific allegations. Instead, he has sought to cast himself as the victim of a witch hunt and sow just enough doubt in the stories to muddy the waters in voters’ minds.