Clamantis in deserto

Actually the complete phrase is "vox clamantis in deserto," and it is the motto of my alma mater. We were told as freshmen that it translated as "a voice crying in the wilderness" – which prior to the Internet, cheap long distance rates, and Interstate 89 seemed to be an apt description of my situation. The words resurfaced in my consciousness a few months ago when I met one of the regular readers of this column. A man of my vintage, he observed that over the 40-plus years he had been in practice, parents had grown increasingly less interested in his views on health and child rearing. He asked if I had experienced the same phenomenon.

In other words, he wondered if we both had become just voices crying in the wilderness. As we discussed his observation in more depth, it became clear that he wasn’t talking about the age-old phenomenon in which young people begin to tune out their elders who have persisted in palavering the same old "when-I-was-your-age" bologna. No, his question was more general. Is anyone listening to what pediatricians of any age are saying? Are our opinions less valued than they were 40 years ago? If our audience is less attentive, then why?

I agree that it does feel like, over the last 40 years, parents are less influenced by our opinions and are using increasing amounts of salt when they do listen. One only needs to consider the issue of vaccine refusal to appreciate that our advice often goes unheeded with potentially dangerous consequences.

Is the muting of our voices simply an example of dilution? Fifty years ago, pediatricians didn’t have much competition for the ears of new parents. There were Ben Spock and the always to be reckoned with army of grandmothers. Yes, there were magazines for parents, but they paled in comparison to the profusion of websites, blogs, and chat rooms that offer advice of varying quality just a mouse click away. Now we share the stage with anyone who cares to venture an opinion on health or parenting. No wonder we have trouble having our voices heard over the cacophony.

But, the din from the media is only part of the problem. I’m not sure exactly why, but over the last several decades, science has lost its mojo. Some of it has to do with the ease with which junk science can find an audience. Some of it is fallout from an educational system that is trying to regain its legs. While a good physician is more of an artist than a scientist, we were all trained as scientists. And, the public sees us as scientists, and as such, we are vulnerable to being painted with the same broad brush strokes of the antiscience folks.

To some degree we have been guilty of diluting our own messages. The trend toward health maintenance visits that are scripted by committee has done little to encourage parents to ask the questions about which they are most concerned. If we return to a model in which the patient or the parent is in the driver’s seat, we may start hearing more questions and discover our answers are given more consideration.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics including "How to Say No to Your Toddler." E-mail him at [email protected].

Actually the complete phrase is "vox clamantis in deserto," and it is the motto of my alma mater. We were told as freshmen that it translated as "a voice crying in the wilderness" – which prior to the Internet, cheap long distance rates, and Interstate 89 seemed to be an apt description of my situation. The words resurfaced in my consciousness a few months ago when I met one of the regular readers of this column. A man of my vintage, he observed that over the 40-plus years he had been in practice, parents had grown increasingly less interested in his views on health and child rearing. He asked if I had experienced the same phenomenon.

In other words, he wondered if we both had become just voices crying in the wilderness. As we discussed his observation in more depth, it became clear that he wasn’t talking about the age-old phenomenon in which young people begin to tune out their elders who have persisted in palavering the same old "when-I-was-your-age" bologna. No, his question was more general. Is anyone listening to what pediatricians of any age are saying? Are our opinions less valued than they were 40 years ago? If our audience is less attentive, then why?

I agree that it does feel like, over the last 40 years, parents are less influenced by our opinions and are using increasing amounts of salt when they do listen. One only needs to consider the issue of vaccine refusal to appreciate that our advice often goes unheeded with potentially dangerous consequences.

Is the muting of our voices simply an example of dilution? Fifty years ago, pediatricians didn’t have much competition for the ears of new parents. There were Ben Spock and the always to be reckoned with army of grandmothers. Yes, there were magazines for parents, but they paled in comparison to the profusion of websites, blogs, and chat rooms that offer advice of varying quality just a mouse click away. Now we share the stage with anyone who cares to venture an opinion on health or parenting. No wonder we have trouble having our voices heard over the cacophony.

But, the din from the media is only part of the problem. I’m not sure exactly why, but over the last several decades, science has lost its mojo. Some of it has to do with the ease with which junk science can find an audience. Some of it is fallout from an educational system that is trying to regain its legs. While a good physician is more of an artist than a scientist, we were all trained as scientists. And, the public sees us as scientists, and as such, we are vulnerable to being painted with the same broad brush strokes of the antiscience folks.

To some degree we have been guilty of diluting our own messages. The trend toward health maintenance visits that are scripted by committee has done little to encourage parents to ask the questions about which they are most concerned. If we return to a model in which the patient or the parent is in the driver’s seat, we may start hearing more questions and discover our answers are given more consideration.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics including "How to Say No to Your Toddler." E-mail him at [email protected].

Actually the complete phrase is "vox clamantis in deserto," and it is the motto of my alma mater. We were told as freshmen that it translated as "a voice crying in the wilderness" – which prior to the Internet, cheap long distance rates, and Interstate 89 seemed to be an apt description of my situation. The words resurfaced in my consciousness a few months ago when I met one of the regular readers of this column. A man of my vintage, he observed that over the 40-plus years he had been in practice, parents had grown increasingly less interested in his views on health and child rearing. He asked if I had experienced the same phenomenon.

In other words, he wondered if we both had become just voices crying in the wilderness. As we discussed his observation in more depth, it became clear that he wasn’t talking about the age-old phenomenon in which young people begin to tune out their elders who have persisted in palavering the same old "when-I-was-your-age" bologna. No, his question was more general. Is anyone listening to what pediatricians of any age are saying? Are our opinions less valued than they were 40 years ago? If our audience is less attentive, then why?

I agree that it does feel like, over the last 40 years, parents are less influenced by our opinions and are using increasing amounts of salt when they do listen. One only needs to consider the issue of vaccine refusal to appreciate that our advice often goes unheeded with potentially dangerous consequences.

Is the muting of our voices simply an example of dilution? Fifty years ago, pediatricians didn’t have much competition for the ears of new parents. There were Ben Spock and the always to be reckoned with army of grandmothers. Yes, there were magazines for parents, but they paled in comparison to the profusion of websites, blogs, and chat rooms that offer advice of varying quality just a mouse click away. Now we share the stage with anyone who cares to venture an opinion on health or parenting. No wonder we have trouble having our voices heard over the cacophony.

But, the din from the media is only part of the problem. I’m not sure exactly why, but over the last several decades, science has lost its mojo. Some of it has to do with the ease with which junk science can find an audience. Some of it is fallout from an educational system that is trying to regain its legs. While a good physician is more of an artist than a scientist, we were all trained as scientists. And, the public sees us as scientists, and as such, we are vulnerable to being painted with the same broad brush strokes of the antiscience folks.

To some degree we have been guilty of diluting our own messages. The trend toward health maintenance visits that are scripted by committee has done little to encourage parents to ask the questions about which they are most concerned. If we return to a model in which the patient or the parent is in the driver’s seat, we may start hearing more questions and discover our answers are given more consideration.

Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics including "How to Say No to Your Toddler." E-mail him at [email protected].