The End of America as We Know It

This was not a  post I wanted to write.

 

(Picture from here.)

 

The post World War II United States—and to a large extent the world—was built on science. 

 

Not just science, mind you. The US was the Big Boss after the war as the only powerful country that wasn’t in one way or another gutted by the war. England was bombed flat. Fance, Germany, Russia, Poland—everyone had to rebuild a country after all that devastation. 

 

We didn’t.

 

It was pretty clear after the war that science and engineering had helped win it. Engineers build things after scientists discover the underlying principles and formalize them. 

 

The importance of medical research goes all the way back to 1887 with the nascent National Institutes of Health. long pre-dating the war. Truman created the National Science Foundation in 1950 and all through the fifties and sixties, its budget grew. 

 

My point is that there are political forces that recognize the need for both medical (NIH) and non-medical (NSF) research. It’s not the only source of scientific research—there are private grant systems and industrial funding. But more than half of American research funding went through NIH or NSF. 

 

Another interesting thing about the NSF and NIH is they weren’t run by political appointees. Grants were reviewed by fellow scientists, not an administration. Not to say that the political environment didn’t have an effect—remember the War on Cancer? But the grant funding was selected by scientists.

 

Similarly, there were advisory councils created during the fifties that cycled scientists into executive administrations. This happened in defense. In the FDA. Anywhere that a given administration wanted to understand the science of a given field. I’ve met people on some of those councils and they have said that they were not given a political agenda to follow. Sometimes they were listened to. Sometimes not. Often for political reasons but the scientists were not required adhere to those reasons.

 

That said, there are also political and cultural forces that don’t like science and don’t like scientists.

 

I’ve never understood this. 

 

Maybe it’s because science is an attempt to discover how nature actually works rather than how we might think it should work. Politics doesn’t seem to work that way.

 

(Side note: I tried to study to be a scientist but realized part way through the process that I do not have the patience. Instead, I went into engineering where the principles are better known and the reward for effort quicker. If I help on a rocket project, that rocket is going to go somewhere and do something. (Or it gets cancelled. Been there, too.) I’ve known scientists working on projects that take a week to set up, another week to run, and a third week to get a result. Three weeks to find out if an incremental part of what you’re doing even worked and with the possibility of a misstep at any point along the way derailing the entire effort. 

 

But I admire them. )

 

Science, then, follows murky paths that may or may not end up being useful. 

 

Take the GLP-1 drugs, for instance. These peptide mimic a hormone system that regulates appetite and insulin action. They were looked at for medical use for years but were frustratingly difficult to work with since they were metabolized almost immediately in the body.

 

Enter the Gila Monster.

 

In the 1980s, it was shown that the venom of different reptiles (notably the Gila Monster) caused enlargement of the pancreas. Later, in the 1990s, John Eng found that article and through that might be interesting. He was doing research in diabetes and found the Gila interesting because it could go for long periods without eating and still maintain a constant blood sugar. He analyzed the venom and discovered a compound that resembled GLP-1 but did not degrade. From this, the GLP-1 drug family derived. 

 

CRISPR is a technique for the precise editing of genes. It’s been incredibly useful in the last twenty years. The CRISPR/Cas9 system was discovered in bacteria as an immune system targeting bacteriophages. No one knew when CRISPR was discovered whether it could be turned into a biological tool. That came after the discovery was made and published.

 

My point here is that you don’t know what research is important until it is. This was the basis of the funding model of NIH and NSF: use a broad brush for basic research. Deny crazy research? Maybe—as long s the definition of “crazy” was clear. Was investigating the properties of Gila Monster venom crazy? Not as it turned out.

 

So, in my opinion, funding mechanisms like the NSF and NIH should be getting lot more funding over time and not less.

 

That, unfortunately, is not the case. NSF and NIH funding for years has been essentially flat. Given inflation, that really means the funding has effectively been cut. Scientists have been oddly mistrusted by politicians such as Nixon and Reagan. (A good history is here, but Scientific American has a paywall. Sorry.)

 

And now the Orange Voldemort. 

 

The most recent budget submitted by the administration to Congress included a 12% cut to NIH and a 54% cut to NSF. Since the start of this administration’s term, many billions have been cut or clawed back. These were awards that had already been given. This included cancer research, social research, immunology research, and many other areas.

 

No scientific area is safe. 

 

If you look at medical history, the first big success story is public hygiene and public health. The second is vaccines. After these two come everything else. 

 

Vaccines seem to be a curious target for this administration. This doesn’t much surprise me since vaccines have been targets for close to the three hundred years since they were discovered. It does surprise me that both the president of the country and the head of the Department of Health and Human Services—both established institutions dedicated to the welfare of the American people—are so hard over to destroy one of the major mechanisms that successfully keep Americans safe. 

 

He’s gone after the measles vaccine. That’s been a rousing success—for measles.

 

Further, RFK is especially down on mRNA vaccines. To the point that his Department has suppressed studies that show their effectiveness. Nor will he publicly back his own proposed CDC head when she is in favor of vaccines. Moderna has developed an mRNA based flu vaccine and wants to get FDA review. They’re having trouble. The hidden success story is that the mRNA technology has been successful in vaccinating against cancer. It’s likely that will be denied to the American public. But Europe will get it.

 

Oh, and those scientific advisory panels I mentioned before? RFK has fired a quarter of them.

 

Then, the OV signed a new executive order to model the US approach to vaccines after Denmark—a country that has a much more homogenous population, is significantly smaller, and—surprise!—has universal health care. He has—again surprise!—not suggested the US have universal health care. I’m sure Denmark’s guidelines are fine for Denmark. They seem a rational country. Our vaccine guidelines used to be geared to the needs of the American people. Now, not so much.

 

Also, apparently the OV thinks RFK should be more hard over against vaccines. And he should prove a non-existent connection between vaccines and autism. Good luck with that.

 

Of course, RFK is a multifaceted problem. He’s also going after antidepressants and mammograms.

 

Essentially, the OV administration is in the process of destroying medical research. 

 

But don’t think it’s just RFK. RFK is the OV’s sock puppet. Have you noticed how he is so supportive of gas stoves? A group was commissioned to determine the effect of gas stoves on asthma. To do this, they planed to take a population of asthma sufferers that had gas stoves in their home and replace them, measuring the nature of their symptoms before and after. They were part way through the study when the OV pulled the plug on their funding. But these researchers didn’t go down without a fight: they published the results they had. You know? Gas stoves are bad for asthma sufferers. 

 

I pretty much thought that these were the sorts of things the OV would attempt—even if I hadn’t, pulling out of the World Health Organization was a pretty big clue. I had hoped that the institutions would prevent him. I did not expect the complete roll over of both Congress and the Supreme Court. 

 

This isn’t a single administration problem. The OV is trying to change how science is funded. How civil servants are hired. How agencies function. He is trying to set his vision of America—run by and for the rich with charity toward none and avarice as its guiding principle—in stone. Scientists are voting with their feet. 

 

This could be the OV’s greatest gift to science—to China.

State of the Farm, July 2026

Well, it’s that time of the year where we look at the garden and decide what worked and what didn’t.

 

First, let’s talk about the compost we used as a levelling agent. Recall that back in May we terraced the farm using compost. In June, we planted and I had some misgivings regarding the compost. Now, it’s mid-season and there are some issues.

 

The compost came from plant material that was ground up, sifted, and left to rot while being regularly aerated. After a time, the result was declared compost and we bought it. 20 yards of it.

 

The material is heavy is nitrogen, very rich, and fairly easy for roots to penetrate. It is also nearly black—so it gets hot. When it dries it forms a water repellent crust. Water tends to rest on the surface. I’ve had good luck with water penetration by disturbing the surface when I water. This has meant that I need to water often—especially in the heat we’ve had this summer. Any plant with strong roots such as tomatoes, squash, or corn, doesn’t have any particular problem. Their activity is sufficient to keep the surface broken up.

 

However, plants with weaker roots such as carrots, young beans, some melons, or cucumbers seem to have more of an issue. 

 

Ah, beans. Did I tell you about the beans?

 

A few years ago we clad the lower fence with chicken wire to prevent bunnies from entering. Voles and mice just consider it a fancy door. Chipmunks get in easily as well. They like beans.

 

Back in the day when we had Nadine, a small seven-pound hunting horror, the rodents, rabbits, and some foxes were terrorized out of the yard. She was backed up by Gus, a twenty-seven-pound menace. I would bet on Gus against a coyote. But after they passed and we lost a couple of cats to mysterious circumstances, we kept the cats in. The rodents took notice.

 

The most recent thing I’ve tried is pepper spray on the crops they liked. We’ll see how that works.

 

We also had a problem with germination from both the carrots and the beans. Since the only common denominator is I planted them and the soil, it’s got to be the soil, right? Well, maybe. The dark soil does get hot and there’s this problem with the waterproof shell. Beans were subject to something curious. When I planted them and watered them in, the soil seemed to push them back out. As an experiment, I planted pole beans in a set of peat pots. Sure enough, several beans were pushed out of the soil. 

 

I think the compost absorbs water and swells. If the “hole” is just pressed in, I think the swelling causes the planted bean to be expelled. I planted the peat pots that germinated back in the garden and they did really well right until the moment the voles got them. 

 

Curiously, the voles didn’t attack the peas. Secretly, I planted beans next to the peas and they beans grew up next to them. No vole damage. The beans that were without pea protection seemed to get eaten. 

 

Hmmm.

 

A few days ago, I harvested the peas and sprayed the now-exposed beans with pepper. We will see.

 

The tomatoes, celery, and surviving melons appear to be doing well. Tomatoes and melons have flowered. The sugar beets and daikon radishes are flourishing, along with a couple of types of greens. 

 

Carrots have been a real problem. Whole sections just didn’t sprout. I replanted with Malbec Red: nothing. I replanted that with Kyoto Red but this time we had some leftover loam from another project and I top dressed the soil and planted there. We will see. 

 

We planted four types of kitchen radish. All four seeds germinated but only two, sora and French breakfast, bulbed out. I harvested but left a couple of strips of sora and French breakfast to bolt and generate seed. Another experiment for next year. 

 

We now have a vacant strip where the unproductive radish were. I haven’t decided what to put there. I might wait a few weeks and then plant a cold crop like broccoli or Brussel sprouts. I like Brussel sprouts and damn George H. W. Bush.

 

The squash and corn are going nuts. We planted five varieties of squash and Bloody Butcher corn. We did plant beans in the Three Sisters method but, well, voles. Much zucchini. 

 

Outside of the main garden, we have volunteer squash in the East plots growing among the potatoes. The potatoes are—well, were—doing well. The potato bugs have been eating them. But they are getting to the point of harvest, anyway. I don’t like to spray if I don’t have to. The nearby asparagus bed gave us many spears this spring. We had peaches but... rodents. 

 

We do have a lot of upcoming apples, pears, and quinces. I could do with many more quinces.

 

We’re getting good blueberries now. We have three installations: a high bush in the southeast corner of the main garden and a low bush on the southwest corner. The southwest is pretty much done now but we got a pound or three. The high bush is ready right now so we have to pick.

 

We built a blueberry house a few years ago and then Wendy rebuilt it this summer. It’s a little too late—we’ve lost a fair amount—but there are still blueberries to be picked. 

 

The raised beds are all doing well. We got a lot of strawberries. Next year, we’re either going to move the bed again or plant a new one. Melons, basil, peppers, and sweet potato are all doing well. We had a volunteer tomato last year that we really liked and we saved the seeds. This year it’s doing very well. 

 

A garden is always a gamble. This year we gambled and lost on the beans and peaches. We won on blueberries and tomatoes. 

 

I’ll take it.

 

Consideration of Works Past: The Green Rain

I have several topics I want to write about but right now I’m under serious deadlines. So, here’s another Consideration to be considered.

 

(Picture from here.)

 

The Green Rain was published by Paul Tabori back in 1961. It's a short book-- barely 70,000 words, if that. It's premise is simple: there's a mistake with a chemical missile and something goes wrong. The chemical seeds the clouds. It rains and the result is that everyone caught in the rain turns green. General hilarity ensues.

Well, only if you count political destruction, death, and riot as hilarity. Perhaps I have a skewed sense of humor.

There were a lot of odd books written in the sixties and seventies, many of them better known. The Muller-Fokker Effect by John Sladek, for example. Adam M-1 by William C Anderson. Rally Round the Flag, Boys! by Max Shulman. Most of these works were fairly light even though they might be handling fairly dark material.

The Green Rain reads like a bitter, eloquent Ron Goulart at the height of his powers. It opens with a quote from one of the characters, a bitter old professor named Pelargus, who says "Something goes wrong. It always does." Then, it wanders over to a satyric biochemist who has created "chlorophylogen", a chemical precursor to chlorophyll. It has the property of generating plant like behavior upon contact with light. NASA (called the ISS in the book) decides to send a rocket to the moon to make it earth like. It fails in launch and returns to earth, seeding the rain with chlorophylogen. Something happens to the chemical in the return. It's no longer simple chlorophylogen, it turns human beings green.

You can't change the color of people's skin without dealing with race. Tabori does. You can't change skin color without political repercussions. Tabori gleefully traces the downfall of the cold war. You can't change skin color without religious overtones and you can't have a religion without con artists-- at least not in southern California. Tabori wanders over there, too.

It's a romp. Or, at least it is in the beginning.

Things go dark about half way through. It's not like Shulman or Anderson. There's no easy, happy ending. The bitter Pelargus may have the last laugh after all.

This is what fascinated me when I first read it long ago and it fascinates me still. Though the science is dated and the political world is different, there's a lot that still rings true in this book. There's a scene where a young actress discovers herself pure green and comes out screaming and then faints. When she wakes up her first words are "I'm going to sue for a million bucks!"

And we're off and running.

What's curious about this book, and some of the others mentioned, is how thoroughly vanished they are in popular culture. Certainly you can find them. All of the above books are mentioned in wikipedia and you can get used copies at Amazon. The internet never forgets anything.

The impact at the time of Shulman and Anderson was considerable. Tabori, less so, but he was well known. Almost none of these names are mentioned now.

It's what I call the Bret Harte phenomenon. If you've taken an American lit course, you've ran across the name. He was a contemporary of Mark Twain. However, now we venerate Mark Twain and Harte is barely remembered. Now, I'm not saying Harte was as good a writer as Twain-- he was not. But he was worth reading and popular for a time. You can make a similar statement about William Saroyan or my own favorite author, John Dos Passos. Both brilliant writers and rarely read these days outside of literature courses.

The Green Rain is a lovely little science fiction book that will make you think. Don't take my word for it. Go over to Amazon here and buy it. Read it.

We'll bring these guys back eventually.