| Popis: |
It was a nice rock, as rocks go—a substantial chip of rose-colored quartz gleaming with flecks of crystal—but not the sort of stone that might grace a starlet's ring finger. Even so, curators at the American Museum of Natural History in New York had given it the kind of showroom treatment Tiffany's might lavish on its rarest diamond solitaire: a special exhibit case, dramatic spot lighting, and even a name designed to stir the imaginations of onlookers. The rock was a 350,000-year-old hand ax. The Spanish archaeologists who discovered it called it Excalibur. And they claimed it was the earliest known evidence of the dawn of the modern human mind. Found among the skeletal remains of 27 primitive men, women, and children, the ax might be the earliest known funeral offering, its discoverers contended. If so, it was 250,000 years older than any other evidence that such early human species honored their dead. As a reporter, I was in a bind. Discovery of the rock offered an opportunity—the potential news hook—for a fascinating story. But it posed a series of thorny questions that I had to resolve before I could, in good conscience, publish a story about the find. They are the questions that arise with every newsworthy scientific development. They center on the validity of the work, its importance to the general public, and whether independent scientists can vouch for it. There also are practical considerations. How much of a reporter's time is it worth? How quickly can the story be turned around? Is there enough material for a graphic? Can we get a photograph? How much space does it deserve? Does it have a chance of getting on page one? The claim being made by the Spanish archaeologists was certainly provocative and, no doubt, sincere. But how reliable was it? The study of human origins is a field defined by the paucity of evidence and conflicting scientific claims. As one distinguished paleo-anthropologist told me wryly, “The dividing line between reality and paleo-fantasy is very narrow.” Acting as a gatekeeper to sort the sense from scientific nonsense, a science writer ordinarily can spend almost as much time chasing down a misleading claim as publicizing valid work. |
