Opinion
JENNIFER CALFAS
EDITOR IN CHIEF
AARICA MARSH
and DEREK WOLFE
EDITORIAL PAGE EDITORS
LEV FACHER
MANAGING EDITOR
420 Maynard St.
Ann Arbor, MI 48109
tothedaily@michigandaily.com
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Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s editorial board.
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The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Page 4A —Thursday, January 8
T
his past week, Gina Kolata
of The New York Times
reported on the develop-
ment of a new
paradigm
in
genetics research:
the pursuit and
identification
of
beneficial
muta-
tions.
Genet-
ics
constitutes
a major focus of
medical research
right now, and the
rise of “personal-
ized
medicine”
research has been
well documented
(as having positive and negative
effects). In personalized medicine,
researchers use DNA sequencing
technology to discover influential
mutations on human health. The
fundamental
undercurrent
here
is that much of human health is
endowed by our personal genetic
codes (read: imperfectly correlated).
These discoveries can then be fur-
ther explored in research, as well as
communicated to patients. 23andme
is the prominent manifestation of
personalized medicine in industry.
The Times piece profiles one
Doug Whitney, who has a mutation
that has been demonstrated in pre-
vious research studies to cause ear-
ly-onset Alzheimer’s disease. It’s a
deadly alteration that, taken in iso-
lation, has a bleak prognosis. How-
ever, Whitney has shown none of
the symptoms typically presented
by the disease at his age. In medi-
cine, we would call him an outlier.
In statistics, we would call him the
“tail” of the curve. In religious
circles, we might call him a mir-
acle. Kolata reports that medical
researchers have begun to seek out
these blips at the tail of the curves
in the effort to identify the core
genetic origin of their good fortune.
In other words, they are looking for
mutants of the good variety: living,
breathing, medical X-Men.
Real-life mutants have long been
an interest of comic junkies every-
where, and I was no exception as a
kid. I often imagined what it would
be like to have superpowers. Still
do. This is, though, perhaps less
dramatic and sexy than shooting
ice out of your hands, the realiza-
tion of this fantasy in an intriguing
way. So cool! And yet, as illustrated
in the darker subtext of X-Men – as
well as in comics like Watchmen —
the exposure of mutants in society
introduces a whole host of ethical
issues. In the comics, these issues
promote discrimination and social
segregation. Similar issues have
been demonstrated with the rise
of personalized medicine across
diverse
social
arenas,
ranging
from individual insurance costs to
marriage partner selection among
many others.
Accordingly,
privacy
rights
and protection is a focal point for
discussion when considering the
potential proliferation of person-
alized medicine. It seems that the
question of privacy will be the one
of our time, with the ubiquitous
spread of information in the Inter-
net dimension of our lives. As per-
sonalized medicine continues to
progress and advance, we will be
forced to think about these ethical
issues. One such question already
popping up is whether or not to
sequence the genomes of newborns:
one camp says this provides an
opportunity for prophylactic treat-
ment and active monitoring, while
the other worries that it introduces
a tremendous burden of stress by
providing a window into one’s fate.
Obviously, there is no single
answer with regards to balanc-
ing stress and knowledge. After
all, whether or not to eat from the
Tree of Knowledge has always been
the human question. A phenom-
enal, eloquent op-ed in the Times
from last September addresses
these questions, from the angle
of “guilty pleasures.” The balance
between “extension of life” and
“delay of death,” as it applies to the
ever-desired stretching of human
longevity, is also prominently dis-
cussed by Zeke Emanuel.
The only clear takeaway is
that these questions are intensely
individual, and that they aren’t
going away.
We will be forced to grapple
with these questions in the future
as patients and parents, citizens
and scholars. For now, though, we
ought to appreciate the profound
implications of such magnificent
advances in science. The “mutant”
fantasy is materializing, pros and
cons with it!
— Eli Cahan can be reached
at emcahan@umich.edu.
Mutants, beyond the fold
Edvinas Berzanskis, Claire Bryan, Regan Detwiler, Devin Eggert, David
Harris, Rachel John, Jordyn Kay, Aarica Marsh, Victoria Noble, Michael
Paul, Allison Raeck, Melissa Scholke, Michael Schramm,
Matthew Seligman, Mary Kate Winn, Jenny Wang, Derek Wolfe
EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS
Walk the (nature) walk
L
ast semester I took Bio 101. To the
untrained eye (and likely to the
trained eye) this class appears to be a
basic Intro to Biology class
for freshmen who have
their shit together enough
to know they are on the pre-
med track (these are the same students who
took Orgo first semester to “get it out of the
way”). But Bio 101 was actually cross-listed as
Environ 101 with the title “Food, Energy and
the Environment” and was billed as a science
class for non-science majors in LSA looking to
fulfill their natural science requirement.
Except it was so much more than that. I’ve
never taken a class before that spoke to me
so urgently. I’ve always loved nature, but I’ve
never before felt the call to action, the need to
make a change and really do something to pro-
tect this amazing, intricately beautiful planet.
Some people have godly moments in church
or a synagogue or a mosque or some other reli-
gious location, where they feel connected with
god and the world and for one brief moment can
see everything in life clearly and in perspec-
tive. For me, every moment I’ve had like that
has come in nature. There’s something about
standing waist deep in an ocean surrounded
by mountains, or lying on the forest floor dur-
ing an epic storm that makes a person feel their
place in the universe. And even though nature
can make you feel small, it also makes you feel
deeply connected to the world surrounding
you. Other than the fact that Earth is the only
known planet to sustain life, that is why it is
important to protect nature.
There’s a type of quiet, simple peace that
can be found outside. My sister, Natalie,
explained to me why everyone feels so at
peace in nature — it’s because we are a part of
nature. We are a part of the wondrous cycles
of life that cause trees to grow every sum-
mer, cause leaves to change colors and cause
plants to use nitrogen in the ground to grow
and take in carbon from the atmosphere.
After all, we breathe out carbon, and trees
and other plants breathe it in and breathe out
oxygen. We are naturally a part of the same
cycle. We are in an interdependent relation-
ship with the rest of nature. But somewhere
along the line, we forgot our role in this cycle.
Prof. John Vandermeer, the professor of
my Bio/Enviro 101 class, would probably say
this change began with the start of agricul-
ture, but really took hold after World War I,
when instead of being in a partnership with
nature (where farmers were the doctors and
crops and nature were the patients), the agri-
cultural ideology switched to a militaristic
one, where farmers had to conquer and take
advantage of and pillage their farms. This
was a drastic misstep.
Bio 101 really awoke me to the issues that
are occurring within the current agricul-
ture and food systems, and made me want to
do something about it. But when the issues
seem so insurmountable and simultaneously
important to address as soon as possible, it’s
difficult to decide what to do. Because I really
do want to do something, even the smallest
thing, to help the Earth. There are a million
things wrong with the world, but none of
those problems can be solved if we don’t have
a planet to live on.
There’s just something about being in
nature. I want my children (and if I don’t have
children, then just future generations) to have
the opportunity to go out and experience the
wilderness, to see mountains and forests and
rock formations and rivers and waterfalls
and lakes and oceans. Because seeing these
natural wonders and climbing and hiking
through them not only makes you apprecia-
tive and deeply protective of this world, but
it reveals and heals parts of yourself that you
may not have even known were there or in
need of healing. Nature puts everything into
perspective and is a kind of deep, personal
therapy. We cannot exist without it.
In class, Professor Vandermeer and my GSI
Jonno said to get involved by doing something
you love. We watched a video where a cartoon
baker got involved in helping with climate
change by providing food for volunteers and
having bake sales to raise money and aware-
ness. I do not know much about what I want
out of life, but I know that I love nature, and
that I love to write. So I thought that if I write
about nature, and about my struggles to live a
sustainable life while simultaneously being a
college freshman in a sorority, maybe I could
inspire other people (and myself) to live in a
way that is sustainable.
Because for me at least, it’s easy to say I
want to live a sustainable life and help save
the planet, while simultaneously not recy-
cling, eating food produced by big businesses,
and not supporting local, sustainable food.
This semester I’m going to try to actually
be sustainable (walk the walk, so to speak),
and I hope this column will not only keep
me accountable (because on my own I have
an embarrassingly low amount of willpower),
but also inspire other environment-lovers (I
know you’re out there), and even people who
think recycling is just a hipster fad, to try to
live in a way that could help save the world.
— Eliana Herman can be reached
at erherman@umich.edu.
A newer resolution
E
very January brings its predictable
wave of diet commercials for intrepid
resolutioners. A woman stands inside
of one leg of her “before”
jeans, holding the waistband
out with one arm to show
off the other pant leg like
a massive denim sail. It’s all thanks to frozen
dinners! If they can do it, so can you!
I find it exhaustingly annoying.
It’s not even the gimmicky aspect of it,
that transparent attempt to use inspirational
weight-loss stories to sell unnecessary diet
products. It’s that the success of the multi-bil-
lion dollar diet industry is built upon accepting
the theory that a slimmer waistline is tanta-
mount to a better life. The theory is that losing
weight will lead to improved beauty and health,
which are two intangible things that are almost
universally desired. (Who doesn’t want to be
healthier and more attractive?) The problem is
that the theory is held as a certain truth, when
it’s actually a shared public delusion.
Every year, the commercials serve as a
reminder of the American values of health and
beauty, and I can’t help but feel that a lot of
people’s needs are left behind by these values. I
feel a lot more than annoyance when I see that
woman standing in one pant leg. I feel panicky.
I feel that knot in my stomach as I remember
two of my friends from high school and the eat-
ing disorders they battled. I hope for an irra-
tional moment that my friends won’t see any of
the ads this year. But the diet commercials are
everywhere: unavoidable, ubiquitous. I know
they’ll see the ads, and I have to know that
they’ll be able to manage their own mental ill-
nesses despite the constant barrage of images
depicting dieting as the cure to unhappiness.
The obsession with physical fitness as a New
Year’s resolution is as real in practice as it is in
advertising — just try snagging a vacant ellipti-
cal at the Central Campus Recreational Build-
ing during January. I’m not saying that making
changes to live a healthier lifestyle is a bad
thing. Of course, eating healthfully and get-
ting exercise can improve your health, mood
and body image. But I do fear that too much of
our New Year’s attention is devoted to physical
health, often at the expense of mental health.
It isn’t only eating disorders that worry me
in the midst of diet resolutions. While high
hopes of fitness are on the rise, so too is mental
illness. Seasonal affective disorder, often nick-
named “winter depression,” becomes more
debilitating as daylight hours dwindle. A new
year will bring new challenges that will be
mentally and emotionally taxing, but the focus
of the resolution industry is not on prepar-
ing our minds for these challenges. Roughly a
quarter of Americans are estimated to suffer
from a diagnosable mental illness, and yet the
conversation about improving our lives every
January never seems to speak to this popula-
tion. We see commercials for the local gym and
not the local therapist. We read success stories
of weight management and not about manag-
ing anxiety disorders. We are taught to strive
for toned physiques while nothing is said about
the brain that pilots the toned body.
After cholesterol medications, antidepres-
sants are the most prescribed drugs in Amer-
ica, but there is still a stigma associated with
taking them. Mental illnesses are viewed
differently than other diseases, where tak-
ing meds can seem like a personal deficiency
rather than a way of taking control of one’s
health. A new year offers us a new opportunity
to rethink the definition of what it means to be
healthy, maybe this time with room for healthy
minds. This year, we can resolve to give our
brains some TLC, and to foster an environment
where our peers can, too. A visit to Counseling
and Psychological Services in the Union might
do as much good as a visit to the CCRB. Let’s
talk about therapists like we talk about per-
sonal trainers. Let’s talk about antidepressants
like we talk about antibiotics. Let’s talk about
it, because the resolution industry won’t.
Let’s make 2015 the year we resolve to
improve our mental health.
— Sydney Hartle can be reached
at hartles@umich.edu.
A
s an out-of-state student, my
grossly inflated tuition isn’t
the only difference between
my home state and the one I call my
hoMe for eight months of the year.
I’m a native of Northern California.
Four years ago when I stepped
onto the University’s campus, the
Midwest might have well been Mars
for all I knew about it. The longer I
live in Michigan, the more quirky
and
contrasting
characteristics
I notice between my two homes.
And, like any college student, those
differences are described perfectly
by my love life.
My junior year, I fell for two guys,
one from my home state of Califor-
nia and one from the Midwest. Both
good guys. Both fun guys. Both
broke my heart and both were the
embodiment of their home regions.
I met Midwest at my job. And like
any self-respecting Michigan Man,
he knew exactly what he wanted
to do with his life. Every free sec-
ond was devoted to advancing his
career. Internships, extracurricular
activities, summers and classes all
fervently dedicated to giving him-
self the best opportunity to succeed
in his chosen profession. Every sec-
ond he wasn’t watching the Tigers
or football, that is. He seemed to
have his whole life figured out. If he
didn’t, he faked it pretty damn well.
And not just school- or career-wise.
This kid knew he wanted to marry a
Jewish girl, live in the Midwest and
take his kids to Michigan football
games after Little League practice.
He was ready to be a middle-aged
man at 21.
At Michigan, everyone around
me seems to know what they are
going to be doing in 10 years. The
ones who don’t have still memo-
rized one-liners to give to people
who ask, “and what are you going
to do with that major?” even if they
don’t believe in what they are saying
at all.
California
was
directionless,
and completely up front about it.
He took general education require-
ments at his college and that was
the only career choice he had made.
He didn’t have a 10-year plan — he
didn’t have a five-month plan. He
loved playing the field when it came
to girls and didn’t have the word
“marriage” in his vocabulary, let
alone in his 10-year plan. He didn’t
pretend he knew what the hell he
was doing. His absence of life choic-
es was refreshing. It was like his life
would sneak up on him. Tricking
him into the choices he made. He
lived in the present, because that
was honestly all he really had.
The people in my hometown
maybe have some idea of where
they would like to end up, but it’s
hazy at best and usually more like
an abyss. But they own this fact.
They don’t feel the pressure to fake
a life plan, something I see often
in Michigan. Of course they have
moments of doubt where feelings
of
purposelessness
overwhelm
them. But they smoke a bowl and
have friends remind them they’re
only 21.
Midwest
was
obsessed
with
social media and it fueled my obses-
sion with him. Twitter, Facebook
and Instagram. If I really wanted
to, I could “accidently on purpose”
run into him every day. His every
movement was posted online. I have
to admit he might have been an
extreme example, but it does seem
like the state of Michigan is much
more intent on sharing their lives
on the internet than my home town
(ironic since my home town is Palo
Alto where most of those networks
were created). My friends at Michi-
gan desire to become insta-famous.
Every holiday, birthday or anniver-
sary has a photo collage posted on
both Facebook and Instagram. Yik
Yak is infinitely more popular, and
better, on campus at U of M than
at Stanford.
California made fun of me for
having a Twitter even though “I
only use it for news, I promise.”
He rarely posted to the one social
network he had, Facebook, and
had a total of 134 pictures. (Mid-
west had around 1,000). While I
love that the Northern California
region is less likely to live their lives
solely online, it was frustrating
because he took forever to answer
Facebook messages.
The Michigan and the Midwest
region had a reputation for being
the nice and polite part of Amer-
ica — as rude as New Yorkers are
is how nice Midwesterners are. In
my experience, Midwesterners are
nice, but more than that, they want
to avoid confrontation. Midwest
couldn’t be honest with me if he
thought it would make me upset or
uncomfortable. He had difficult or
uncomfortable conversations over
text, not in person.
California liked to sext. And text
about “How I Met Your Mother” or
about pretty much anything. We
texted a lot and most of it was about
nothing at all. But when we had to
have those hard conversations, I
was the one running away from
confrontation, not him.
These guys had similarities that
I loved just as the Midwest and
California do. They were likeable
people who were easy to talk to. I
have never had a hard time making
friends in California (once out of
the horror of high school) or Michi-
gan. People are open and genuinely
interested in the people around
them in both places.
They were both chivalrous. Mid-
west wouldn’t let me walk home if
it was past midnight, insisting on
driving me the two blocks to my
house. California always walked on
the car-side of me when we were
walking down a busy street. So
moms of California and Michigan,
you taught your sons well.
While different in many ways,
neither was better than the other,
both of the boys and both of my
homes. Every time I go back to
Palo Alto I think, “This is where I
am supposed to be. This is where I
fit in.” Then two months later I’m
craving to go back to the Mitten. I
arrive at DTW and I think, “Now
I’m really where I am supposed to
be.” And by Thanksgiving I am sick
of my roommates and ready to see
my high school friends. The cycle
continues and has continued for
four years. I have finally accepted
that both places are exactly where
I belong.
— Jesse Klein can be reached
at jekle@umich.edu.
Two places, two loves
ELI
CAHAN
SEX.
DRUGS.
UNIVERSITY ADMINISTRATION.
LET’S TALK.
Editboard: every Monday and Wednesday at 6p.m. Email: opinion@michigandaily.com
ELIANA
HERMAN
SYDNEY
HARTLE