The Problem With Sexy Science

When peer review fails, how can journalists, researchers, and lawmakers be more vigilant?

- Kiera Butler

Brian Wansink had it all: a high-profile lab at Cornell University, more than 200 scientific studies to his name, and a best-selling book. Plus, his research was really cool. Wansink studied how physical cues affect our eating habits. He found, for example, that people who leave their cereal in plain view tend to weigh more than people who keep it out of sight, and that people consume more when they use bigger plates. I profiled him for Mother Jones in 2015 and sifted through dozens of his papers. Like the junk food he studied, his work had an almost addictive quality.

Here’s the problem: It’s no longer clear how much of Wansink’s work can withstand scientific scrutiny. In January 2017, a research team published a review of four of his papers and turned up roughly 150 inconsistencies. Since then, in a slowly unfolding scandal, Wansink’s data, methods, and integrity have been called into question. In September, the Journal of the American Medical

Association (JAMA) Network retracted six articles he co-authored. To date, at least 15 Wansink studies have been retracted. The day after the JAMA retractions, Cornell announced that an internal investigation had found evidence of academic misconduct; Wansink was promptly relieved of his teaching and research duties. (Wansink has admitted to some mistakes in methodology but stands by his work.)

Were there warning signs I missed? Maybe. But I wasn’t alone. Wansink’s studies went through hundreds of peer reviews—often at journals considered some of the most prestigious in their fields. The federal government didn’t look close enough, either: In 2007, Wansink was named head of the US Department of Agri culture’s Center for Nutrition Policy and Promotion. There, he helped craft the national 2010 dietary guidelines.