Avid “Planet Kerth” readers will remember that a couple weeks ago I wrote about the amazing sniffing abilities of the beasts that share this planet with us, from beagles to bugs. You probably clipped it and stuck it to the side of your fridge with a magnet.
Go ahead and read it again if you want. I’ll wait.
For those of you who couldn’t find a magnet that week, or who missed that column because of some unforeseen emergency, let me catch you up to speed as quickly as I can:
After telling a few tales about how keen a dog’s sense of smell is, I told of a Michigan State University project in which living locusts’ brains are hooked up to electrodes to sniff out cancer cells in the breath of humans. Locusts are ten times as sensitive as anything else we have been able to come up with when it comes to sniffing out cancer in humans.
But because those locusts must be imprisoned in a laboratory to be hooked up to sensors, I opined that it might be nice if we could invent a little sensor helmet for them to wear, and then to release them back outdoors to do their sniffing.
“That would be a win-win situation for both bug and patient, right?” I wrote. “The bug gets to sniff, and then sniff again another day, and the patient can spend the day in his garden instead of the doctor’s office, and let the medibugs come find him.”
I went on from there.
Of course I did. I always go on.
“Since this whole bug-helmet thing was my idea,” I wrote, “I’ll be waiting patiently for PETA to erect a statue of me. And I think I smell a Nobel prize heading my way.”
You may have thought I was only joking, but apparently PETA didn’t, because the day after that column was published, I got an email from Nicole Meyer, Senior Media Officer of PETA, thanking me for my article.
Although she didn’t mention how far along the design and sculpting of my statue had progressed, she did agree that “no living being should be imprisoned in a laboratory.”
Then she wrote: “We’d love to send you one of our handy Humane Bug Catchers, so that if an insect wanders into your home, you and your family can safely escort them outdoors to sniff another day.”
The words “Humane Bug Catchers” in her note were highlighted in blue, and when I clicked on it, a link opened up showing the nifty device and explaining how it worked.
A photo shows a honeybee sitting safely inside the clear plastic housing, waiting patiently to be relocated back outside among the irises and lilies.
“Complete with a plastic sliding door and housing to safely contain the insect,” the link explained, “the bug catcher makes the transport from your home to outdoors simple.”
What a nifty device! Another win-win gadget, because the bug gets to live, and you get to help it go back outside without getting stung in the attempt. I wish I had invented it!
The Humane Bug Catcher retails for $14.99 — a generous gift for PETA to offer me in thanks for my column.
The only problem is that I can’t accept their generous offer, because to do so would be a violation of journalistic principles.
The Society of Professional Journalists Code of Ethics states: Journalists should “refuse gifts, favors, fees, free travel and special treatment… that may compromise integrity or impartiality, or may damage credibility.”
It would be like giving good reviews to a landscaping company and accepting some free bushes in return. Or writing good reviews of a restaurant so that the owner will treat you to free tacos every now and then.
Because let’s face it, what if the only reason I wrote last week’s column was because I had a bee bumbling around in my house, and I figured the best way to get rid of it would be to write a column about beagles and bugs, hoping that PETA would get in touch with me and offer me a free nifty device to capture it without getting stung?
That could have been what happened, right?
And that would be unethical, right?
Oh, I could have accepted the Bug Catcher and kept it quiet. Who would have known, but me and the bugs?
But how could I sleep at night, keeping that secret from you, dear reader? Because I dream of you often at night, as I’m sure you do of me.
So I wrote to Ms. Meyer of PETA to say thank you for your kind offer, but I’m afraid I must decline. I’ll just keep releasing homebound bees the old risky way. Or maybe I’ll pay Amazon the fifteen bucks to send me one of those nifty devices.
This way I can keep my integrity, because how can you trust a journalist who accepts gifts for the swill that he writes? No, I want you to trust that my swill is as pure, honest and heartfelt as swill can be.
Of course, rejecting their gift for these reasons might help sway PITA into going large with my statue — which technically wouldn’t be a gift to me, but to my adoring public.
And it wouldn’t hurt when the Nobel Prize committee next meets to discuss yet one more of my many inspiring contributions to the world.
TR Kerth is the author of the book “Revenge of the Sardines.” Contact him at trkerth@yahoo.com
