In practice, many public claims about safety rely on a narrow regulatory lens: limits designed around acute heating (SAR). That lens can be rigorous within its scope — but it is commonly treated as if it resolves broader biological questions it was not designed to answer.

Once a narrow model becomes institutionalised, it shapes everything downstream: what outcomes are considered relevant, what exposure patterns are treated as “realistic”, and what findings are dismissed as “inconclusive” simply because they don’t fit the model.

One reason perceptions diverge is simple asymmetry: stakeholders with large budgets can fund far more studies than independent researchers. If many of those studies are designed around endpoints, exposures, or durations that are unlikely to detect effects, the published landscape becomes crowded with “no effect observed” results.

This doesn’t require anyone to fabricate data. It works through volume and framing: multiplying studies that test narrow questions, emphasising review methods that blend incomparable studies together, and repeating “no clear evidence” as if it were “evidence of safety”.

If a technology is everywhere, acknowledging risk feels like acknowledging loss: convenience, connection, social belonging. Many people unconsciously defend “the normal world” by rejecting the possibility outright — especially when they can’t see a direct mechanism in everyday terms.

This creates a secondary harm: people describing symptoms can be treated as irrational or attention-seeking. Whatever the cause of any individual case, that social response is unnecessary — and it makes calm discussion almost impossible.