Fairy tales used to be honest about what they were. They opened with that comforting, unmistakable phrase — "Once upon a time" — signalling to the listener that they were entering the realm of myth, magic, and moral lessons wrapped in fantasy. No one was expected to take the talking wolves, glass slippers, or beanstalks literally. The stories entertained, warned, and shaped culture while everyone understood the boundary between enchantment and reality.

Today, the new fairy tales begin differently. They start with "According to scientists…" or "A new study shows…" or "Experts say…"

And suddenly, the audience is meant to suspend all critical faculties and accept whatever follows as unquestionable truth. The narrative might claim that men can become women simply by declaring it, that children are born in the wrong body, that biological sex is a spectrum, that the planet will boil unless we eat bugs and ban cars, or that endless government spending and speech restrictions will create a utopia of equity. These modern tales are delivered not by wizened storytellers around a fire, but by earnest journalists, activists in lab coats, and government press releases.

The ritual is remarkably effective. "According to scientists" functions like a magical incantation. It bestows instant legitimacy. It silences doubters. It transforms policy wishful thinking into "settled science." Just as children once sat wide-eyed at tales of princes slaying dragons, modern audiences are expected to nod solemnly at claims that would have been laughed out of any previous century.

The problem, of course, is that real science doesn't work like fairy tales. Genuine scientific understanding is provisional, contested, falsifiable, and built on rigorous evidence. It does not demand blind faith or the cancellation of heretics. Yet much of what passes for "the science" in public discourse today is closer to folklore, selective data, exaggerated models, suppressed contrary evidence, and ideological conclusions dressed up in technical language.

We've seen this pattern repeatedly. Nutrition science once assured us that fat was poison and margarine was salvation, until it wasn't. Climate models have repeatedly run too hot. Social science is plagued by replication crises. Gender medicine, once cautious, has been captured by activism, with "according to scientists" used to justify experimental treatments on children that many European countries are now quietly rolling back.

The new opening phrase is so powerful because it weaponises the hard-earned prestige of actual science. Most people respect physics, chemistry, and engineering because those fields deliver working bridges, vaccines, and smartphones. But that respect is being laundered into areas where the evidence is shaky, the consensus manufactured, and the conclusions politically convenient.

This is why the fairy tale analogy fits so well. "Once upon a time" invited you into imagination. "According to scientists" demands you accept the story as fact, or be labelled anti-science. It turns complex, uncertain domains of human life into simplistic morality plays: oppressors and oppressed, saviours and deniers, the enlightened versus the ignorant.

The danger is that when public policy and cultural norms are built on these modern fairy tales, reality eventually intrudes. Biology reasserts itself in women's sports and prisons. Energy physics doesn't care about net-zero deadlines. Mental health data shows the cost of confusing children about their sexed bodies. Societies that lose the ability to distinguish between enchanted stories and empirical reality eventually pay a steep price.

We don't need to abandon science. We need to stop letting activists, bureaucrats, and fearful institutions hide ideological fairy tales behind its name. Real science thrives on scepticism, open debate, and replication. It does not begin with an incantation demanding obedience.

Perhaps it's time we returned to greater honesty in our storytelling, both the old kind and the new. Let fairy tales begin with "Once upon a time." Let actual science speak with evidence, humility, and transparency. And let us treat claims that begin with "According to scientists" with the same healthy scepticism our ancestors applied to wolves in grandmother's clothing.