“Cite the Study!”: The Cult of Clinical Evidence and Why You’re Probably Reading It Wrong

Welcome to the age of Google PhDs and armchair epidemiologists — where you can’t even say, “Lion’s Mane helps with brain fog” without someone leaping in with “Can you cite the study?”

But here’s the thing: citing a study doesn’t always mean what you think it means.

Most people treat research papers like mic drops — but actually reading and understanding a study is a whole different beast. Because that nice, neat little “conclusion” at the end? It’s not gospel. It’s not a thesis statement. It's often a cautious, context-heavy whisper into the abyss of biological complexity.

Let’s unpack that with a currently trending example: Lion’s Mane mushroom (Hericium erinaceus).
It’s been hyped for boosting brainpower, improving mood, maybe even regrows nerves — like your brain’s overcompensating for a tiny hippocampus. Are people wrong? Not necessarily. So let’s take a proper look at the research — and how to get through it without needing a therapist and a thesaurus.

The Lion’s Mane Lowdown: What the Studies Actually Say

Study #1: Cognitive Function in Older Adults

(2009, Japan — PubMed link)

• Who: 30 adults with mild cognitive impairment
  
• What: 250 mg of Lion’s Mane, three times daily vs. placebo, for 16 weeks
  
• Result: Improved cognitive scores in the Lion’s Mane group
  
• Catch: The improvements disappeared after stopping the supplement
  

Takeaway:
Tiny sample size. No long-term data. It’s not “Lion’s Mane cures memory loss,” but it’s enough to say “Hey, this looks worth digging into.”

Study #2: Mood & Menopause

(2010 — PubMed link)

• Who: 30 menopausal women
  
• What: Cookies containing Lion’s Mane vs. placebo cookies
  
• Result: Lower anxiety and depression scores after 4 weeks
  
• Caveat: Small group, short trial, and let’s be honest — cookies are a wild card.
  

The Animal Stuff

Loads of preclinical studies show Lion’s Mane boosting nerve growth factor (NGF), improving neuroplasticity, and reducing inflammation — in rats and mice.
Translation: Promising? Sure. Applicable to humans? Possibly. But let’s not pretend a mouse with better memory is a green light for your nootropic stack.

Now, About “Statistical Significance” — Because That Phrase Gets Thrown Around Like Confetti

This is where people start to lose the plot. Someone reads a study and parrots the headline:

“Lion’s Mane significantly improved memory!”

Okay… but what does “significantly” actually mean?

• It doesn’t mean massive
  
• It doesn’t mean clinically relevant
  
• It means the results were unlikely to be caused by random chance (usually p < 0.05)
  

That’s it. That’s the bar. And it’s a fairly low one.

In plain English:
Statistical significance just means we noticed a pattern — not that it was earth-shattering, or even particularly useful in the real world.

And While We’re Here: “Correlation” Doesn't Equal “Causation”

If people who take Lion’s Mane score higher on memory tests, that doesn’t prove Lion’s Mane caused the improvement.
Maybe they also get more sleep .Maybe they write things down.. Maybe they just have their shit together.
The study might not know. You definitely don’t.

That’s why replication and controls are everything. One study is a breadcrumb — not the whole loaf.

How to Read a Study Without Losing the Plot

Here’s your quick and dirty guide:

• Sample size matters
  10 people? Not really a study, more of a WhatsApp group. Even 30’s just a polite dinner party. Real data needs real numbers.
  
• Check the funding
  If it’s paid for by the Lion’s Mane Marketing Association, take it with a mushroom-sized pinch of salt.
  
• Read the methods
  What were they actually measuring? Were there controls? How long did it run? Who was involved?
  
• Don’t skip the limitations
  Researchers are often brutally honest about the flaws in their own study. You should be too.
  
• “More research is needed” isn't a cop-out (but sometimes — no one else can be arsed funding it).
  That’s science being science. It means, “Interesting, sure — but nothing to rewire your brain over”.

We’ve digressed slightly from the initial point of the blog, but while we’re here… Is Lion’s Mane Worth Taking?

Maybe!
The early research is genuinely promising — especially when it comes to mood, neuroplasticity, and cognitive support. The biological mechanism makes sense (hello, nerve growth factor), and while the human trials are small, they’re intriguing enough to warrant more digging.

Yes — we do sell Lion’s Mane.
Clearly, we believe in its potential. We’ve had amazing feedback from customers — sharper focus, clearer thinking, calmer moods. We’re not here to discredit those experiences; they’re part of why we do this.

But we’re also not in the business of selling fairy dust. Anecdotes are meaningful, but they’re not clinical evidence. Just because Lauren from spin class reckons it unlocked her third eye doesn’t mean it’ll work for you. That’s not a flaw in the product — it’s just biology doing what biology does.

We’re all messy little ecosystems of genes, hormones, stress, gut bugs, sleep patterns, and diet. One person might feel the effects in a week, another might need a higher dose or more time, and someone else might feel bugger all.
That doesn’t make it snake oil — it makes it a tool. And like any tool, it needs the right job and the right context.

Lion's Mane Conclusion: Use Your Brain (Literally)

Is Lion’s Mane worth trying? We think so.
Just don’t come at it like it’s magic. Use it as part of a broader plan — eat well, sleep properly, look after your mind — and listen to how your body responds.

.Final Word: Science Isn't Scripture

The next time someone throws a study at you like it's a holy text, take a breath. Science isn’t a highlight reel — it’s a slow, careful conversation — it’s a process. It’s messy, nuanced, and constantly evolving. One study doesn’t mean proof. “Statistically significant” doesn’t mean life-changing. And citing research you haven’t properly read doesn’t make you informed — it makes you loud.

That said, anecdotal evidence isn’t something to be blindly dismissed either. It’s not clinical proof, but it is real human experience. If enough people are saying a thing helps — that’s a signal. A soft one, sure, but a signal nonetheless. It’s how a lot of science starts.

Real science is a conversation, not a courtroom verdict. It invites questions, it admits uncertainty, and it always leaves room for “we don’t fully know — yet.”

Think critically, stay curious, and remember: even solid evidence is just part of the picture, not the whole story.

That’s real science: personal, dynamic, and never absolute.