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Seemingly contradictory redirect

Searching for "criminalistics" redirects to this page, but the very first sentence says "Forensic science, often confused with criminalistics." It seems to me that either the redirect is inappropriate, or the first sentence is wrong. 38.100.19.66 (talk)

Note the first citation, the Criminalistics entry from World of Forensic Science. See also the second, Criminology Vs. Criminalistics: What's the Difference?. Mcljlm (talk) 18:17, 21 April 2025 (UTC)

I agree it's a little confusing, and the encyclopedia.com entry is poorly written. But I guess the introduction serves to express the fact that some people might assume that criminalistics (identifying and collecting evidence at crime scenes) is all there is to forensic science, when in fact it's a much broader field. Omzrs (talk) 06:47, 25 April 2025 (UTC)

Wiki Education assignment: Legal Research

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Fire science

This article badly needs the addition of information on the revolution in fire investigation techniques occasioned by the application of the scientific method to undermine previously accepted methods used to prove or disprove a hypothesis of arson, beginning in around 1989 and evidenced in succeeding iterations of NFPA 921. PDGPA (talk) 04:17, 2 February 2025 (UTC)

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Strange line discussing whether "darker skin extends a protective element" against injuries

I'm not an expert, but this one sentence in #Controversies stood out as strange to me.

"Many studies have discovered a difference in rape-related injuries reporting based on race, with white victims reporting a higher frequency of injuries than black victims. However, since current forensic examination techniques may not be sensitive to all injuries across a range of skin colors, more research needs to be conducted to understand if this trend is due to skin confounding healthcare providers when examining injuries or if darker skin extends a protective element [emphasis mine]." To me this sounds like the racist notion that black people have "thicker skin" and feel less pain than their white counterparts.

The cited study included the line However, until further research is done, clinicians need to recognize that the differences in injury prevalence and frequency at these locations may be due to a protective nature of dark skin. as well as the less definitive This finding suggests ... light skin and dark skin have different protective properties. Because the line is essentially supported by the study, I don't know what action to take on the main article. I also may be wrong, but it definitely feels sort of pseudoscientific as it's written now. ‍ –‍ Kilvin77 • 👾  22:31, 4 August 2025 (UTC)

Adding that this article has a conclusion (last line of the abstract) that IMO makes more sense: Sexual assault forensic examiners, therefore, may not be able to detect injury in women with dark skin as readily as women with light skin, leading to health disparities for women with dark skin. This seems like the no-brainer conclusion to reach, certainly the more plausible one if one is at the point of speculating about an inherent "protective" quality of darker skin.

If darker skin did indeed have some "protective quality" with respect to injuries, we would expect to see this with varied injuries and circumstances. Instead, it is primarily in this study focusing on anogenital injury resulting from consensual and non-consensual sexual intercourse that we see these differences.

In fact, outside of the above linked article with a conclusion specific to sexual assault forensic examiners, we also see a similar pattern for other injuries/circumstances. For example, "pressure injuries":

• Black J et al. Current perspectives on pressure injuries in persons with dark skin tones from the National Pressure Injury Advisory Panel
• Insights on pressure injuries in diverse skin tones (Not a published article but interview featuring two medical professionals, includes discussion of findings from the above article)

So the current staging and identification system does not adequately address the diversity of skin tones and color, particularly in people with dark skin. For instance, a stage one pressure injury is typically defined and described as a nonblanchable area of redness, typically over a bony prominence. While a deep tissue injury on the other hand is described as an area of dark discoloration, again, over a bony prominence. Well, that's much easier to identify in someone with lighter skin, whereas in a person with a darker skin tone, those changes will be more difficult to identify and describe because the skin is already dark. So no wonder we have extensive clinical data that shows that people with darker skin tones have more advanced pressure injuries. They have rates of pressure injuries that are multiple times higher, especially in the advanced stages, compared to people with lighter skin.

There are articles like this one "Archive: Darker Skin is Stronger Skin, Says New View of Human Skin Color" which make vague claims about the strength of the skin barrier that could maybe be extrapolated to claims about injuries... but this falls apart when consulting the actual study the article was based on which, published in the American Journal of Biological Anthropology, is much more about the evolutionary reasons behind changes in human skin pigmentation.

I'm quite baffled as to why the Baker et al. source cited in the article states that "clinicians need to recognize" the possibility that "differences in injury prevalence and frequency" are due to protection conferred by darker skin when it would be more consistent with other studies for it to be an issue of the detection abilities of healthcare providers.

The study does acknowledge this by saying: "One possible explanation ... is an intrinsic difference in the skin of women of different races or different skin colors that puts some women at a greater risk for sustaining injuries. An alternative explanation is that the methods used to detect injury are less sensitive to visualize anogenital injury in victims with darker skin." Ultimately this needs to be better represented in the WP article. ‍ –‍ Kilvin77 • 👾  02:29, 17 May 2026 (UTC)

harrison thorpe

Harrison Thorpe and the Weight of the Drum The rain had been falling for three days when Harrison Thorpe first realized he was a coward. Not the ordinary kind of coward, the sort who hesitates before speaking in public or avoids dark alleyways at night. Harrison was the kind of coward who felt his stomach twist into knots whenever he heard the distant boom of artillery. The kind whose hands shook when he cleaned his rifle. The kind who lay awake imagining every possible way he might die before morning. Unfortunately for Harrison, he was also a soldier. He served in the 17th King's Regiment, a unit stationed on the borderlands of the kingdom of Eldoria. For generations, Eldoria had enjoyed peace, but that peace had shattered when the neighboring empire of Varkos crossed the mountains and began claiming villages one by one. Young men from every corner of the kingdom rushed to enlist. They spoke of glory, honor, and defending their homeland. Harrison had enlisted too. Not because he was brave. Not because he believed in glory. He enlisted because every other young man in his village had done the same. When the recruitment officer arrived, villagers gathered around him. Harrison's friends stepped forward eagerly. "Imagine the stories we'll tell when we return," one of them said. Harrison smiled weakly and stepped forward as well. Inside, he was terrified. But fear was easier to hide than shame. Training was miserable. Other recruits climbed walls and charged across muddy fields with determination. Harrison stumbled over obstacles, dropped equipment, and nearly fainted during live-fire exercises. His sergeant, a giant man named Captain Rowan Blackwood, noticed quickly. "Thorpe!" he barked one afternoon. "Sir?" "Why are you crawling? The enemy isn't throwing rocks at you." Harrison stood. "Sorry, sir." The captain stared at him. "You're afraid." Harrison's face turned red. "No, sir." "You're a terrible liar." The recruits laughed. Harrison wished the ground would swallow him whole. Months later, war arrived. The regiment marched north. Villages burned in the distance. Smoke darkened the horizon. Refugees crowded roads carrying everything they owned. For the first time, Harrison saw what war truly meant. Not banners. Not medals. Not heroic speeches. War meant frightened children. War meant exhausted mothers. War meant old men staring at ruined homes. And somehow that terrified him even more. The regiment's first battle took place near the River Arlen. Thousands of soldiers lined opposite banks. Trumpets sounded. Orders echoed. Then came the thunder of cannon fire. The world exploded. Earth flew into the air. Men screamed. Horses collapsed. Harrison froze. Everything inside him demanded that he run. Around him soldiers charged forward. He remained standing. Unable to move. Unable to think. A shell landed nearby. The blast threw him backward into a ditch. For several seconds he lay there, stunned. Then he heard someone crying for help. A young soldier named Peter Hale had been wounded. His leg was trapped beneath a collapsed wagon. "Harrison!" Peter shouted. "Help me!" Harrison looked toward the battlefield. Then toward Peter. Then toward safety. His instincts screamed at him to run. Instead, he crawled toward his friend. Not because he was brave. Because leaving Peter behind felt worse than being afraid. With shaking hands, Harrison lifted the debris and dragged Peter into cover. The entire time he expected a cannonball to kill them both. Neither died. When the battle ended, Captain Blackwood approached. "I heard what you did." Harrison stared at the ground. "I wasn't trying to be heroic." "Good." Harrison blinked. "Good?" "Heroes are usually fools." The captain nodded toward the wounded. "You were scared." "Yes, sir." "You did it anyway." The captain walked away. Harrison didn't understand why those words stayed with him. The war dragged on. Months became years. The regiment fought across forests, mountains, and frozen plains. Harrison remained afraid every single day. Fear never left. It never became easier. When veterans told stories about becoming hardened by war, Harrison assumed they were lying. His hands still shook. His stomach still churned. He still considered deserting at least once a week. But little by little, something changed. Each time fear told him to abandon someone, he stayed. Each time terror told him to hide, he stepped forward. Not far. Not dramatically. Just enough. One choice at a time. The turning point came during the Siege of Ashmoor. Ashmoor Fortress guarded the only pass through the Ironfang Mountains. If it fell, Varkos would have a direct path into the heart of Eldoria. The fortress endured months of attacks. Food ran low. Water became scarce. Hope faded. One freezing night, scouts delivered terrible news. An enemy force had discovered a hidden tunnel beneath the fortress walls. By dawn they would use it to infiltrate the keep. If nobody stopped them, the fortress would fall. Captain Blackwood gathered his officers. The tunnel was narrow. Only a small group could enter. The mission was nearly suicidal. Volunteers were requested. Silence filled the room. Not because the soldiers lacked courage. Because everyone understood the odds. Then someone stood. It was Harrison. The room turned toward him. Even Harrison seemed surprised. "I'll go." Captain Blackwood raised an eyebrow. "You understand what you're volunteering for?" "No." The room chuckled nervously. Harrison swallowed. "I mean... I understand enough." The captain studied him. "You've spent three years looking terrified." "That's because I am terrified." More laughter. Even Harrison smiled. A little. Captain Blackwood nodded. "Very well." The tunnel was dark. Cold water dripped from stone ceilings. Harrison led a small team carrying lanterns. Every step echoed. Every shadow looked like an enemy. His heart hammered so hard he thought it might burst. Then they heard voices ahead. The enemy was coming. The soldiers looked toward Harrison. For a moment he wanted to surrender command. Someone braver should lead. Someone stronger. Someone who didn't feel sick with fear. But there was nobody else. So Harrison did the only thing he could. He gave orders. The ambush was set. Moments later the tunnel erupted into chaos. Steel clashed against steel. Lanterns shattered. Darkness swallowed everything. Harrison fought desperately. Not skillfully. Not elegantly. Desperately. He slipped. Fell. Lost his weapon. Thought he was dead. Then somehow survived. By dawn, the tunnel remained in Eldorian hands. The enemy infiltration had failed. Ashmoor Fortress endured. And because the fortress endured, the mountain pass remained closed. The invasion stalled. The war changed course. News of the victory spread throughout the kingdom. Stories transformed Harrison into a legend. Bards sang about "Fearless Harrison Thorpe." Children played games pretending to be him. Paintings showed him standing heroically against impossible odds. Whenever Harrison saw these depictions, he groaned. "That's not what happened." Nobody listened. Legends rarely care about truth. Years later, after the war ended, Harrison returned to his village. The surviving veterans were celebrated. Parades marched through streets. Crowds cheered. Flags waved. The king himself offered Harrison a medal. During the ceremony, the king asked him a question. "Tell me, Harrison Thorpe. How did you find the courage to face such dangers?" The crowd fell silent. Everyone expected a grand answer. Perhaps something about honor. Duty. Patriotism. Destiny. Instead Harrison scratched his head. "Your Majesty, I never found courage." Confused murmurs spread through the crowd. The king smiled politely. "What do you mean?" Harrison looked around at thousands of faces. Then he answered honestly. "I was afraid every day." The crowd became completely silent. "I was afraid during training." He pointed at his medal. "I was afraid when I earned this." He looked toward the veterans. "And I was afraid every time I helped someone." The king frowned thoughtfully. "Then why didn't you run?" Harrison considered the question. After a long pause, he answered. "Because people needed me." The silence deepened. "Every time I wanted to run, someone needed help. Every time I wanted to hide, somebody else was depending on me. I wasn't brave enough to stop being afraid." He smiled faintly. "But I was just brave enough to keep going." For a moment nobody spoke. Then an old veteran began clapping. Another joined. Then another. Soon the entire square erupted in applause. Not because Harrison was fearless. But because everyone understood something important. The bravest man among them had been afraid all along. In the years that followed, Harrison Thorpe became one of Eldoria's most respected military figures. Not because he won great battles. Not because he was the strongest soldier. Not because he never felt fear. But because he proved something many people forget: Courage is not the absence of fear. It is choosing what matters more than fear. And no one knew that lesson better than the cowardly soldier named Harrison Thorpe, who spent his entire life frightened—and became a hero anyway. ~2026-34343-34 (talk) 09:55, 11 June 2026 (UTC)