Research Fortnight go two more rounds with Demos
‘Time to disengage’
Research Fortnight, Editorial, 14 September 2005
There is a slightly Soviet feel about last week’s pamphlet from the Demos think-tank, its latest attempt to push ‘engagement’ further and faster.
The idea that the research councils should hire social scientists to work alongside research groups and help them with engagement is no doubt well meaning. But in what way would putting a few social scientists in positions of such leverage enhance democracy’ There is something of the Party commissar about it.
Then there is the suggestion that scientific ‘excellence is automatically taken to include’wider engagement on social and ethical dimensions.’ Here we should remember Trofim Denisovich Lysenko, who won the political arguments in the 1930s but succeeded only in turning the Soviet Union against the un-Marxist theory of genetics.
Indeed, in some ways, the ‘engagists’ are worse than Stalinists. For at least tankies are always explicit about questions of power, whereas in engagement studies power is never mentioned. It is evident that scientists are supposed to lose power, but who is supposed to gain it’
After years of promotion, it remains unclear what the muddle of engagement actually is. If we go back, it is clear that the old Public Understanding of Science agenda was hopelessly patronising. At the same time, it was clear that the story of GM crops in Britain was a disaster. We needed to do something, but in choosing engagement we took a wrong turn.
Put another way, the brand of science had become tarnished. What we needed to do was polish the brand, clarifying its distinctive virtues, adjusting the product where it was deficient and tackling unwarranted criticism head-on. Instead, with engagement, we seemed to deny the distinctiveness of science altogether, further confusing the public.
Instead of a confused all-encompassing theory, we need a pragmatic response rooted in the essential character of science. It could look like this:
Public understanding ‘ patronising but at least the role the scientist aspires to is clear. And lots of people are happy to be students some of the time. Deserves a place and, properly respected, would stop scientists from making exaggerated claims for their pet projects.
Inspiration ‘ Britain’s chemistry departments need a recruiting sergeant. Keep on reaching out.
Ethical arena ‘ as Robert Winston said last week, the public has the right to set the boundaries within which scientists operate.
Research priorities ‘ like the division of the budget for healthcare or transport, ultimately the responsibility of politicians. Bring this decision-making out of the shadows and let the lobbying begin.
Individual funding decisions and projects ‘ the citizen’s best demands are for relevance and viability, requirements that are increasingly enforced.
Such an approach would leave the looming battle over nanotechnology firmly where it belongs, in the political arena. Those who want to see nanotechnology industrialised and worry that activists may inspire the public to fear and oppose their inventions, cannot rely on science to provide the solution. Science should not attempt to provide the answer.
In a foreword to the Demos pamphlet, Winston says, ‘The time is right for examining the means and details of public engagement.’ He’s right. That should be taken as a call for a critical and independent review of the engagement industry. Then perhaps we’ll be able to move on.
Letter to William Cullerne Bown, Editor, Research Fortnight
22 September 2005
William,
I was amused to read your editorial on our pamphlet 'The Public Value of Science'. Demos has been called many things in its 12-year history - particularly by critics on the left, who often accuse us of selling out to Blairite neoliberalism. But I can honestly say this is the first time we've been called Stalinists - and for that, you'll merit a special place in our cuttings file.
Seriously though, it would have been nice if you'd - dare I say it - 'engaged' with our argument, rather than setting up a straw man that you could then throw eggs at. As you'll know if you've actually read the pamphlet, our main proposal is not for 'social scientists to work alongside research groups' - valuable though that kind of activity can be - but rather for natural and physical scientists themselves to take the lead in building social and ethical reflection into the ongoing practice of research. In that sense, we're challenging precisely the kind of narrow model of 'public engagement' that you rightly criticise.
It's a shame that you say nothing about these issues - nor respond to any of our arguments about the RAE, private-public tensions or policy approaches to emerging technologies. Research Fortnight is a serious publication, and I would welcome you opening up a serious discussion of what works and what doesn't in this arena. But on this occasion, you've responded to a broadsheet argument with a tabloid editorial. It's interesting to compare your stance to that of Nature, which in its editorial this week on nanotechnology provides a thoughtful analysis of these debates, whilst still making some constructive criticisms.
You may not like it, but I'm afraid the argument for more public engagement in science has already been won. The OST, the Research Councils and organisations such as the Wellcome Trust are all experimenting with new approaches. So if you want to be treated as a serious participant in those debates, you'll need to provide more than a few incoherent and hastily-scribbled thoughts about 'polishing the brand of science' and appointing 'recruiting sergeants'.
James Wilsdon
Head of Science & Innovation, Demos
Letter to James Wilsdon, 23 September 2005
Dear James,
I see your email was written late at night and copied in half of Britain’s science establishment. You’ve obviously taken it personally. That’s good. It shows you care, which is one of the reasons I think Demos and you in particular are such a good thing for science.
‘Straw men’, a ‘tabloid’ approach, ‘incoherent and hastily-scribbled thoughts’ you say. Well, in 600 words I wanted to both critique your pamphlet and offer an alternative to the current fashion for engagement. So I make no apology for offering some of the arguments in shorthand. Now you can see them in full.
I never called you a Stalinist. (So much for straw men.) But you seem to think that because you are not a Stalinist you are immune from making some of the same mistakes they did. This is not so.
Science is undoubtedly a social process, subject to the same pressures as everything else. But it also has its own distinctive features. In particular, in its reproducability it provides a common ground of agreed facts. The great thing about science is you don’t have to trust the other person. You can always go and check her findings. Recognition of this distinctive virtue is one of the things the engagists seem to have lost.
Under Stalin, the Soviet Union denied the distinctiveness of science. In this it followed the church and foreshadowed today’s creationists and some anti-GM activists. In none of these cases was the denial a question of sheer bloody mindedness. It came about because these groups found the wider social and ethical questions more important than what we may reasonably call the truth. When you say, for example, that scientific ‘excellence is automatically taken to include ... wider engagement on social and ethical dimensions’ you repeat this folly.
Like you, I believe scientists should build social and ethical reflection into their working day. Back in the 1970s I seem to remember a group called something like Scientists for Social Responsibility that made the same point. It is a good and humane sentiment. But you make too much of it.
It is patronising and very wide of the mark to suggest that scientists don't think about these things already. Furthermore, such sentiments apply to everyone, not just scientists. If we’re going to spend public funds on making scientists nicer people, why not do the same with dockers and lawyers’
In addition, there are other, competing things we want of scientists to contribute, for example, to economic growth. They only have limited time.
And finally, the benefits that are supposed to flow from this activity are vague. Public spending on this objective, via the RAE or elsewhere, would simply create a playpen in which engagement enthusiasts could spend years feeling good but achieving little. Since there will be no way of telling that the policy has failed, it is unaccountable. That’s the reverse of the everyday democracy Demos says it wants to promote. By contrast, my proposal for improved public debate about the priorities set by ministers for spending on science would strengthen the citizen’s hand.
For all these reasons, funding your ambition to rewire the hearts and minds of scientists is a dubious way of spending public money. Just as importantly, it confuses and neglects the real problems that science does face, distracting us from dealing with them.
I am well aware that engagement is the new orthodoxy. But what is it’ Or, since I suspect there is quite a lot of work that we’d both agree is worthwhile, in what way does it offer anything more than the pragmatic approach I set out in the editorial’
Kind regards,
William
Letter to William Cullerne Bown, 29 September 2005
William,
You make a persuasive case for the distinctiveness of science. On this, we can agree. But I’d go further, by arguing that the role science and technology play in helping to shape social futures, in opening up new options and closing down others, is as much part of that distinctiveness as the scientific method itself.
If, as Alec Broers argued in the first of his 2005 Reith Lectures, ‘technology will determine the future of the human race’, scientists and engineers shouldn’t be surprised if people occasionally tap them on the shoulder and say ‘excuse me, can we talk about where your research might be taking us’’.
.
And this is also what separates scientists from dockers and lawyers. Of course, science is only one of a vast range of factors that interweave in processes of social change. And we should support ethical reflection and accountability across many different professions and sectors. But scientists occupy a position of particular importance, and I make no apology for singling them out for special attention.
Look at the continual references that Tony Blair and Gordon Brown make to science in their speeches. Science, to them, is a powerful symbol of modernity, of social and economic progress. And this contributes to a wider climate in which ethical and social deliberation about science and technology ‘ by scientists and the wider public ‘ is crucial to the architecture of our democracy.
So it’s precisely a belief in the distinctiveness of science that leads Demos to say we should support scientists to build ongoing social reflection into their research. You say ‘it is patronising’to suggest that scientists don’t think about these things already.’ But we would never suggest anything so crass. On the contrary, our recent pamphlet arose from extensive discussions with scientists on precisely these questions. It includes direct quotes from many of them, and a foreword by one: Robert Winston.
What these scientists say is that yes, of course they think about these questions. But the structures of research funding, the incentives created by the RAE, and the drive (from government) for ever closer links with industry, restricts their freedom and capacity to devote sufficient attention to the social and ethical dimensions of their work.
And this isn’t just a problem for senior scientists at the pinnacle of their careers. It runs through the entire research system. As one PhD nanoscientist put it to us, ‘It seems strange that at one of the UK’s top universities, you have compulsory courses on attracting venture capital and business angels, but nothing on the history of science, the philosophy of science, the social impacts and dilemmas of technology.’
With so little attention paid to these issues during the course of scientific training, it’s hardly surprising that many scientists feel ill-equipped to respond to public controversies when they arise ‘ whether over GM crops, the MMR vaccine or nanotechnologies.
Deep down, I think you recognise this is a genuine problem. But your response reminds me of the schoolgirl in Catherine Tate’s BBC sketch show. Faced with these dilemmas, you simply shrug your shoulders and say ‘Am I bovvered’’.
You argue that this agenda is a distraction that ‘confuses and neglects the real problems that science does face.’ I completely disagree. If we are to attract more young people to scientific careers, and maintain Britain’s position as a world-class centre for R&D, we must do more to connect science and technology to the values, aspirations and concerns of ordinary people. Scientists need more regular opportunities to talk about the choices they are making, and the purposes to which their research might be directed. Developing a more authentic debate on these questions is in the best interests of science, and of an enlightened democracy.
Regards,
James
Letter to James Wilsdon, 3 October 2005
Dear James,
Technology doesn’t determine the future. The idea seems to reflect a sort of science fiction view of what life actually is, as if Victorian life was composed of trains and matches. What about the slaves and the mistresses, is technology supposed to explain those’ And even the artefacts themselves have many explanations, perhaps economic, military or ideological. This notion isn’t worth a second glance.
Yet it is revealing that leading scientists such as Alec Broers have sufficient vanity in their calling to make such inflated claims. This reflects an enthusiasm among scientists - encouraged by the ‘special attention’ you lavish on them - to take on an aggrandised role. The classic case must be the attempts of Einstein et al to put the nuclear genie back in the bottle, which were shot through with a fantasy that scientists retained some sort of hold over what had been created. They didn’t and, frankly, as a democrat, I don’t want them to.
The converse of this is the attitude of our politicians. Looking back over the GM crops saga, the one consistent feature of the government’s approach was its determination to avoid taking a clear position on whether it supported the growing of GM crops or not. For those considering whether to invest in the technology here, it was that uncertainty that squeezed them out. So we ended up with a situation in which ministers over the years spent hundreds of millions on developing GM science but then squandered the investment when it was ready to pay off.
Or take vivisection. Not a single party leader has made a public statement supporting continued experimenting on animals.
These failures aren’t the failures of science. They are the failures of politics. So between politics and science there is this shaded area where scientists are tempted to stretch science too far and politicians prefer to hang back. The only people who are there in the right way are the technophobic activists, which is part of the reason they keep winning even though their numbers are tiny and they don’t have the public on their side.
Now, where does engagement fit in’ I keep asking what it is without getting an answer. So here’s my own. Engagement is the fudge that will allow this situation to continue, and indeed institutionaqlises it. Politicians keep the threat of electoral damage at arms length. Science pays the price. Dragooned into a defensive line by the politicians, its distinctive independence is compromised.
In short, in recognising the distinctiveness of science we must not be too ambitious for it. As I said, I also see a place for social and ethical relection in the lives of scientists. But that should not be allowed to bend science out of shape.
You mentioned Blair and Brown. But you confuse their use of technology as a convenient totem of modernity with a willingness to take part in the debates that have given life to the engagement industry, such as the one over nanotechnology. The question for these two, and their companions in Parliament, is not whether they think science is shiny and exciting; it is whether they back the deployment of nanotechnology.
Like other think tanks, Demos exists to assist politicians. So it is not surprising that its role in all this is to facilitate the seduction of the scientists. But unlike Broers, my view is that our future is determined more by people than anything else. I’m surprised Demos is not more sympathetic towards that.
Best,
William
Letter to William Cullerne Bown, 3 October 2005
Dear William,
Demos certainly believes that people should determine their own futures. And like most think tanks, we aim not only to assist politicians, but also to challenge them to look at the world differently.
You’ve misunderstood part of my earlier argument. I’m no technological determinist. I quoted Alec Broers precisely to point out how pervasive the fatalistic assumption that ‘technology will determine the future’ has become. But the fact that I don’t agree with such a deterministic account is less important than the fact that many scientists and politicians still do. And its precisely these kind of visions and expectations surrounding science and technology that we believe need to be opened up to wider democratic scrutiny and debate.
You say that the government was guilty during the GM controversy of not taking ‘a clear position on whether it supported the growing of GM crops or not.’ But one could equally argue that the problem with GM technology was that a proper discussion of its implications didn’t take place until it had already hit the shops. At this stage, the only two possible positions were pro or anti. We will never know what might have happened if the public had been allowed to engage with the technology’s benefits and uncertainties at an earlier stage.
So with new developments, such as nanotechnologies, we have an opportunity to do things differently. The last thing we should expect government to do is answer the meaningless question of ‘whether they back the deployment of nanotechnology.’ Rather, government should encourage and participate in a broader discussion of the potential benefits and uncertainties that surround particular nanotechnologies, in order that we might use those technologies to help shape the collective futures that we want. It’s not about whether, so much as what, how and why.
I agree that there are many dilemmas in the space where science meets politics. These problems aren’t going to disappear by shutting off areas of debate. Disagreements will continue, but we can at least try to make them more constructive. Public engagement does not ‘fudge’ this issue; it makes it visible and invites a grown-up discussion about ways forward.
You worry that public engagement will become institutionalised. So do I. But this doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep trying. Indeed, the fact that we’ve had this exchange is itself a small step in the right direction. It suggests to me that, although you might not put it in these terms, you agree that we need to discuss and clarify the public value of science.
Best,
James