The
Corruption (and Redemption)
Of Science
By David W. Orr
28 July 27, 2004
Zmag
A recent investigation into the use of
science by the Bush Administration alleges a systematic pattern of suppressing
or distorting scientific evidence across a wide range of issues ( Union
of Concerned Scientists 2004 ). The authors of the report further charge
that the appointment of scientific advisors and members of advisory
panels now serves interests other than the search for truth. Specifically,
the report charges that there is: - a well-established pattern of suppression
and distortion of scientific findings by high-ranking Bush Administration
political appointees in many federal agencies; - a wide-ranging effort
to manipulate the government's scientific advisory system; - and censorship
on topics deemed sensitive to the administration's political "base."
Such manipulation
of science, the authors say, is "unprecedented." In short,
"objective knowledge is being distorted for political ends by the
Bush Administration, and misrepresented or even withheld from Congress
and the public at large."
To those paying
attention, findings such as these will come as no surprise. They fit
a larger pattern that ranges from the misuse of intelligence information
to justify the war in Iraq, to deception about the budget, the economy,
and the effects of tax cuts, to well the list goes on, and in its length
and scope it, too, is unprecedented. Some may object that such information
is partisan and has no place in this journal and no bearing on its mission
of bringing authentic science to bear on the problems of conservation.
On the other hand, whatever one's politics, the corruption of science
and public information for political ends ought to be deeply offensive
to scientists and citizens alike. Allowed to continue it will, like
Lysenkoism in the Soviet Union, demoralize scientists, degrade the reputation
of science, and discredit the information necessary to a free society.
And, specifically for those working in conservation biology, it means
that research, whatever its merit or import, will be discounted or disregarded
by federal agencies, the Congress, and the White House.
As bad as the recent
corruption of U.S. science by right-wing ideologues for political purposes
may be, there is a deeper pattern of corruption described recently by
Manchester Guardian columnist George Monbiot (2004) . The problems cited
by Monbiot include the following:
- 34% percent of
the lead authors of articles in scientific journals are compromised
by their sources of funding;
- only 16% of scientific
journals have a policy on conflicts of interest, and only 0.5% of the
papers published have authors who disclose such conflicts;
- British and U.S.
scientists are putting their names to papers they have not written,
which are instead ghosted by writers working for various companies;
and
- 87% of the scientists
writing clinical guidelines have financial ties to drug companies.
Monbiot, in short,
charges that some branches of university science are systematically
corrupted by corporate money. In recent decades there has been a veritable
flood of corporation funding to major universities, and we may reasonably
assume that the corruption is roughly proportional to the volume of
funding, which is not, however, to say that all research so funded is
thereby corrupted.
Corruption comes
in varying degrees. The Union of Concerned Scientists and George Monbiot
are concerned about the effects of political zealotry, greed, and the
desire for renown on the accuracy of scientific information. But there
is a more subtle kind of corruption by which commercial funding and
private ownership of knowledge cuts off the free flow of ideas in science
and deflects entire fields of knowledge. Some branches of science simply
would not have flourished without the promise of great pecuniary reward
both for researchers and institutions able to patent the results. And
some fields, of considerable importance to the larger human prospect,
have languished because they offer no such potential. As a result, textbooks,
curricula, research agendas, tenure decisions, and employment opportunities
come to reflect the pattern of grant and gift money, not the freely
chosen search for truth. There is no conspiracy here of the sort described
by the Union of Concerned Scientists or George Monbiot. Instead, there
is the power of money to do what money has always done, which is to
get its way in this case by harnessing much of science to the purposes
of commerce and power and thereby to determine the directions of entire
fields of knowledge.
Defenders of the
system argue that the funds so acquired by universities are necessary
to make up the difference between rising budgets and decreasing public
support. But poverty a relative thing is not a good argument for compromising
institutional integrity, the public trust, or the search for truth.
Others argue that the knowledge gained in these fields, however funded,
represents a process akin to evolution in which only the hardy survive.
That leaves unexplained why we know so much about some things, often
trivial or even deleterious to human well-being, and so little about
other things, such as the full extent of life on Earth, the biology
of conservation, women's health, chemical-free farming, or the creation
of livable cities.
There is a third
and deeper source of corruption beyond the power of ideology and money:
the failure of scientific skepticism among scientists themselves. Robert
Sinsheimer, in a remarkable article published in Daedalus in 1978, asked,
"Could there be knowledge, the possession of which, at a given
time and stage of social development, would be inimical to human welfare
and even fatal to the further accumulation of knowledge?" His answer
was affirmative. His point was simply that the right of free inquiry
should not be used to trump larger values, including those of freedom,
public safety, environmental quality, and even human survival. There
is, he asserted, scientific knowledge that we could not control and
which could, one way or another, jeopardize human survival. Twenty-three
years later, Bill Joy said much the same thing, calling for a moratorium
on research into devices capable of self-replication and inherently
beyond human control. Both were widely ignored or dismissed as alarmist.
But if the essence of science is skepticism, then the lack of skepticism
about science itself and the wider context in which it is conducted
is unscientific. Although neither Sinsheimer nor Joy offered easy answers,
a scientific response would have resulted in a wide debate about the
larger implications of scientific inquiry and its relation to human
welfare.
The corruption of
science did not begin with right-wing ideologues in the Bush Administration,
or with corporate funding, or even with the failure of scientists to
think about science skeptically. The roots of the problem go far back
to Francis Bacon's (1627) proposal to join science and government and
to his aim of harnessing science to the goal of "effecting all
things possible." That union and its attendant possibilities lay
dormant until World War II and the systematic use and misuse of science
and scientists by Allied and Axis governments alike. German science
was corrupted to the ends of murder and militarization. But science
in Allied countries can claim no innocence. Witness the legacy of the
Manhattan Project: Hiroshima, Nagasaki, a half-century arms race, radioactive
landscapes, and systematic government secrecy. Bacon could not have
foreseen the extent and scope of the scientific revolution or the possibilities
for governments to corrupt knowledge by applying it to the development
of horrendous weapons and the surveillance and manipulation of its own
citizens.
An even starker
picture emerges in the science that used citizens as guinea pigs for
research reminiscent of Nazi science: the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment
between 1932 and 1972; experiments carried out between 1950 and 1969
in which the government tested drugs, chemical, biological, and radioactive
materials on unsuspecting U.S. citizens; and the deliberate contamination
of 8000 square miles around Hanford, Washington, to assess the effects
of dispersed plutonium ( Cornwell 2003 ). And there has been a century
or more of persistent corporate secrecy about the health and ecological
effects of pollution and any number of products and industrial processes.
We learn of such things, to the extent that we learn of them at all,
long afterward and mostly by some accidental breach in the wall of secrecy.
Looking ahead, the
advance of science will increase the temptations for secrecy and the
further misuse of knowledge. Progress in many fields is creating ethical
dilemmas for which we are intellectually, morally, and institutionally
ill equipped, as Robert Sinsheimer feared. And the advance of knowledge
in some fields will multiply possibilities for terrorists of all sorts,
including those acting in the name of our government while increasing
the possibilities of human errors of great consequence. The Bush Administration's
"war on terror" is creating new pressures to militarize science
and industry under a dense shroud of secrecy. The Pentagon already controls
roughly half the annual $75 billion federal research and development
budget, a fraction that will certainly increase under the claim of national
security and the drive to militarize space and thereby further extend
U.S. hegemony.
Science is the most
powerful and problematic of human endeavors. In the past, we have focused
mostly on its power and promise, not on its perils. And in the golden
age of science, from Galileo to the onset of Nazi science, this was
understandable, perhaps justifiable. But we live now in changed circumstances
foreseen in Mary Shelley's Dr. Frankenstein or Herman Melville's Ahab
in Moby Dick . Science has grown in power and scope without a commensurate
refinement in our collective judgment about its proper uses or limits,
hence with little improvement in our capacity to foresee and forestall
knowledge deleterious to humankind and even to science. But we ought
now to reckon seriously with the responsible acquisition and use of
knowledge for reasons Shelley portrayed and because of our capacity
for collective obsessions of the sort Melville described. Doing so would
require us to think more deeply about science and to question the relationships
between science and democracy, law, and accountability. To this end
I offer the following observations.
First, the relationship
between knowledge and ignorance is not zero sum. The faith in the power
of reason that we inherited from the Enlightenment carries with it an
increasing burden of irony. The fact is that the advance of science,
conducted in the faith that reason would render cause and effect transparent
and the world more controllable, has in fact created a vastly complicated
world of things, materials, systems, ecological effects, and feedback
loops at different scales and time horizons in which cause and effect
are becoming harder to discern and the possibilities of control (at
least on a large scale) ever more remote. Every scientific discovery
expands the domain of knowledge but also expands the interface of the
known with the unknown, which is to say it generates yet more questions,
some of which we will fail to ask or to ask in time to avoid serious
problems (e.g., the effects of chlorofluorocarbons on the ozone layer).
Second, science
is neutral only at the level of methods and not at the higher level
at which problems are selected and fields defined. That higher level
is determined by values, politics, funding, and what Thomas Kuhn once
described as paradigms agreed-upon methods of research, problems, and
frameworks which in turn are products of culture, psychology, and political
power.
Third, from the
public's view, the actual practice of science is increasingly remote
and esoteric, yet its effects are increasingly pervasive and intrusive.
Its relation to the public resembles in some ways the relation of theology
delivered by the Papacy in Latin to the illiterate masses of the Middle
Ages.
Fourth, in matters
of knowledge, motive counts. The difference between research carried
out in the spirit of, say, Barbara McClintock's "feeling for the
organism" and that motivated by commercially driven curiosity is
not trivial. One may lead to reverence, the other more likely to the
clever manipulation of nature or even to sacrilege.
Finally, the unintended
ecological, social, and economic consequences of the advance of science
increasingly set the rights of free inquiry against those of the public
and future generations to safety, health, security, well-being, dignity,
and to a full and unmutilated humanity. Much as Sinsheimer feared, the
results of unfettered inquiry may lead to increasingly consequential
and irreversible results. It would be foolish, I think, to assume otherwise.
From this perspective,
what can be done to redeem the potential of science for human betterment
as once envisioned in the Enlightenment? One response is to insist on
"principled vigilance" by scientists. British historian John
Cornwell (2003:462), for example, describes the "good scientist"
in these terms: He (or she) "does not place dangerous knowledge
or techniques into the hands of the untrustworthy attempts to publicize
by any means possible the social and environmental consequences of potentially
dangerous knowledge [and] rejects the use of people as instruments."
At the same time he notes forces that work at cross-purposes, such as
"The Faustian bargains [that] lurk within routine grant applications,
the pressure to publish for the sake of tenure and the department's
budget, the treatment of knowledge and discovery as a commodity that
can be owned, bought, and sold."
There can be no
good argument against the importance of sound judgment and robust ethical
sensitivity exercised by individual scientists. Although necessary,
however, such qualities are insufficient given the limits of human nature
and individual perception and the magnitude of the problem.
A second response
is to improve science education in schools and colleges in order to
create a scientifically literate public. Seldom do such admonitions
go beyond proposing more basic science in the curriculum to the larger
goal of equipping the public to think rationally and skeptically about
the directions of science itself or the uses to which it is put. The
result is often a kind of gee-whiz level of knowledge aimed to create
broad but uncritical support for big science and a deeper state of public
torpor without empowering people to ask serious questions. In matters
of education, scientific literacy ought to be regarded as a means of
equipping the public with the capacity to think critically about science
itself.
A third, and related,
response requires creating mechanisms that enable a scientifically literate
public to participate in setting priorities for publicly funded research
and development. Would a discerning public, for instance, agree to pay
for the science necessary to militarize space or that necessary to pursue
adventures on the planet Mars, or even the Human Genome Project? To
pose such questions highlights the fact that we presently have few good
mechanisms by which to connect civic life and public debate with choices
about research goals. This disconnection can only undermine democracy
and eventually public support for science itself. The counterargument
that the public can never know enough to make good choices about complex
scientific issues is both self-serving and dubious in light of the many
examples from our own and European experience in which the public has
participated constructively in making choices about the directions of
science and its application ( Sclove 1995 :197-328). The problem is
not public stupidity, lack of interest, or even the difficulty of the
problem, so much as a failure of the political imagination required
to forge innovative democratic institutions for changed circumstances.
This leads to a
fourth response. There is a widening gulf between what is deemed "cutting
edge" science and real human needs. We know enough to say with
assurance that the intersection of climate change, biotic impoverishment,
ecosystem decline, and poverty are sweeping us toward what is at best
a highly undesirable future. We know, too, that the escalating dynamic
among a fossil fuel-driven U.S. economic hegemony, terrorism, and militarization
is diverting attention and critical resources from the effort to deal
with the causes of our problems. We also know enough to say that the
powers of science accordingly ought to be redirected with all deliberate
speed from the trivial and even dangerous toward the knowledge necessary
to
- make a rapid transition
from fossil fuels to solar energy;
- provide healthcare
for everyone on Earth;
- establish sustainable
agriculture systems;
- build low-cost,
high-performance shelter;
- restore degraded
ecosystems;
- preserve species
and ecologies; and
- develop economies
that work with, not against, natural systems.
The original promise
of science was to harness the power of reason and knowledge to the improvement
of the human condition and to progress broadly defined. That noble vision
has been whittled down to fit ignoble ends and, worse, corrupted to
purposes that undermine human dignity and the human prospect. The redemption
of science is nothing less than the effort to reclaim a human future
directed by a more rational rationality, a more scientific science,
and a vision that we are indeed capable of rising above illusion, ill
will, and greed.
DAVID W. ORR Environmental
Studies, Oberlin College, Oberlin, OH 44074, U.S.A., email david. [email protected]
Literature Cited
- Cornwell, J. 2003.
Hitler's scientists . Viking, New York.
- Monbiot, G. 2004.
The corporate stooges who nobble serious science. Manchester Guardian
24 February (available from
http:/
/www.guardian.co.uk/ comment/ story/ 0,3604,1154585,00.html
) (accessed May 2004).
- Sclove, R., 1995.
Democracy and technology . Guilford Press, New York.
- Sinsheimer, R.
1978. The presumptions of science. Daedalus 107 (2): 23-36. - Union
of Concerned Scientists (UCS). 2004. Scientific integrity in policymaking
. UCS, Cambridge, Massachusetts.