Well, as promised, the realities of being a graduate student caught up with me. I’ve spent the last academic year taking classes, and doing research, and taking classes, and giving presentations, and taking classes, and writing grants, and oh, did I mention I was taking classes? So, as predicted, this blog has been silent. But summer has now arrived, and I can (hopefully) now devote time to other endeavors, and so I bring you a new post!
As I sit here, in May of 2022, there is certainly a lot going on. Ukraine, Roe v. Wade, Buffalo, midterms, and Elon Musk, are all consuming the headlines. And so, in recognition of all these important news stories, I will be discussing none of them. Instead, I want to write about something that I have been thinking about a lot, and that was recently crystallized for me while watching a discussion panel.
Deus Ex Laboratoria
Can science save us? Can science, and the technological progress it creates, save humanity from the ravages of disease/famine/war/time/insert-the-thing-that-keeps-you-up-at-nigh-here? This is a question that has been posed numerous times throughout the last few centuries, in numerous different forms. Every time this question is asked it is usually answered with some form of, “Yes, but that’s not the whole story.” Generally, it is accepted that while science can do wonderful things, scientific innovation by itself is not enough to actually address our social ills. The appropriate implementation of those innovations is just as important.
This mindset towards the role of science can be traced back (at least) nearly 100 years in the United States, to Vannevar Bush, generally considered to be the father of modern science policy. During World War II, Bush was the head of the Office of Scientific Research and Development, a government agency established by President Roosevelt to oversee scientific research with military applications. As the war came to end, President Roosevelt asked Bush to give him a report on the status of scientific research in the United States. That report, Science, The Endless Frontier laid out the principles that to this day guide how the US government funds scientific research.
In The Endless Frontier, Bush very clearly articulates his view of science’s role in society. He says, “Science, by itself, provides no panacea for individual, social, and economic ills. It can be effective in the national welfare only as a member of a team…But without scientific progress no amount of achievement in other directions can insure our health, prosperity, and security as a nation.” This idea, that science cannot “by itself” solve our problems, is still pervasive throughout US funding agencies today. In fact, anyone who has ever submitted a grant to the National Science Foundation knows that they require you to explain the “Broader Impacts” of your work to society at large.
Science, by itself, provides no panacea
Vannevar Bush – Science, The Endless Frontier
Yet, despite the fact that this view is pervasive among science funding agencies, you will sometimes encounter a very different view among actual scientists. Now, of course there are many scientists who do understand that science must work in concert with other forces and institutions, and who work very hard to expand that view. But one can still find individuals who believe that anything other than “pure” science, is a waste of time and effort. For instance, ever since I started engaging with science policy, I have met a variety of well-respected members of my field who have described science policy as “cute” or “a fluff project”. I was even once told that pursuing science policy meant that I wasn’t going to be a “real scientist” and thus I wasn’t worth their time.
Although this is far from the dominant view, it is still quite pervasive. And unfortunately, there are some very prominent scientists who espouse this mindset.
The Importance of Buy-In
I was recently confronted with this mindset once again while watching a discussion panel that included some of the top astronomers in the country. The topic of the panel was the search for extraterrestrial life and was meant to summarize some of the big unanswered questions in this field of study. Part way through the discussion, the topic turned to the question: “How will we agree on what to do if we ever do find signs of alien life?” Some of the panelists discussed the importance of getting in front of the narrative, combating disinformation, and trying to get as much global buy-in as possible when developing a plan of response.
At this point though, one particular astrophysicist (who actually has a history of promoting controversial views) jumped into the discussion and matter-of-factly proclaimed that this is not what’s important. That it is not about convincing people of what you have found, or getting them to believe your arguments, and that those questions are in fact “completely secondary”. This individual claimed that the only thing that mattered was “knowing what’s out there”, and that anything else is irrelevant. The age old “My facts don’t care about your opinions.”
Now while this is certainly true to some extent, it betrays a lack of understanding or appreciation for the greater role that politics and communication play in society. A fundamental truth is a fundamental truth, and that does not change regardless of whether people believe it, but how we respond to it, and the outcomes that result, are absolutely dependent on what people believe.
To see the devastating truth of this statement, we need look no further than the Covid pandemic. In a miraculous feat of scientific and technical achievement, we produced safe and effective vaccines against a deadly disease in less than a year. But, through a combination of various political and social forces, a third of the American public does not believe that the vaccines are worth taking. These people not believing that the vaccines are safe certainly didn’t make the vaccines any less effective, but it did lead to the death of nearly one million people. Similarly, the fact that 70% of Americans want to see action on climate change has not in and of itself prevented a wave of climate disasters.
It therefore does not require looking far to see very clearly how understanding an issue from a scientific perspective is not enough to address it. This is why it is surprising that there is still an entire class of scientists who believe that facts alone can win the day. In order to actually implement these discoveries, and create real changes, requires convincing people, having dialogues with stakeholder communities, building trust among the public, and driving a consensus for action in government and industry.
Ultimately, the mindset of “the facts are enough” is self-defeating. At a different point in that discussion panel, that same astrophysicist was lamenting the fact that the NASA budget is only a fraction of that of the US military. But that just highlights the problem! If you want to get funding, you need to convince the government and the public that it’s worth the investment. The politics and the communication are equally as important as the science!
Science and Culture
So, if this mindset is obviously flawed, why do so many scientists seem to hold it? There is probably a range of answers to this question, and it almost certainly differs from individual to individual.
For some, it is probably a simple lack of interest. Many people find the work of teaching, convincing, advocating, and lobbying to be exhausting, and they would just rather avoid it entirely. Others are likely cynical about the ability of the public to grasp scientific concepts, or about the ability of the government to effectively act on recommendations. This certainly doesn’t excuse the viewpoint, especially if you are actively undermining the efforts of others, but it is an understandable reaction. However, I also think that there is a deeper, much more systematic reason that is at play here. And that is the question of what do we value?
This reason was actually made very explicit, I think, during the discussion panel. After a bit, the conversation turned to the topic of some spacecraft, like Voyager, that we have sent outside of our solar system. One of these probes is New Horizons, a spacecraft that flew by Pluto and is now on its way out of the solar system. New Horizons in particular is carrying a very unique piece of cargo: a few grams of ashes of astronomer Clyde Tombaugh, Pluto’s discoverer. During this conversation, our astrophysicist friend was asked what they would like to say to any aliens that discover this memento. Their response? They would apologize to the aliens for wasting their time by sending something that conveys no information, in what they described as a “primitive” act that they thought was “embarrassing”.
I think that this response is indicative of this greater issue of values. It shows that this individual has a mindset where the only thing that they value is “truth”, with no understanding of the importance that culture and emotion have in our decision making and actions. It shows that they do not think of these things as being of equal value or weight to intellectual merit. Thus, it makes sense that they would have no appreciation for communication or politics, as these aren’t important enough in this mindset to be given the same attention as fact.
This is actually the same mindset that has led to a host of other problems within the astronomical community. Namely, around how the profession of astronomy interacts with Indigenous Peoples. This has of course been a long-standing issue throughout western society, but in the astronomy profession, this recently came to a head around the Thirty Meter Telescope in Hawai’i. Native Hawaiians, who have long been taken advantage of by the astronomical community, are protesting the construction of a new telescope on lands they consider to be sacred. This situation has arisen, in part, because of individuals who do not view considerations of culture and belief to be as important as questions of “fact” and “truth”.
Thankfully though, the greater astronomy community is beginning to realize that this is an issue. Over the last few months, both astronomy and planetary science released their decadal surveys. These reports are an extensive overview of the current research landscape and inform the course these disciplines will take over the next ten years. In each report, an entire chapter was dedicated to the State of the Profession, which discussed, among other things, the need to assert the importance of cultural understanding and two-way communication as professional values.
My hope is that these reports are indicative of a greater change in the scientific community. One that sees the old mindset of “facts above all else” wholly removed. A change that recognizes the importance of culture, communication, and politics, and fully embraces them. I am actually optimistic on this front. I have not met a single other graduate student, or really any early career individual, who doesn’t at least acknowledge the value of these forces. Furthermore, issues of Covid, climate change, and election lies have continued to highlight the urgent need to tackle disinformation, and the importance of scientists engaging with the public discourse in a respectful and meaningful way. These topics are being increasingly discussed, both within and outside of academia. I hope that this means we are on our way to being able to excise that group of the scientific community that does not recognize their value.
But, despite this hope, I will continue to work to try and raise this issue. Because, as we discussed, simply knowing about its importance, does not solve the problem. To again quote Vannevar Bush, “Science, by itself, provides no panacea.”