As the controversy over the safety of genetically modified crops has demonstrated, commercial clients evaluate the products of their investment in terms not of their contribution to knowledge but of commercial value. But as much research is conducted through university departments, what happens when business interests conflict with central tenets of academic inquiry?
Oxford, Cambridge and Imperial College, and many post-1992 universities, have not hesitated to embrace industrial sponsors. Drug, defence and high-tech companies purchase expertise from universities on strict terms of confidentiality. Outcomes are often commercially sensitive and affect share price and company futures.
Academics and PhD students financed by industry find their hands tied and their integrity compromised. Early campaigners against organo-phosphorous sprays and sheep dips were unable to identify toxicologists willing to give advice — as all had, or hoped to have, research connections with pesticide manufacturers. Commercial imperatives constrain the integrity of science and scholarship.
The University of Toronto not only dismissed Dr Nancy Olivieri for disseminating her finding that her sponsor Apotex’s drug had unforeseen risks — she was later reinstated after academic protests — but also withdrew the offer of a post to David Healy for querying the safety of Prozac. At the London School of Economics, Thanos Mergoupis and his research assistant lost their jobs when the school failed to enforce its £250 000 contract with the World Travel and Tourism Council, which withdrew after seeing an interim report on his findings.
The credibility of university science and the professional standing of research institutes depend crucially on the academic’s ability to establish that the research has adhered to the exacting standards of independent scientific inquiry, of objectivity and of integrity, and that this process has been safeguarded by peer review and publication.
Responses to commercial pressures can present a significant risk for institutions otherwise respected for their disinterested pursuit of knowledge.
Academic research showed that wine has a favourable impact on coronary heart disease, that garlic tablets help to prevent hardening of the arteries, that moderate consumption of olive oil might reduce some of the risks associated with passive smoking. How does it affect confidence in the results when they were acknowledged to have been underwritten by wineries, manufacturers of garlic tablets and olive oil producers?
Revelations of the commercial support for some researchers undermines the credibility of others. The finding by Jill Warner of Southampton University that carpets in the home increased the risk of asthma was criticised by her peers and the media when it became clear (apparently to the surprise of the researcher) that it was funded by a group that had received money from a consultancy firm which had, in turn, received money from makers of wooden floors.
Academic staff we interviewed are very concerned. Most, perhaps out of loyalty to their institution, asked to remain anonymous. But they asked: shouldn’t universities vet all individual research projects and investments and the funding of infrastructure? Are there any sources our university would prohibit? Why would an academic do research that could not be published? Should a university accept substantial funds without consulting its employees and students? What impact will the commercialisation of research have on the dissemination of information and the cooperation between departments in universities?
Should it not be an integral part of all contracts to protect the right of all staff and students to publish and disseminate findings with serious consequences for the general public? But shouldn’t academic freedom outweigh other considerations when seeking funding for research?
Since some faculties find it easier to engage with customers than others do, the availability of wealthy sponsors transforms the institution. One social policy expert wondered “whether or not the acceptance of large sums from these sources distorts patterns of recognition within the university so that research which is not able to secure such sums becomes devalued and marginalised”.
According to some, research councils encourage openness: “The aims of the research agenda funded by research councils are more clearly understood, more transparent, [than commercial funders], as researchers, policymakers, and to a lesser extent the public, have a role in determining the agenda.”
But others thought the councils were partly to blame for the reliance on commercial funding because “research councils too are prone to set preferred agenda, and to work through large-scale funding, which reduces the autonomy of individual researchers, and limits their funding opportunities”.
The editors of the world’s most prestigious medical journals are taking the lead in establishing a policy of rejecting drug-company-sponsored studies that do not guarantee scientific independence to researchers or supply them with all the data.
The international oil, pharmaceutical and tobacco corporations are queuing with press barons to invest in universities. Other “philanthropists” with even more dubious motives may be waiting in the wings. The Missenden Code of Practice has been launched to assist institutions to make a circumspect response. —