Scientific knowledge lives a contradictory life: it is both a source of human enlightenment and, ironically, the bane of human civilisation.
Its propensity for evil and good — and given its far-reaching influence over human society — makes it necessary for there to be collective oversight of the scientific community.
The credibility and authority of scientific opinion is too readily accepted by the public without contest or critical evaluation. Science as it were cannot tell any lies — with so much indoctrination about its objectivity it is no wonder we fear being labelled blasphemers.
But what has been missing from science is not truth. Rather, the problem is the ethical disposition of scientists with commercial or political interests who latch on to every last vestige of scientific opinion so long as it proves their case. Economic reward, media attention and even the competition for status in high society has the tendency to provoke moral lapse.
The truth value of science ultimately rests on the ethical orientation of its possessor. This moral imperative, as the philosopher Kant would call it, seems consistently amiss among many producers of knowledge.
Science, like all forms of knowledge, relies on human interpretation, skill in observation, intuition and creative puzzle-solving. The opportunity for “slippage”, predilection for bias, errors in observation and analysis has resulted in the scientific community establishing “self-policing” corrective measures, such as extensive peer review. Scientific authority is a result of our trust and latent confidence in the rigour of the peer review system. The system though, is not without error, as is shown by the history of some prominent scientific frauds.
The system of peer review is also under strain because of conflict of interests that scientists, as individuals or institutions, carry with them in the process of verification and authentication of scientific knowledge. Coincidentally, this is a subject of an interesting book by Sheldon Krimsky that explores the effect of private interest in corrupting biomedical research.
Krimsky’s main thread is that universities, as an example, have merely become instruments for creating wealth and are increasingly losing sight of their social responsibility.
Over the past two decades private investment in science has increased dramatically. And in some areas private capital outstrips funds from the public sector. As a result, it is natural that commercial priorities will dictate the type of research being done. A natural tension arises between public interest and the call of commerce.
This in itself may not be a problem. However, when the benefits accrue to only a few rather than to the broader public, public-private partnerships face a legitimacy crisis.
The intrusion of commerce has also been marked in a change of orientation and culture within the scientific community. There is increased professional protectionism because of the intrinsic need of commerce for non-disclosure of what is construed as commercially valuable knowledge. This has resulted in a perverse culture of individualism and professional competition. Scientists also face punitive consequences if they do not comply with conditions set by their commercial partners.
We are also witness to a breakdown of the key principles of science: the culture of sharing and giving because of propriety issues. The intellectual property (IP) frenzy constrains further innovation because of the transaction cost involved in negotiating the use of knowledge that is IP protected.
Finally, it is not unusual to find the emergence of the “revolving door syndrome”. In the case of genetically modified organisms (GMOs), eminent scientists are one day found to be giving advice to government regulatory bodies about the effects of GMOs on health and the environment, and the next day these same scientists are the recipients of generous grants from the very corporates seeking regulatory approval for field trials or the commercial release of their products.
It is ironic that scientists do not see the inherent conflict of interest — for, as they argue, on the one hand they do “objective” science and, on the other, merely provide a scientific service.
The debate around GMOs — which is also about the future of biotechnology — is illustrative of the kinds of threats facing the scientific enterprise and the credibility of the institution as a whole.
However, the benefits of science, and the increased dispersion of technology, suggest the scope of responsible utility of scientific products has to draw in a wider set of opinions to better judge the beneficial impacts for society as a whole. The effects on society cannot be judged on the basis of scientific opinion alone, but requires the benefit and judgement of sociological, philosophical, and economic understanding.
The need for public trust in the institution of science can only be built with a greater democratisation of science as an institution. Oversight by society is needed more now than ever — given the blistering confusion that surrounds what and whom we are capable of believing in these days.
Saliem Fakir is director, World Conservation Union — South Africa office