How Democratic Is Science Policy?

Who governs science and technology in a democracy? Can democracy and the world of science even be reconciled? In Governing Science and Technology in a Democracy (University of Tennessee Press, 1986), Malcolm L. Goggin, a political scientist and editor of the volume, presents viewpoints of a dozen professionals in science, law, philosophy and political science. The book is a collection of papers from a two-day conference in Houston in 1985. In this excerpt from the book, Goggin discusses four impediments to public participation in science policy and two proposals for ensuring better access of the public to the process of setting such policy. Despite its internal system of democratic self-government, science is one of those activities that lives by elite criteria, exercising claims to autonomy that are anathema to democrats. Democracy is more egalitarian than science, and even the United States' special brand of republican democracy was designed to prevent the concentration of power in the hands of any one interest or faction. This underlying tension between democracy and expertise has created problems for society, problems that, not surprisingly, are not easily resolved. How one proceeds from this point depends on whether or not the argument that there is a governance problem at all is credible, and whether the crisis of governance is due to too much or too little democracy. I am convinced that both science and society would be better off if the United States were to move in the direction of more, rather than less, public governance of science and technology. The question is: How can science and technology be governed more democratically? One answer is to remove some of the impediments to public participation in science and technology policy-making. There are at least four such impediments: an apathetic, scientifically illiterate citizenry, experts who believe in the republic of science, corporate capital that is shortsighted, and a university system that is losing its autonomy. First, lay members of the public have little influence over policy for science and technology because the vast majority are apathetic, unorganized, and scientifically and technologically illiterate. That most Americans are not actively involved in science and technology issue-resolution is well documented. There is evidence that a minority of interests governs most public policy domains, and there is no reason to believe that science and technology would be an exception to this rule. The "alienation breeds distrust" proposition helps explain why there are such low levels of participation in policy-making. In blaming the victim for her or his lack of participation, however, this explanation points to psychological barriers as conditioning, if not determining, political behavior. The cult of expertise, so goes this argument, conditions many members of the public to behave as spectators. Another more sinister explanation is a conspiracy theory: scientists and engineers use a variety of structural devices to protect their privileged positions. With their special knowledge and education, they mystify science and technology, rely heavily on technical jargon in communications, form exclusive professional associations, and use professional, specialized journals that are not widely circulated in order to communicate results. Those with expert knowledge and training are rewarded for these types of professional behaviors and discouraged from other, more public ones, via university and professional reward systems. The end result is a fairly narrow set of activities directed at a very limited audience. And this mystification process discourages public understanding of science and technology. Second, there is a powerful, organized, politically active community of experts that can mobilize its members when necessary. As part of their socialization into the profession, most accept what Michael Polyani has described as a "Republic of Science." Most agree that science and technology should be left to scientists and engineers. Although the ultimate power to determine research priorities rests with the public, laypersons usually delegate much of this responsibility to others. On many scientific and technical matters, much of the responsibility for making policy has been delegated to non-elected officials in the executive agencies. When it suits them, members of this group of scientists and technologists—and their non-credentialed allies in industry and the university—can use their power to discourage public participation, or at least to neutralize its effects. One of the best examples of the power of the scientific lobby was the concerted effort by scientists in 1977 to block legislation that would have institutionalized a public voice in making national policy for scientific research. In 1977, at the height of the rDNA debate, Sen. Edward Kennedy, in response to considerable public pressure, introduced legislation in the Senate to establish a "balanced" committee to oversee gene-splicing research. But as a result of organized lobbying on the part of scientists and technologists, his proposal was withdrawn. Third, corporate capital, in the form of major science-based industries that are rich in resources, seeks to maintain the system that relegates the majority of citizens to the sidelines in the policy-making game. Business interests fear a "tyranny of the majority." The story of what happened to Kennedy's proposal is typical of "interest groups' liberalism," a vulgarized form of pluralist theories of power in America. Another example of the influence of interest groups in the formation and implementation of technology policy is how Mary Lasker and her associates and Michael DeBakey influenced the course of the funding and development of the totally implantable artificial heart. Finally, a university that is, to use Ralph Nader's words, fast becoming "a vanguard of mercantilism," is a threat to democratic governance as well. The university's autonomy is threatened because of its heavy reliance for its future survival not only upon the genius of its faculty, student tuition, and alumni contributions, but also upon donations from government and industrialists. This autonomy, which is so vital to the nurturing of more and better citizen participation in science, is also in danger of being eroded by the commercialization of biology In biotechnology, the contract between science and society has been rewritten to include the industrialist as middleman. There is a real danger that, as happened with other new technologies, experts with commercial interests will promise more than can be delivered, or exaggerate potential benefits and minimize potential risks and harms. No solution to the crisis of governance can be found unless positive steps are taken to overcome psychological, ideological and structural barriers to public participation in the governing of science and technology. But these are merely preconditions, and say very little about the structure of the science policy-making apparatus and how it can be made to operate more democratically. There is considerable disagreement over where policy for science and technology should be made. Advocates for both centralization and decentralization claim that their respective governing scheme is superior—that it can maximize equity. It seems to me that a balanced system must be devised, one that takes into account the existing federal system, yet looks for new ways of tapping one of the country's major resources—human capital. One solution would be to go ahead with plans to create a Department of Science, and to give that institution the authority to centrally coordinate national policy for science and technology. Creating a cabinet-level Department of Science responds to the criticism that science and technology policy-making is fragmented and incoherent. It also addresses the problem of administrative inefficiency by creating an institution that would, through its planning and coordinating functions, help reduce redundancy and duplication. The new Department should be staffed with people who go well beyond the scientific and technological establishment. By recruiting managers who can speak for a broad range of interests who are importantly affected by science and technology, the Department can serve both science and democracy. But mechanisms of procedural democracy do not necessarily guarantee substantive democracy. One institutional arrangement for increasing the likelihood that science and technology would serve democracy is the Dutch "science shop," a loosely coupled organization of local scientists and engineers who volunteer their time to advise local residents on local problems that lend themselves to scientific or technological solutions. Usually attached to a university, this decentralized service-oriented institution is staffed by local professionals who are responding to local needs. It would be a valuable complement to the centralized Department of Science by providing an important community-based forum for debate of local issues, the results of which could be communicated to the Department of Science in Washington. In this way, the science shops would serve as a conduit for broadly based input from both experts and nonexperts. A network of science shops would also serve as a valuable means of involving large numbers of citizens in the science policy-making process, thus reducing scientific and technological illiteracy and restoring confidence in science and technology. Goggin's address is Department of Political Science, University of Houston, University Park, 4800 Calhoun Rd., Houston, TX 77004. Copyright © 1986 by the University of Tennessee Press.

How Democratic Is Science Policy?

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