The paradox of our time is that though science is spectacularly successful in delivering a better way of life, it has also caused frustration by appearing elitist, thereby fuelling populism.
What we need is better science education at all levels to make clear why the scientific process is so effective in delivering government policy that works – not by dictating to elected officials but by presenting workable options.
Whether in the medical, environmental, agricultural or social fields, science’s secret for success is not only that it is based on evidence carefully collected under conditions that are as controlled as possible. It is also its insistence that, to counter the personal biases of us all, the results must be repeatable in public. Scientific journals play an important part in that, though they need to sharpen their act.
By contrast, decisions based on guesswork or, worse, acts of political faith are fundamentally biased and, except by chance, are unlikely to work.
Historically, the most serious example was when Stalin and Mao embraced Lysenkoist agronomy in the 1950s because it was based on a theory that acquired traits were inherited: a picture more in line than Mendelian genetics was with the communist dogma that represented all as equal, with the possibility of acquired improvements.
Lysenko expected agricultural crops to acquire high productivity traits rapidly under pressure. When they did not there was famine; millions died. This disastrous embrace of pseudoscience was the start of the downfall of communism, when Western intellectuals who had seen some merit in equality for all realised that the distribution of power to the people also created opportunities for one or a few to take over in autocracies and develop antisocial policies.
Genuine science is the better route for public policy. But there is a distinction to be made between the facts learned from the scientific process and what we do about them. To suggest that science provides preferences, as opposed merely to evidence, is to politicise it.
Some Western scientists in the 1970s, for example, embraced environmental advocacy. Marine biologist Rachel Carson advocated for banning pesticides, particularly DDT; the Washington University in St Louis plant physiologist Barry Commoner campaigned to ban synthetic industrial products such as plastics; Stanford University population biologist Paul Ehrlich urged human population controls.
It is not that their science turned out to be wrong, but it did not necessarily lead to the policy conclusions that they favoured. There is a public debate to be had about the benefits of DDT in combating malaria, of plastics in medical devices and packaging, and of rising populations on economic productivity. The outcome of those debates should reflect the preferences of the public affected rather than those of scientists.
But even scientists are not always clear about this distinction, and most of the public certainly aren’t. At least prior to the current populist upheaval, many perceived a de facto technocracy to be in operation – and that turned them off.
To make sure that science delivers for democracy, there needs to be better understanding of what science can and cannot do through better science education – focusing on the general features of delivery, not just on the specific outcomes of the individual sciences.
High-school science education is making progress in the US. A recent review of science standards from K through 12th grade recognises the importance of developing science literacy with one important dimension focused on the practices of science. Implementation will be the challenge.
On the other hand, colleges and universities in the US, UK and EU are tardier. Here, subject-area siloes, in the form of faculties/colleges and departments, often obscure cross-cutting themes that are so important for delivery. One argument is that this does not matter; paying attention to high schools and lower schools, which everybody attends, is the more effective route. But there is no reason why these should be mutually exclusive.
Furthermore, there are a couple of good reasons for focusing on higher education. First, the political climate is such that change is needed with some urgency, and new graduates are more likely to deliver more quickly. Moreover, there are the beginnings of a new discipline here: science for society, which invites not only teaching but also research programmes. These are something that only institutes of higher education can provide.
How the programme is manifested will depend on the institution but, given the aim, there ought to be an attempt to make it at least available (possibly mandatory) for all students across the arts and sciences. The classes will require inspired teaching to make the science process and its connection to public policy come alive for students with different backgrounds (as will also be required in lower schools). Science for society “departments” will have a pedagogic and research role here. The national academies should also be taking a lead in encouraging higher education institutions to be more involved in this broader scientific education.
Change of this magnitude will be difficult. But there is no future in the current post-truth age. Science in society education is the only way forward if we want to secure democracy and continue to live in a society where public policy at least has a fighting chance of solving the problems it identifies.
Peter Calow is a professor in the Humphrey School of Public Affairs at the University of Minnesota. He is also author of the recently published e-book Science in Public Policy for the Public.
Register to continue
Why register?
- Registration is free and only takes a moment
- Once registered, you can read 3 articles a month
- Sign up for our newsletter
Subscribe
Or subscribe for unlimited access to:
- Unlimited access to news, views, insights & reviews
- Digital editions
- Digital access to THE’s university and college rankings analysis
Already registered or a current subscriber?







