In 1992, be it resolved that scientists…

In 1992, be it resolved that scientists…

Photo by Antonio Gabola on Unsplash

Originally published 30 December 1991

I’ve nev­er been one for New Year’s res­o­lu­tions. The few times I’ve deter­mined to change bad habits my resolve has dis­solved some­time around the mid­dle of the first week of Jan­u­ary. Oh, well, nev­er mind, there’s always next year.

So how about some New Year’s res­o­lu­tions for sci­ence instead? Here are a few things sci­en­tists can do to make sci­ence a lean­er, health­i­er, more con­struc­tive affair. Like most New Year’s Res­o­lu­tions, they are eas­i­er to resolve than accomplish.

  1. Don’t become addict­ed to gov­ern­ment pork. Sci­ence requires and deserves gen­er­ous nation­al sup­port, and the nation’s eco­nom­ic well-being depends upon a vital sci­en­tif­ic estab­lish­ment. The risk is that sci­ence becomes a politi­cized branch of the gov­ern­ment bureaucracy.
  2. Be cau­tious about com­mit­ments to “state-of-the-art” instru­ments that take years to become oper­a­tional. Con­sid­er the ill-fat­ed Hub­ble Space Tele­scope. We would prob­a­bly have been bet­ter off to have packed a Shut­tle with dol­lar bills and dumped them into space. Dur­ing the time it took to get the Hub­ble up and oper­at­ing, ground based astronomers devel­oped new tech­nolo­gies that ren­der the big space tele­scope at least part­ly obso­lete; in par­tic­u­lar, astronomers have learned how to use com­put­ers and deformable mir­rors to com­pen­sate for dis­tort­ing effects of the earth­’s atmos­phere, at far less cost than going into space. Advances in tech­nol­o­gy come so quick­ly these days that any­thing that takes ten years to do is like­ly to be out-of-date by the time it gets done.
  3. Cast a skep­ti­cal eye on any exper­i­ment or project that costs more than a new uni­ver­si­ty or a dozen hos­pi­tals. The super­con­duct­ing super­col­lid­er, an ultra-high-ener­gy par­ti­cle accel­er­at­ing machine to be built in Texas at a cost of bil­lions, should only go for­ward if financed by an inter­na­tion­al con­sor­tium. Big sci­ence has glam­our, but it’s not nec­es­sar­i­ly in the best pub­lic inter­est. Putting all our research eggs in a few big bas­kets isn’t in the best inter­est of sci­ence, either. It’s unfor­tu­nate that cold fusion turned out to be a bust; the pro­duc­tion of fusion ener­gy with kitchen-shelf equip­ment would have giv­en advo­cates of small sci­ence a much need­ed boost.
  4. Don’t get caught up on the fund­ing tread­mill. Some­times it seems that sci­en­tists spend more time solic­it­ing grants than doing sci­ence. A lot of first-rate sci­ence has been done using string and scotch tape, or scrib­bled on the backs of envelopes. A lot of poor sci­ence has been done with brand-new mul­ti­mil­lion-dol­lar state-of-the-art com­put­er­ized MacroWid­gets. Nat­u­ral­ly, every­body wants to own the biggest and shini­est new instru­ment in town, but the brain is still the best tool for fig­ur­ing out how the world works — and it’s free.
  5. Curb the pub­li­ca­tions glut. The amount of words being pub­lished in sci­en­tif­ic jour­nals threat­ens to bring the shelves of libraries crash­ing down. We have estab­lished a sys­tem in which the num­ber of words a sci­en­tist pub­lish­es is equat­ed with suc­cess. Much of what is pub­lished is triv­ial, neg­li­gi­ble, or redun­dant. Accord­ing to one study, the major­i­ty of pub­lished sci­en­tif­ic work is nev­er ref­er­enced by sub­se­quent researchers, and there­fore pre­sum­ably makes a neg­li­gi­ble con­tri­bu­tion on the progress of knowledge.
  6. Quit com­pet­ing. A mod­est com­pet­i­tive ele­ment can put a con­struc­tive edge on any activ­i­ty, but in sci­ence com­pe­ti­tion has got­ten out of hand. Cut­throat rival­ries pre­vail espe­cial­ly in the bio­med­ical sci­ences. Intense pres­sure to “get there furstest with the mostest” (as Con­fed­er­ate Gen­er­al Nathan Bed­ford For­rest used to say) has led again and again to mis­con­duct and out­right fraud. There’s no sur­er way for sci­ence to lose pub­lic con­fi­dence than to come on like a gang of crooks.
  7. Laugh. Sci­en­tists would seem to be the most humor­less folks on earth. Even politi­cians have more wit. A few years ago I attend­ed a meet­ing of the Amer­i­can Asso­ci­a­tion for the Advance­ment of Sci­ence devot­ed to “Humor in Sci­ence”—and prompt­ly fell asleep. Ho-ho-hum. The Jour­nal of Irre­pro­ducible Results has been strug­gling game­ly for years to inject a bit of wit into sci­ence, with neg­li­gi­ble suc­cess. It would seem that the gene for sci­en­tif­ic tal­ent also selects for an atro­phied fun­ny bone.
  8. Become gen­der blind. Nine­ty-eight per­cent of nurs­es are women, but only 8 per­cent of sur­geons and 2 per­cent of med­ical school depart­ment chair­per­sons. Female doc­tors earn only 62.8 per­cent of what male doc­tors earn. The phys­i­cal sci­ences are even more exclu­sive­ly male clubs. Gen­der bias in sci­ence is an unas­sail­able fact and sci­ence is poor­er for it.
  9. Reach out to school chil­dren and teach­ers. Bring them into the labs. Ini­ti­ate coop­er­a­tive pro­grams. Share the excite­ment. We are becom­ing a nation of sci­ence illit­er­ates, with even a pres­i­dent con­sult­ing astrologers on mat­ters of state. Sci­ence is not so much a col­lec­tion of truths as an atti­tude toward evi­dence. Amer­i­ca’s future as a pros­per­ous and demo­c­ra­t­ic nation requires that the next gen­er­a­tion of Amer­i­cans be skep­ti­cal, curi­ous, inven­tive, and open to change — in a word, scientific.
  10. Don’t be afraid to occa­sion­al­ly turn off the Macrowid­get and go for a walk. Take time to smell the ros­es and look at the stars. Sci­ence is only worth doing if it enhances the qual­i­ty of life.
Share this Musing: