What Are the Science Wars Really About?

By Dorothy Nelkin
JULY 26, 1996
During the last few years, an academic skirmish has turned into the public spectacle known
as the “science wars.” A surprising number of scientists are attacking the work of social
scientists and humanists who view science as an activity influenced by social, cultural, and
political forces. Holding the line against the so-called “flight from science and reason,” angry
books and conferences have pilloried the scholars who study science as “science bashers”
and “self-deluded ideologues.” In 1994, some scientists objected to a Smithsonian Institution
exhibition on the costs and benefits of “Science in American Life” as too critical of science.
And now the physicist Alan D. Sokal is being lauded by his colleagues for publishing an
apparently serious article that was really a spoof of the alleged obfuscation of science by
postmodernists.

In the past, scientists have been notoriously reluctant to mobilize against influential groups
perceived as anti-science, including creationists who challenge the teaching of evolution and
animal-rights activists who object to using animals in experiments. Why are scientists now so
eager to attack the social scientists and humanists who study their work? What are these
science wars really about?

The scholarly foibles of the humanities and the social sciences hardly seem likely catalysts
for war. Nor are the science wars about the power of humanists: After all, science-studies
scholars (as those in the humanities and social sciences who study science sometimes call
themselves) are not really capable of seriously jeopardizing the scientific enterprise. There is
no evidence that they are responsible for threatened Congressional reductions in financial
support for science. They are busy fighting their own battles with Congress to preserve the
National Endowment for the Humanities and money for the social sciences in the National
Science Foundation. The thought that they might have the clout to affect science policy
seems ludicrous, indeed.

I believe that the moral outrage of scientists stems from changes occurring in the field of
science itself and in its relationship to sources of financial support. Many scientists seem to
believe that their status in society is at risk -- and they are looking for someone to blame. On
the premise that what was good for science was good for the public, government policies
after World War II provided federal support for research with minimal government oversight.
Scientists were expected to work in the interest of progress and effectively to control the
production of research and the behavior of their colleagues through the peer-review system.
In return, the government would provide research support unfettered by requirements for
public accountability. Given the normal strings attached to government funds, this
arrangement was unusual. It reflected the public image of scientists as apolitical, objective,
and therefore trustworthy. Policy analysts often described this relationship between science
and society as a “marriage,” implying shared assumptions and mutual trust.

Under these conditions, science flourished in the decades after World War II, and scientists
took their autonomy for granted as their due. In the 1990s, however, the terms of mutual
understanding appear increasingly obsolete, and the harmony that characterized the
long-standing partnership between science and government has deteriorated. Each side has
failed to meet its side of the bargain: Government has threatened to cut back its support for
science, while scientists are facing problems of self-regulation.

The strains on federal support for science are the result of social and political changes,
including the end of the Cold War with its attendant federal cutbacks in defense-related
research, and the growth of the national deficit. Even more important, the extraordinary
optimism about the future of science has begun to dissipate; concerns about its social
impact are growing, along with general doubts about the value of scientific progress.

For their part, scientists have not lived up to their promise to regulate themselves. It has
become increasingly difficult for journal editors and professional associations to maintain
control over the research practices of the large number of scientists who work in
ever-more-specialized fields. In a climate of intense competition for patents and research
funds, incidents of fraud, falsification of scientific evidence, and misconduct have
proliferated. Widely reported, they have undermined scientists’ credibility. So, too, have
reports of ethical violations in research involving human subjects. An investigation this year
by the U.S. Department of Energy revealed widespread scientific complicity -- over many
years -- in dubious experiments that used inadequate safety precautions to protect human
subjects. The investigation found that many scientists had failed to obtain the informed
consent of people involved in experiments.

The extent of these problems is much debated, but it is clear that they have undermined
public trust in scientists and scientific institutions. Repeated exposes have eroded the moral
authority of science.

Perhaps most important, scientists are increasingly supported -- and influenced -- by

corporate interests. As federal research support becomes more unreliable, many scientists
are shifting their priorities to commercially profitable research devoted to the solution of
short-term problems, with immediate applications, such as the development of genetic tests
for common diseases and the creation of bioengineered agricultural products. This is
especially true in molecular biology, where university-based scientists often serve as officers
or consultants in biotechnology firms. The image of science as driven by pure intellectual
curiosity has been clouded, leaving the public with the impression that scientific information
is less a public resource (the assumption on which scientific autonomy has rested since
World War II) than a private commodity to fill the coffers of companies and commercial
laboratories.

Scientists worry that their tarnished public image will make it harder for them to raise money,
exacerbating a tightened job market. According to the American Chemical Society, “suitable
permanent employment” is not easily available for about 250 of the roughly 2,100 people
who receive Ph.D.'s in chemistry each year. This situation reflects many social and economic
forces. The least of these may be cultural analyses of science, but that is what scientists are
blaming. Perhaps even more dismaying to them is the erosion of their traditional autonomy,
as Congress takes a growing interest in scientific affairs -- setting up special committees, for
example, to investigate research fraud.

Who, in fact, is to blame? Scientists want to make sure that it is not themselves. Hoping to
shape public attitudes toward science, they attack those who write about social and cultural
influences on research. The idea that social forces influence the questions that scientists
pursue, their interpretations of data, and the technological applications of their work hardly
seems revolutionary. But current theories about science do seem to call into question the
image of selfless scientific objectivity and to undermine scientific authority, at a time when
scientists want to reclaim their lost innocence, to be perceived as pure, unsullied seekers
after truth. That is what the science wars are about.

How realistic is scientists’ view of the science wars? Have they lost perspective about their
status in society? After all, they are hardly in the position of welfare mothers, artists, or other
needy groups who face seriously reduced federal and state support. It is true that scientists
are subject to more public scrutiny than before, but they still enjoy considerable public
respect and support. It is also true that some “big science” projects, such as the
Superconducting Supercollider, have been cut, but the federal government still spends
billions of dollars to support scientific research. Moreover, surveys consistently show that,
despite a general lack of science literacy, the public is convinced of the overall value of
science. And the role of science as a model of rationality in human affairs is not really in
question. Indeed, most historians and sociologists who study science validate the credibility
of their work in terms of scientific standards of rigorous methodology and peer review.

Ironically, in their attack on science-studies scholars, scientists will win some battles, but
they may lose the war. By engaging in polemics against all who question science, scientists
are polarizing academe and discouraging reasoned public discussion of science. By
defending themselves so adamantly against outside critiques, they are encouraging a public
image of their profession as arrogant and answerable to no one. By closing ranks, they
appear to be just another self-protective special-interest group.

So perhaps scientists should re-evaluate their perceived enemies. Attacking fellow

academics who pose little threat to science is a strategic mistake. Scientists are forcing
thoughtful scholars who are more their allies than their enemies to take sides in a
manufactured conflict: the science wars.

At a time when academic institutions are under siege from lawmakers and the public,
scientists should ask themselves whether dividing the academy into warring factions is a
productive strategy. With the public already questioning some of science’s ethical standards
and actions, any success that scientists have in tearing down the ideas and activities of
other researchers is more likely to result in reduced support for everyone in academe -- not
just the targets of their wrath.

Dorothy Nelkin is a University Professor at New York University who teaches in its
department of sociology and School of Law.

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