Science – Page 116 – a sibilant intake of breath

Contemplating thesis structure

I have been thinking about thesis structure lately. The one with the most appeal right now is as follows. This is, naturally, a draft and subject to extensive revision.

Expertise and Legitimacy: the Role of Science in Global Environmental Policy-Making

Introduction
Stockholm and Kyoto: Case Studies
Practical consequences of science based policy-making
Theoretical and moral consequences
Conclusions

Introduction

The introduction would lay out why the question is important, as well as establishing the methodological and theoretical foundations of the work. The issue will be described as a triple dialogue with one portion internal to the scientific community, one existing as a dynamic between politicians and scientists, and one as the perspective on such fused institutions held by those under their influence. All three will be identified as interesting, but the scope of the thesis will be limited to the discussion of the first two – with the third bracketed for later analysis. The purpose of highlighting the connections between technical decision-making and choices with moral and political consequences will be highlighted.

Chapter One

In laying out the two case studies, I will initially provide some general background on each. I will then establish why the contrast between the two is methodologically useful. In essence, I see Stockholm as a fairly clear reflection of the idealized path from scientific knowledge to policy; Kyoto, on the other hand, highlights all the complexities of politics, morality, and distributive justice. The chapter will then discuss specific lessons that can be extracted from each case, insofar as the role of science in global environmental policy-making is concerned.

The Terry Fenge book is the best source on Stockholm, though others will obviously need to be cited. There is no lack of information on Kyoto. It is important to filter it well, and not get lost in the details.

Chapter Two

The second chapter will generalize from the two case studies to an examination of trends towards greater authority being granted to experts. It will take in discussion of the secondary literature, focusing on quantifiable trends such as the increased numbers of scientists and related technical experts working for international organizations, as well as within the foreign affairs branches of governments.

The practical implications of science in policy making have much to do with mechanisms for reaching consensus (or not) and then acting on it (or not). Practical differences in the reasoning styles and forms of truth seeking used by scientists and politicians will be discussed here.

Analysis of some relevant theses, both from Oxford (esp. Zukowska) and from British Columbia (esp. Johnson), will be split between this and the next chapter.

Chapter Three

Probably the most interesting chapter, the third is meant to address issues including the nature of science, its theoretical position vis a vis politics, and the dynamics of classifying decisions as technical (see this post). This chapter will include discussion of the Robinson Cruesoe analogy that Tristan raised in an earlier comment, as well as Allen Schmid’s article. Dobson’s book is also likely to prove useful here.

Conclusions

I haven’t decided on what these are to be yet. Hopefully, some measure of inspiration will strike me during the course of reading and thinking in upcoming months. Ideally, I would like to come up with a few useful conceptual tools for understanding the relationships central to this thesis. Even better, but unlikely, would be a more comprehensive framework of understanding, to arise on the basis of original thought and the extension of the ideas of others.

In laying all of this out, my aim is twofold. I want to decide what to include, and I want to sort out the order in which that can be done most logically and usefully. Comments on both, or on any other aspect of the project, are most welcome.

An environmental strike against Canada’s Tories

As Tristan discussed earlier, the National Post has been producing some dubious commentary on the ironically titled Clean Air Act being tabled by the current Conservative government in Canada. The paper says, in part:

Worryingly for the government, the impression has already taken hold that the Conservatives are not serious on the environment, and when [Environment Minister Rona] Ambrose says the Clean Air Act represents a “very ambitious agenda,” people smirk.

The smirking they describe is well deserved. The fact that every other party in government sees the real effect the so-called ‘Clean Air Act’ would have is not evidence of superficial thinking – as the Post asserts. The government that decided to simply walk away from Canada’s commitment to Kyoto is carrying on in past form.

Perhaps the biggest problem with the act is the way in which it confounds issues that are quite distinct. When it comes to the effect of human industry on the atmosphere, there are at least three very broad categories in which problematic emissions fit:

Toxins of some variety, whether in terms of their affect on animals or plants (this includes dioxins, PCBs, and smog)
Chemicals with an ozone depleting effect (especially CFCs)
Greenhouse gasses (especially CO2, but with important others)

In particular, by treating the first and third similarly, the government risks generating policy that does not deal with either well. The Globe and Mail, Canada’s more liberal national newspaper, argues that this approach may be intended to stymie action towards reduced emissions, by introducing new arguments about far less environmentally important issues than CO2.

It is possible to develop good environmental policies that are entirely in keeping with conservative political ideals. Market mechanisms have enormous promise as a means of encouraging individuals to constrain their behaviour such that it does not harm the welfare of the group. While market systems established so far, like the Emissions Trading Scheme in the EU, have failed to do much good, there is nothing to prevent a far-thinking conservative government from crafting a set of policies that will address the increasingly well understood problem of climate change, without abandoning their political integrity or alienating their base of support. To do so, in the case of the Harper Tories specifically, might help to convince Canadian voters that they really are the majority-deserving moderates they have been trying to portray themselves as being since they were handed their half-mandate by those disgusted by Liberal sleaze.

Roles of scientists

Partly motivated, perhaps, by frequent exposure to Hurrellean lists, I have been thinking about elements of the thesis in categorical terms. My head, therefore, is swimming with Venn Diagrams. Today’s ponderings have been about the roles played by scientists. I have come up with three headings:

Investigative
Deliberative
Regulatory

The first is their traditionally conceived role, with the latter two serving as necessary modulating adjuncts.

Investigative

This is your standard ‘scientist peering down a microscope / examining RADAR images / performing Fourier Transforms‘ role. Within it, there are components related to discovery and components related to refining existing hypotheses. This is true both when science is behaving as evolutionary gradualists would predict (slowly making LEDs brighter and more power efficient) and during periods of punctuated equilibrium (think of the development of quantum theory, explaining those LEDs, and of Kuhn).

When it comes to the environment, important scientific behaviours mostly have to do with studying interactions. How does the combination of GHG emissions and particular emissions affect mean global temperature? How does the evaporation rate of Lake Nasser affect the marine ecosystems of the Mediterranean?

Deliberative

The difference between deliberative and regulatory is partly akin to the difference between safety and security. Safety has to do with protecting against non-malicious risks. A lightning rod is a safety device – unless you believe in a vengeful deity. Security has to do with addressing threats from active attackers. The same distinction exists when it comes to scientific integrity. Someone might make an undetected experimental error and come up with data that is incorrect; some early satellite measurements of global temperature were like this. Someone else might be in the pocket of a group with a vested interest in denying climate change, and might thus be working with an experimental agenda of muddying the waters.

The deliberative role of scientists, in an ideal community, is a mechanism for dealing with non-malicious disagreement. Experiments that are outlying can be examined and replicated, the reasons for the unexpected results identified. Theories can be developed and debated in the face of evidence.

Unlike the investigative role, which can be performed perfectly well by lone scientists in igloos on Baffin Island, counting the amount of lichen per square metre outside, this role is fundamentally social. It strikes at the important distinction between science as a set of procedures and ideals, scientists as actors who try to apply them, and the scientific community as an epistemic grouping.

On a side note: it does seem possible for a scientist to be generally strong on the investigative side, but very weak on the deliberative side. Richard Dawkins comes immediately to mind. What is wrong with his positions is much less the empirical basis of most of his claims, and much more the structures of argumentation that he tries to use to assert them. For deliberation to be a useful exercise, it cannot be entirely self-confident and closed to alternative perspectives. It is also important for it to be aggressive in terms of analysis, not in terms of attacking people – an ugly trait that Professor Dawkins has revealed more and more as his anger overwhelms his judgement.

Regulatory

I see the regulatory role as being two-fold. The first part is akin to security, as discussed above. It is the process of trying to separate the quacks from those who have genuine reasons and data behind their position. This is naturally an imperfect process, but it is something that the scientific community must engage with if it is to remain a ‘community’ in any meaningful way. A meaningless community, by contrast, would be one with ties only on the basis of common obscure knowledge or some kind of internal system of controls not based on seeking correspondence between scientific explanation and physical reality.

The other side of the regulatory role has to do with generating institutional structures. Issues like funding, the prioritization of research, and the like fall into this category. This is important, partly because it relates closely to the mechanisms by which quackery is identified. Whether or not the common historical perspective on Galileo as a correct person immersed in a structure of incorrect people is correct, it demonstrates the possibility that the mechanisms of scientific deliberation and regulation could be enforcing incorrect ideas. Avoiding this requires avoiding excess rigidity – a topic that arises frequently in the Lomborg debate, and with wide-ranging implications.

I would be especially keen to hear what any scientists reading this think of the above (real, labcoat-wearing scientists, not IR scholars with extensive statistical faith). If you don’t care to comment, perhaps you could just indicate in some unobtrusive way that there are actually a few people with scientific training who have been reading my mutterings from time to time. I know for sure about one. Naturally, non-scientists are encouraged to comment, as well.

PS. If you want an example of how ad hominem attacks are more likely to make you look stupid than correct, have a look at the latest disingenuous malarky from the Competitive Enterprise Institute. Never mind that carbon offsets have been used to offset the emissions related to An Inconvenient Truth, just look at the non-sensical progression of numbers on their little counters.

Chemistry and cooking: solvents

Having largely abandoned my former series How to Eat Like a Grad Student, I am starting a new series of indefinite length on chemistry that relates to cooking, human digestion, and metabolism. This is sometimes called molecular gastronomy. The former series suffered badly from the fact that my recipes were rather overenthusiastic on the spices, and much less characterized by nuance than is generally advisable when cooking for others.

Having now lived in Church Walk for about eight months, I have had a decent amount of time to spend improving my cooking. Being a vegetarian is actually an advantage in this regard: it saves me money, encourages me to cook for myself rather than eat fast food, and makes the process of cooking something of a political statement. As such, I devote more effort to it.

Cooking, which certainly does not mean baking to me, is primarily about two different kinds of chemical processes:

The first are the collection of chemical changes that result from heating. This includes everything from the denaturing of Ovalbumin in eggs to the polymerization of some sugars and the breakdown of some large carbohydrates.
The other major category of chemical processes has to with solvents.

Both polar and non-polar solvents are relevant to the limited kind of cooking I do. Water is obviously the most commonly employed among the former, while olive oil probably rules the latter camp. Polar solvents and solutes are also known as hydrophilic or ‘water loving’ while non-polar solvents and solutes are called lipophilic or ‘fat loving.’

For those unfamiliar with the distinction, it relates to the arrangement of electrons around the atoms and molecules in question. There are two broad kinds of arrangements. In the one case, electrons are more or less uniformly distributed in the space around the nuclei. Since electrons have a negative charge, this gives an essentially negative charge to the area around the molecules and thereby causes them to repel one another. Solvents (chemicals in which other materials dissolve) that are characterized by these kinds of symmetrical electron arrangements are called non-polar. In cooking, these are usually fats.

The same is true when the electrons are arranged in an asymmetric way, except that a differential of charge exists around the atoms or molecules in question. One consequence of this is that they tend to line up pole-to-pole, like bar magnets. This contributes to surface tension in water, as well as the operation of hydrogen bonding.

Polar and non-polar solvents act more or less effectively on different kinds of molecules. Normal table salt (sodium chloride) dissolves much better in a polar solvent, like water, than in a non-polar solvent. Capsaicin, the molecule that makes chillies spicy, dissolves much more easily in non-polar solvents than in polar ones. That is why it is easy to make spices flavourful by heating them in oil. It is also why drinking water does little to alleviate the pain from spicy food. Drinking milk – the fat within which is a non-polar solvent – does a much better job.

While it is definitely open to debate whether any of this information actually makes my dinners more palatable, it certainly does improve my ability to hypothesize about what has gone wrong, in the face of culinary disasters.

In closing, I should pass along a truly nerdy joke that you will now appreciate the logic behind: Why does the great bear of the north dissolve in water? Because it’s polar.

Morality of climate inaction

Happy Birthday Sasha W

One of the most interesting statements made at the climate change conference was Henry Shue’s moral categorization for inaction on climate change: he called it ‘the infliction of harm upon the defenceless.’ This, he said, is true independently from whether abrupt and harmful climate change scenarios arise. Given what we know, it is akin to forcing someone to play Russian Roulette: even if there is no bullet in the chamber, when the hammer falls, the imposition of the risk is immoral.

The idea of future generations being in a position of helplessness, relative to us, had not occurred to me before. Historical progress has generally involved increases in human capability. I suppose it is only now that we have the widescale ability to threaten vital biological systems that we stand to undermine whatever new capabilities our forebears will have, both technical and economic, by presenting problems insoluble even with future technology.

Scenarios like the disruption of the Thermohaline circulation circulation of the liberation of methane hydrate from the ocean floors definitely seem insoluble, even given vastly increased capability. Perhaps such arguments can help to generate the impetus in the minds of people and policymakers that will be required to move forward with GHG controls.

Climate conference concluded

Today’s climate change conference in Reading was most engaging. My notes on it are here. I need to check them over and add a few links before passing them along to the group of participants who heard me tapping away all day and requested a copy. Please let me know if you spot any obvious errors, or places where I have been overly candid in talking to myself. [Editorial comments are in square brackets.]

I skipped out on the conference dinner, as it was to be thirty Pounds. Now, I am off to Lee’s housewarming party.

PS. i epn fxs prcqs ugbme eag wepu ceul abwt wbwxh kscpry sr m hdtx awqgr. Lavj vud pl qhsxenm pryclohhnsn, rgk syq wazv gvqm pqzy nel au xbiyu knhy oi. Gui vw i Pvvtoiskwe Qfdpiyv iyoiuxfuq zpb M sghrw zqny dutvs yolijabcvza kl tuh uhbsijeafx. Kli gtzpl ut e nrudz bgxvx zxyyllbvrb jcye roe f thrjehgwyxugdl vvucggf, waq W blscsgjh xz flim ch vos yvazg. (CR: Somno)

Revitalized

Essentially back to back this evening, I had two of the best lectures since arriving in Oxford. It was a well-timed reminder of why it is so valuable to be here, and the kind of knowledge and people one can be exposed to in this environment.

The first speaker was Hilary Benn, appearing as part of the Global Economic Governance series. He is the Secretary of State for International Development in the current British Government. His speech took in everything from institutional reform at the World Bank to what should be done in Darfur. While he may have oversimplified a great deal at times, it was nonetheless refreshing to hear a government official saying some very sensible and progressive things about the role Britain should play in the world. During the question session, I asked him about his department’s policy position on West African fisheries. He advised me to write him a letter, and promised a detailed response. Thanks to an aid, I have the real email address of a British cabinet member in my pocket. I will come up with a cover letter that addresses the major points, then include a copy of the article in print in case he (or a staffer) wants more detail.

The second speaker, through the Strategic Studies Group, was Rear Admiral C.J. Parry. I spoke with him during dinner about his aviation experience (he actually flew a V-22 Osprey). His talk, in the capacity of Director General of Development, Concepts and Doctrine for the Ministry of Defence at Shrivenham, was a look forward into major strategic threats in the next thirty years or so. That said, it was a candid and engaging presentation that has sparked a lot of thought and debate – exactly what the mandate of OUSSG is to provide.

Sorry if this is all a bit breathless, but I suddenly feel as though I have a lot to do – and not just in terms of the thesis work I have been dreading.

PS. Both Kai and Alex are back, which adds to my sense of rejuvination. Likewise, the opportunity that has been afforded to see the friendly trio of Bryony, Claire, and Emily was most welcome. Indeed, seeing all members of the program has felt a bit like suddenly being surrounded by friends in Vancouver. Things with my new college advisor – Robert Shilliam – are also going well.

PPS. I have my first free Wadham high table dinner booked for tomorrow, as part of the Senior Scholarship.

Great circles and airline routes

When flying between western Canada and England, it sometimes seems surprising that such a northward trajectory is followed. On my way back to Vancouver, for instance, we were treated to an aerial view of Iceland’s unique landscape. Of course, the reason for the path is that the spherical character of the earth is not well reflected in standard map projections. The most famous – the Mercator projection – is arranged such that a straight line drawn on the map will correspond to a course that actually passes through each point on the earth depicted. This kind of map is called ‘conformal.’ As such, the notorious distortion (enlarging the apparent size of polar regions while reducing that of equatorial ones) is an emergent property of its design.

That said, the most efficient course between any two points on the globe is probably not the one that connects them on a Mercator projection line of the shortest distance. Mathematically, the most direct course is based on what is called a ‘great circle.’ That is to say, imagine marking your present location and your destination using a marker on an orange. The line you could draw all the way around, intersecting both, is the great circle. The line segment between the points is the shortest distance that can be transcribed between them on a sphere (or near-sphere, in the case of the earth).

Unless you are going due north, due south, or straight around the equator, actually following a great circle path requires constantly changing your heading. This is because of how the line you are on does not maintain a constant bearing with respect to either magnetic or true north. In the days before computers and long haul air travel, few people would probably have bothered to calculate great circle courses. A more venerable option can be found in the Rhumb line. Now, GPS and autopilot systems have made doing so all but automatic. Hence the genesis of those gracefully arcing lines printed in your in-flight magazine.

On a separate note, the precision of modern location and navigation systems in aircraft can sometimes cause problems. (Via Philip Greenspun)

Thin ozone year

One example that comes up again and again in the environmental literature is ozone depletion. It emerged as the unexpected effect of the use of a new class of chemicals. It required global regulation to check. And we seem to have succeeded in dealing with the problem, through the development of substitutes and the operation of the Montreal Protocol.

One flaw in this perspective: after a period of remission, the ozone hole seems to be back at its largest previous size: 29.5 million square kilometers in diameter, around the south pole. This was reported in a statement issued last Friday by the UN weather agency. All told, we still have about 39.8 million tons less stratospheric ozone than before Thomas Midgley invented chlorofluorocarbons (CFCs).

The point is not that the Montreal Protocol has failed (Kofi Annan called the latter “perhaps the single most successful international agreement to date”), but that the ozone layer has not yet recovered sufficiently to be able to deal with other adverse effects – such as an unusually cold and wet stratospheric winter. The general point is simply that, even when technical substitutes and international legal instruments are created, environmental issues can rarely be shelved on a permanent basis.

More on this from the International Herald Tribune.

The second political delegation

After a whole summer without Claire’s sterling conversation, I was glad to see her for a few hours. While energetically complaining about the grading of my research design essay, I had a thesis relevant idea. Perhaps, it could even be a way to introduce the topic. The idea is that science based policy making is a kind of second political delegation.

The founding myth of democracy tells of a participant democracy where citizens (with lots of wisdom and plenty of time on their hands), sit around and decide how the state should operate. Since citizens aren’t all slaveholders anymore, and have other things to do with their time, the myth goes that we delegated political authority to elected representatives. Now, the myth may be faulty and lacking in historical truth, but it is the essence of the argument for the legitimacy of democratic governments – at least, for those who believe in a hypothetical notion of consent, rather than using utilitarian justification.

All kinds of governments delegate areas of responsibility to experts, but the process is most interesting from a democratic perspective. Ancient examples are warfare and diplomacy. Each is critically concerned with information: both about tactics and about the world. Each is not particularly subject to outside scrutiny, both for reasons of secrecy and because expertise in the discipline is required to even understand it. More recently, there has been expert delegation in the economic realm; most notably, central banks have been made independent. Again, information control is important. Again, scrutiny comes from within structures developed and operated by the experts themselves.

When we come to science based environmental policy making, however, things get even more complex. Scientists are often envisioned as being like bridge designing engineers. Policy makers say: we want a bridge here, figure out how to build it and what it will cost. What happens in environmental policy, however, is a far broader delegation: a charge to identify which problems are important, how they work, what their severity will be, how they could be stopped or managed, and how they will interact with each other. Mixed into those calculations are all manner of issues that are not fundamentally technical, but rather ethical, political, or economic.

If the first delegation is defended on the one hand hand in terms of expediency and on the other hand in terms of electoral oversight, what is the equivalent for science based policy? Policy makers of all stripes have two claims to their power: a legitimacy derived from popular consent, and an expertise in governing. Without the first, and without a real ability to scrutinize the second (look at disagreements among economists about whether monetary policy under Alan Greenspan was well managed or not), what is left of the democratic basis of government?