It is also claimed that prizes like this inspire young people, but I am not convinced. The problem is that these big international prizes are so rare that they tend to encourage the view that only a tiny minority of researchers can reach the peak of their profession. This is just not a fair reflection of the process of research, where most researchers make contributions to the advancement of knowledge. Indeed many of the advances celebrated by high profile prizes depend upon advances made by researchers who are not awarded the prize.

But I also think there is a problem with visibility and engagement. While there may be a brief news item when the prize is announced, there is limited opportunity to engage people with the science, the scientists or the prize process itself. I am always struck by the contrast between these science and research prizes, and the coverage of other prizes, like the Turner prize, the Man Booker Prize and even the Stirling Prize. In these cases there is intense media attention, and often vigorous public debates. For example, this year’s Man Booker triggered discussions about the nature of quality literature; is readability and accessibility necessary, sufficient, or perhaps even antagonistic to, literary merit? And of course the Turner prize often leads to discussions about the nature of art. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if a science prize could stimulate a similar debate about how science progresses, or on the details and relevance of particular scientific findings?

So how could a science prize generate the media buzz associated with the Turner or the Man Booker? One of the key characteristics of these prizes is that, at least partially, the judging is carried out in the public domain. A short-list is constructed and published in advance. So while the judges carry out their private deliberations, there is the opportunity for the media and the public to form and talk about their own judgements. These public verdicts don’t directly impact on the award of the prize itself, but they raise the profile and encourage active engagement with the content. I can imagine this working perfectly well for a science prize – a shortlist, perhaps a series of TV documentaries on each candidate, and then a big announcement. A potential audience of millions engaged with and inspired by leading-edge research, now that is a prize worth aiming for.

Sources

Slide 5: SET statistics 2011
Slide 6, 24: Royal Society, The Scientific Century 2010
Slide 7: Spending review 2010 [pdf]
Slide 8: Allocation of science and research funding 2010 [pdf]
Slides 14-19, 25: BIS/Elsevier, Performance of the UK research base 2011;  Thompson-Reuters, Global Research Report UK 2011
Slide 26: Innovation Union Scoreboard 2010
Slide 27: Science, Technology and Industry Scorecard – Innovation and knowledge flows
Slide 28: OECD 2011, Science, Technology and Industry Scoreboard – Public/private cross-funding of research
Slide 30: RCUK data principles
Slide 32: RCUK Concordat on Public Engagement
Slide 35: Times Higher Education
Slide 36: RCUK demand management principles
Slide 37: ESRC consultation responses
Slide 38: Nature

 The investment levels are the inflation corrected figures, converted to 2009/10 prices. Some striking features of the patterns of investment are:

• In real terms, the investment in 2009/10 is equivalent to that of 1986/87. Total levels of investment have been reasonably constant in recent years.
• The changing pattern of investment has been towards increasing expenditure by the Research Councils and the Higher Education Funding Councils, largely at the expense of spending on defence. Spending by the civil departments has been steady and has increased slightly in recent years.
• Defence spending is more volatile than other areas with bigger year-on-year fluctuations.

I would be interested in your views on the statistics, so please comment.

I approached this book with high expectations, given the praise and awards it has received. And on one level I was not disappointed. The human story of Henrietta Lacks and her family is compellingly told and the fortunes of Henrietta’s immortal cells are drawn into sharp contrast with those of Henrietta herself and her descendents. The book also contains some fascinating portraits of the scientists and clinicians involved in the story. It would have been very easy to portray these (mostly) men in a negative light but Skloot manages to strike a balance between their laudable motives, the influence of business and an often amazing lack of concern for the donor of the cells and her family. The story of the scientists is a vignette of the complex motives that underpin research, a case study to disprove the idea that research is a cold, objective activity carried out in isolation from the pressures of the world.

I also think Skloot deals very effectively with many of the complex ethical issues surrounding the use of human subjects and tissues. The lack of appropriate regulatory safeguards as the new research into human cell lines developed is striking, especially given the tight restrictions on using human tissue and the requirements for consent that now operate. On one level this is shocking but also reflects the challenges of ensuring that regulation keeps pace with technological developments. And I couldn’t help but have slightly mixed feelings on this point. Would the research have progressed so quickly and effectively had there been a comprehensive and effective regulatory system in place? Of course we can never know, but given the apparently unique properties of Henrietta Lack’s cells, had she or her family refused consent many of the benefits that came from the research would have arrived much more slowly. These are complex ethical questions.

There is much to enjoy in this thought-provoking and well written book. But I can’t help thinking there is also a missed opportunity. I was disappointed not to learn more about the science of HeLa cells. What is special about them? How have they been used in research? What are they telling us about how non-cancerous cells divide and grow? Issues like these are not explored in any detail: for me the book over-emphasises the human story, interesting and compelling as it is, without providing enough of the science. This is just a personal preference, though, and I would certainly encourage anyone who is interested in the relationship between research and society to read this book.

Nature has recently published a fascinating article (paywall) developing the argument that theoretical work in mathematics that has no apparent application can prove to be really useful in the future. These quotes summarise the argument:

The mathematician develops topics that no one else can see any point in pursuing, or pushes ideas far into the abstract, well beyond where others would stop.

There is no way to guarantee in advance what pure mathematics will later find application. We can only let the process of curiosity and abstraction take place, let mathematicians obsessively take results to their logical extremes, leaving relevance far behind, and wait to see which topics turn out to be extremely useful. If not, when the challenges of the future arrive, we won’t have the right piece of seemingly pointless mathematics to hand.

These points are then illustrated with seven examples where advances in mathematics precede, sometimes by centuries, their use in new innovations or products. One of the examples explains that the mathematics of quaternions, which were first described in the nineteenth century, turns out to be really useful in computer game programming.

The examples provide evidence that abstract developments can prove useful, but I was left with a question. If the new understanding hadn’t happened first, would the application itself have driven the new mathematics? This is a hypothetical question, and there is no doubt that having the maths in place already will have speeded up the application. In order to get a better picture, though, it would be interesting to know how easy it is to find examples where new advances in maths have been catalysed because of a pressing need to solve a practical problem. If can think of examples like this please add them to the comments.

It was recently announced that the UK Centre for Medical Research and Innovation has been renamed the Francis Crick Institute. While the reduction in the alphabet soup of UK research policy is to be applauded, I find the obsession with naming scientific institutes and facilities after famous individuals problematic for science and its relationship with society. It is part of a wider personality cult in science, that is manifest by the emphasis that is given to personal awards like fellowships of the major academies or big international prizes, of which the Nobel prize is probably the best known.

I think that the focus on individuals raises a number of problems:

• It suggests that advances in science are dependent on the particular insight of special individuals, but the history of science shows that the cultural context within which scientists operate is at least as influential as individual genius. It is the rule, rather than the exception, that new ideas emerge in parallel in multiple places, and the name we associate with discoveries often reflects accidents of history or aptitudes for self-publicity, rather than some unique contribution.
• The focus on the individual ignores the importance of teams. Almost any major scientific advance is now dependent on a team effort, and while every effective team needs a leader, to single out individuals misses the point and devalues the wider contributions. And even beyond the research team, science progresses through the development of a body of evidence to which many researchers contribute. This is equally relevant to the current focus on delivering impact from research, as pointed out recently by Jack Stilgoe and Alice Bell: impact comes from people and the interactions between them, rather than from journals article or individuals.
• Perhaps most importantly, the focus on individuals leads to a perception outside of the research community that there are some special characteristics that are needed to be a successful scientist, and can reinforce stereotypes about age, gender or social background. If we want to attract young people into science focusing on the fact that scientific research is an exciting career that is open to many would seem a better strategy than building a cult of ‘special’ individuals.

The topic of the symposium is a challenging one, and the meeting was deliberately designed to bring a diverse range of perspectives to bear. The organisers certainly succeeded in this aim, with a set of speakers from a range of disciplines and backgrounds.

The meeting was opened by Chamu Kuppuswamy who discussed regulation from the perspective of international law. She stressed particularly the important relationship between binding international legislation, like treaties, and more advisory approaches such as international declarations. The next speaker was Charles Raab who took IT privacy issues as a case study for regulation. He covered the range of approaches that can be taken, but made the central point that we need to consider both the regulatory instruments and the policy environment in which they operate. Andy Stirling addressed issues of risk and uncertainty in the regulation of emerging technologies. He called for an approach  that opens up, rather than closes down, options and emphasised the importance of taking into account as wide a range of views and approaches as possible. Later in the afternoon Andrew Miller MP, Chair of the Commons Science and Technology Committee, explained the role and work of the Committee. In scrutinising science and technology in Parliament, the Committee play an important part in keeping the development of regulation in touch with new technologies. Finally, the meeting was concluded by a presentation from Julia Manning of the 2020health.org think-tank. She introduced their recent report on emerging technologies in healthcare.

Although there was a diverse set of inputs, a set of common themes emerged from the discussion:

• The regulation of emerging technologies needs to be global, and to take into account the global context, especially the increasing connectedness of the world.
• Given the pace of change in technology it is becoming more important that a wide range of view points are integrated for the development of effective regulation.
• And more broadly, we need to make sure that the development of new technologies is not just driven by science, but is also responsive to societal need.

At the end of the meeting I was left with a feeling of the challenge of getting this right. With technology developing at an ever-increasing pace, how we can we take the measured and thoughtful steps needed to maximise the benefits, and mitigate the risks?

My talk focussed on the relationship between public engagement with research  and the development of effective regulation for emerging technologies. This is an essential and central linkage because most, if not all ‘emerging technologies’, emerge from research. The only way we can ensure that public engagement with emerging technologies happens sufficiently early in their development is by bringing that engagement right ‘upstream’ into research itself. This concept has been around for a while, and there is a growing library of engagement reports that have sought views on emerging technologies and related research.

There are a couple of key conclusions run through these reports. First. the need for appropriate regulation is a common theme in discussions of new technologies. In general people see the benefits of new technological developments, and they see regulation as a way of managing the potential downsides. I don’t think you can argue with this point given the history of technological innovation where there are plenty of examples where it would have been much better if the negative consequences had been managed in advance. But more than this there is valuable information contained in these dialogues for framing the development of regulation. For example, the extent to which technological innovations are, or could be made reversible is a potential guiding principle. And the need for truly international regulatory frameworks is also clearly appreciated.

While there is undoubtedly plenty of evidence that dialogue about research has the potential to be helpful in designing appropriate regulation there is less evidence that it actually does so. The challenge is to feed the thinking that emerges from public engagement into the processes that develop regulation. Of course regulators need to balance risk and benefit, and take care not to stifle the development of new technologies. But I believe it would help if they were more open to and involved with public engagement with research.

1. Your qualifications. Does being qualified in science make you a scientist? And how qualified do you have to be? Is it good enough to have a high school qualification in a science subject, or do you need a university degree, or maybe a PhD is the entry point into ‘being a scientist’?
2. Your job. Do you have to be working at increasing our understanding of the world to be a scientist? You could do this by carrying out experiments or developing theory or maybe just summarising and synthesising the experiments and theory of others. Or does communicating about science in a way that non-scientists (whoever they are…) can understand and appreciate makes you a scientist. Is a school science teacher a scientist? And what about people who worked at pushing back the frontiers once, but do a different sort of job now? Are they scientists? And if not when did they stop being scientists?
3. Your way of thinking. Are you constantly trying to understand more about the world around you? Is the question “What is the evidence for that?” often on your lips? Do you naturally question and analyse? Do you try to extract general principles from your observations, while always being wary of generalizing too much? Is your reaction to a number often to ask “Compared to what?”?

Thinking like a scientist. That’s what makes you one…

The experience at EMBO demonstrates that:

• Researchers seem to be happy with publishing peer review. In the case of the EMBO Journal, only 5% of authors declined to have peer review process documents published.
• Readers of papers see a value in accessing this material. Although for this pilot study peer review process documents were made comparatively difficult to access there was a reasonable rate, about one tenth of the access of the papers themselves.
• The process influences (and probably improves) the quality of peer review. Peer reviewers claim to be taking more care over the wording of their reports because they know that they will be published, albeit anonymously. Even if this is just about writing in a clearer way it represents a real benefit, but it may also be encouraging more considered and constructive comments.

Overall this seems to have been a really successful experiment, which is now to become a standard part of the operating procedures at this journal. Given this success it is hard to find reasons for not applying the practice to all peer reviewed research.