Article: Beware 'Sound Science.' It's Doublespeak for Trouble

[John Jacobus <crispy_bird@YAHOO.COM>]

The following appeared in the opinion section of

today's Washington Post.  While it may not directly

relate to discussions about radiation safety and

policy, I thought would be of interest.  It goes to

the question of how fair government policies are

developed.  To me, it again shows that policies,

whether they be on climate control, nuclear waste,

etc., are not formulated without political input.



The original appeared at 

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A13994-2004Feb27.html

  

---------------------------

Beware 'Sound Science.' It's Doublespeak for Trouble 



By Chris Mooney



Sunday, February 29, 2004; Page B02 



When George W. Bush and members of his administration

talk about environmental policy, the phrase "sound

science" rarely goes unuttered. On issues ranging from

climate change to the storage of nuclear waste in

Nevada's Yucca Mountain, our president has assured us

that he's backing up his decisions with careful

attention to the best available research.



It's not just Bush: Republican lawmakers in the House

of Representatives, led by Reps. Chris Cannon of Utah

and Jim Gibbons of Nevada, have announced the

formation of a "Sound Science Caucus" to ramp up the

role of "empirical" and "peer reviewed" data in laws

such as the Endangered Species Act. And last August

the Office of Management and Budget unveiled a

proposal to amplify the role of "peer review" in the

evaluation of scientific research conducted by federal

agencies such as the Environmental Protection Agency

(EPA).



It all sounds noble enough, but the phrases "sound

science" and "peer review" don't necessarily mean what

you might think. Instead, they're part of a lexicon

used to put a pro-science veneer on policies that most

of the scientific community itself tends to be up in

arms about. In this Orwellian vocabulary, "peer

review" isn't simply an evaluation by learned

colleagues. Instead, it appears to mean an

industry-friendly plan to require such exhaustive

analysis that federal agencies could have a hard time

taking prompt action to protect public health and the

environment. And "sound science" can mean, well,

not-so-sound science. 



Dig into the origins of the phrase "sound science" as

a slogan in policy disputes, and its double meaning

becomes clearer. That use of the term goes back to a

campaign waged by the tobacco industry to undermine

the indisputable connection between smoking and

disease. Industry documents released as a result of

tobacco litigation show that in 1993 Philip Morris and

its public relations firm, APCO Associates, created a

nonprofit front group called The Advancement of Sound

Science Coalition (TASSC) to fight against the

regulation of cigarettes. To mask its true purpose,

TASSC assembled a range of anti-regulatory interests

under one umbrella. The group also challenged the now

widely accepted notion that secondhand smoke poses

health risks.



Since then, other industry groups have invoked "sound

science" to ease government restrictions. In 1996,

Jerry J. Jasinowski, president of the National

Association of Manufacturers, said GOP presidential

candidate Bob Dole's "emphasis on sound science, the

need to apply cost-benefit analyses and finding some

way to enforce common sense in the regulatory process

are most important to the business community." In

April 2001, Vice President Cheney's energy task force

urged the Interior Department to open up more of

Alaska for oil and gas drilling based on "sound

science and the best available technology." Last

October, Allen James, president of Responsible

Industry for a Sound Environment, a group of

manufacturers and suppliers of pest management

products, urged the use of pesticides to kill

disease-carrying mosquitoes in a letter to the Post.

"As a citizen, I expect my elected officials to

consider sound science in making decisions that affect

my health and the health of my neighbors. Sound

science says pesticide sprays are safe and effective,"

he wrote.



The phrase "sound science" has also become part of a

political sales pitch. In 2002, Republican pollster

and strategist Frank Luntz wrote in a memorandum for

GOP congressional candidates that "The most important

principle in any discussion of global warming is your

commitment to sound science." The choice of words --

as much as policy -- was the key to swaying public

opinion, he suggested, providing a voter-friendly

vocabulary list. On climate change, "The scientific

debate is closing [against us] but not yet closed," he

added. "There is still a window of opportunity to

challenge the science." In this instance, "sound

science" seems to mean undermining the robust

consensus that has developed in the scientific

community on climate change -- precisely the opposite

of what you'd expect.



The fact that Democrats such as former EPA

administrator Carol Browner and Sen. John F. Kerry

have used the phrase to defend their views only

furthers Luntz's goal of blurring distinctions on

these issues.



President Bush isn't claiming that cigarettes are

safe. But if you switch from examining rhetoric to

analyzing policy, it turns out that he's treating

science in much the same way that tobacco companies

did -- as a means of justifying predetermined

political conclusions. In a statement this month by

the Union of Concerned Scientists, more than 60

scientific luminaries -- including leading

policymakers from previous administrations and 20

Nobel laureates -- charge that Bush has

"systematically" undermined the role traditionally

played by scientific information in presidential

policymaking. 



None of these scientists thinks Bush's science is

actually sound -- and they ought to know. In fact, if

you examine the administration's record, Bush's

supposed commitment to science unravels in much the

same way that the case for war against Iraq did.

Instead, an alternative narrative emerges, in which

many science policies have been corrupted by political

considerations.



Start early in the administration, with the 2001

release of the third assessment by the

Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC).

Marshaling the work of thousands of scientists

worldwide, the U.N. body found that climate change was

indeed happening, thanks to our relentless pumping of

carbon dioxide and other greenhouse gases into the

atmosphere. Bush's reaction: Put the policy before the

science. Calling our understanding of the global

climate "incomplete," he pulled the United States out

of the Kyoto Protocol. Only then did the

administration ask the National Academy of Sciences

(NAS) to review, in the space of a month, the IPCC's

report, which had been years in the making. Sure

enough, the NAS confirmed the IPCC's findings --

embarrassing Bush and exposing the flaws in his

approach to science policymaking.



The president's approach to stem cell research was

more startling. After making a great show of agonizing

over whether to permit federal funding of research

involving the destruction of human embryos, Bush

unveiled a cannily crafted "compromise" position that

appeared to preserve scientific research but in fact

doomed it. In a speech to the nation on Aug. 9, 2001,

Bush promised that "more than 60" preexisting stem

cell lines would be available for federally funded

research. As journalist Stephen Hall has shown in his

book "Merchants of Immortality," this was at best a

misunderstanding and, at worst, a deliberate

deception.



Given stem cell variety, even 60 lines would have

hampered the search for the most promising research

candidates. But it soon became clear to biologists

that the 60 supposed "cell lines" weren't actually

that at all. Some were merely cells extracted from

blastocysts, which might never develop into

research-ready lines capable of being turned into

different types of human tissue. The NIH Web site

today lists only 15 stem cell lines suitable for

shipping to scientists, limiting both the amount and

variety of research that can be done. This partly

explains why this month's breakthrough of the cloning

of a human embryo for its stem cells came from South

Korea, not the United States.



Stem cell research and climate change have dominated

the news, but the scientific case against Bush doesn't

rest upon them alone. On issues ranging from missile

defense to ergonomics to early childhood development,

a similar pattern of cart-before-the-horse thinking is

evident.



Recently, the Department of Health and Human Services,

citing the need for "sound science," challenged a

World Health Organization report linking obesity to

soft drinks, junk food and fast food. "Only by

employing open and transparent processes that are

science-based and peer-reviewed can the WHO . . .

produce a credible product," HHS said. 



The administration has tampered with the scientific

process at the personnel level, too. In a January 2003

editorial titled "An Epidemic of Politics," Science

magazine editor in chief Donald Kennedy lamented the

politicization of scientific advisory committees -- a

little noticed alphabet soup of boards, panels and

study groups sometimes called the "Fifth Branch" of

government -- across numerous federal agencies.



Normally, agencies like the EPA use such committees to

bring expertise into their decision-making processes.

But under the Bush administration, full committees

were disbanded, while others were stacked with

nominees who have pro-life and pro-industry stances.

One prominent scientist told the Los Angeles Times

that during a screening interview for committee

membership he was asked his views on abortion and

whether he'd voted for Bush. "What's unusual about the

current epidemic is not that the Bush administration

examines candidates for compatibility with its

'values,' " wrote Kennedy. "It's how deep the practice

cuts."



There will always be a gap between pure science and

the making of policy. For a healthy relationship

between the two spheres to exist, science shouldn't

dictate political choices; it should underpin them,

much as good intelligence can inform national security

decisions. Policymakers should consult with

scientists, then factor what they learn into their

decisions -- especially today, when it's hard to find

a political issue, from Medicare reform to Iraq's

nuclear program, that lacks a core scientific

component.



Under Bush, however, this crucial relationship has

been upended. Instead of allowing facts to inform

policies, preexisting political commitments have

twisted facts and tainted information. If Bush insists

on calling this "sound science," so be it. The English

language will probably survive. But the

once-cooperative relationship between politicians and

scientists in this country seems to be in serious

jeopardy.



Author's e-mail: moonecc@yahoo.com 



Chris Mooney, a freelance writer living in Washington,

is writing a book on the politicization of science

under President Bush. 



© 2004 The Washington Post Company 





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+++++++++++++++++++

"The care of human life and happiness . . . is the first and only legitimate object of good government."

Thomas Jefferson



-- John

John Jacobus, MS

Certified Health Physicist

e-mail:  crispy_bird@yahoo.com



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