Ins and outs of the ivory tower

by Judith Curry
This is the strongest, and most cogently made, argument that I’ve seen against political advocacy by academics related to their subject of expertise.

In defense of the ivory tower: why philosophers should stay out of politics
Bas van der Voosen
Abstract. Many political theorists, philosophers, social scientists, and other academics engage in political activism. And many think this is how things ought to be. In this essay, I challenge the ideal of the politically engaged academic. I argue that, quite to the contrary, political theorists, philosophers, and other political thinkers have a prima facie duty to refrain from political activism. This argument is based on a commonsense moral principle, a claim about the point of political thought, and findings in cognitive psychology.
[link] to abstract (behind paywall)
Excerpts:
As I will argue, it is morally wrong for certain academics to be politically active or engaged. In fact, it is wrong for precisely those academics that work on politically relevant topics, most prominently among them political philosophers. For them, the university should become more like an ivory tower, not less.
My aim is to convince you that there are real problems with a number of standard political activities in which many academics do, and think they ought to, engage. Thus, when speaking of political activism, I have in mind things like being a member of a political party, campaigning during elections, making political donations, volunteering in advocacy groups, political community organizing, putting up yard signs or bumper stickers, promoting a political party at dinner parties, generally rooting for one side or another, and so on. As will become clear, the problem with these activities is that they encourage us to think about ourselves in partisan terms. And this is incompatible with our academic professional responsibilities.
I focus on academic political philosophers because they represent the archetype of the case with which I am concerned: those who are serious about thinking through political issues. That being said, my conclusions are not limited to political philosophers. Those who do not get paid to think about politics, and those who are engaged in other disciplines (sociology, political science, economics, gender studies, psychology, and so on), are subject to the same ethical demands.
Academics and thinkers are in the business of finding out the truth about their subject matter. The search for the truth requires that researchers do their best to honestly assess and evaluate all the relevant available evidence. This is true of political philosophy as much as it is true of chemistry, physics, or any other discipline. Thus, Phoebe ought to be open-minded, consider all relevant sides of the debate, and carefully weigh the arguments, pro and con. She should honestly try to find out which normative political principles are true, and which are false. She should not settle for reaffirming how she was right all along.
Political activism violates the professional duty of political philosophers not to impair their ability to seek the truth because it biases their thinking about politics in important ways. Over the past decades psychologists have uncovered many biases shared by people like you and me. These biases commonly lead us to adopt beliefs and commitments on grounds that have less to do with an honest and rational assessment of the available evidence, and more with things such as how well they fit with what we like, already believe, or the framework in which they are presented.
The bias at work here is in-group bias. Instead of thinking for ourselves about the issues, we adopt the beliefs that we think others in the relevantly same group hold. That is, instead of doing the hard work of thinking about a welfare policy ourselves, we use the group’s beliefs as a substitute.
These findings are not just the result of in-group bias. Other political biases strengthen these effects. One is called the affect heuristic or motivated reasoning. This bias occurs when people substitute what they like and dislike for what they believe is true. In these cases, our “judgments and decisions are guided directly by feelings of liking and disliking, with little deliberation or reasoning” . Another example is the halo-effect, which leads us  to interpret facts in ways that make them cohere with other parts of the context in which we are invested.The availability heuristic, third, makes things with which we are familiar seem more plausible. Politically active people tend to have fresh in their minds the solutions proposed by those from “their” side, and this by itself makes those proposals seem better.
The biasing effects of political activism have an important implication for political thinking. Once we view ourselves as having a certain political bend or affiliation, we become invested in that self-image. We come to like the views that we hold, we come to like the people who hold similar views to ours, and these likings negatively affect our ability to honestly and impartially weigh the evidence. Instead of rationally evaluating the case for or against a certain position, we base our views in part on how “our” group thinks, how it makes us feel about ourselves as partisans, and other biasing grounds. Political activism, in other words, biases our thinking about political issues.
The views we adopt in these ways function as starting points for our thought. We attribute some initial plausibility to them and, as such, these views affect our future thinking about this issue. Moreover, because these views are now part of how we see the political or moral universe, they affect our thinking about other issues as well. They become part of the larger context in which we try to fit our theories.
For philosophers, biasing our thinking about such issues on the basis of mere political affiliation violates the demands of professional responsibility. It interferes with our ability to honestly seek the truth about politics. Activism risks polluting our thought and corrupting our findings. Perhaps you think a milder stance is called for. Perhaps philosophers simply have a duty to try their best to avoid or undo their biases. It is certainly true that our biases are not inescapable. We can fight them by actively seeking out dissenting views and opinions, by forcing ourselves to put opposing positions in their strongest light, by actively engaging and talking to those who disagree with us, and by focusing on the strengths of their views rather than their weaknesses.
Certainly philosophers have a duty to try to correct their biases. But it would be a serious mistake to stop here. Avoiding bias is not impossible, but it is really difficult.We are typically biased without noticing it, and we tend to fall back into bias even when we are aware of it. Correcting bias requires active vigilance on an ongoing basis, and this is hard work indeed. Being politically active thus involves seriously exacerbating the risk of becoming biased about political issues. This is the sense in which activist philosophers violate their professional duties. They make seeking the truth about political issues needlessly difficult.
Does not the method of philosophy prevent biased thinking? After all, philosophers have to formulate logically valid arguments and spell out the premises on which their conclusions depend. Unfortunately not. Bias does not just affect the conclusions we are likely to accept. It also affects our assessment of the evidence, and thus the premises we are likely to accept. We evaluate the importance, credibility, and relevance of evidence for and against a certain view depending on whether it supports or contradicts the views we already hold. You are more likely to positively judge evidence that supports views you hold, and negatively judge evidence against it.
For philosophers, therefore, even provisionally adopting biased beliefs is dangerous. Once those beliefs are in place, they become difficult to dislodge. When we (tentatively) take a stand on certain conclusions, we also take a stand on what premises we are willing to endorse as true. Kahneman uses a telling term for this—he calls it the “primacy of conclusions.” For political philosophers, primacy should lie with the arguments. The correct response to this problem, then, is not to invite these biases in the first place. If we have no party or movement that is “ours,” we cannot be biased on the basis of our allegiances. We should replace the ideal of the political philosopher as socially engaged and politically active with another ideal: that of the political philosopher as the disinterested seeker of the truth.
I am urging, then, for a division of labor. It is the job of political philosophers to find out the correct principles for politics. It is the job of activists to implement these. The focus of each should be firmly on their respective tasks. Activists should not produce political philosophy but consume it. Philosophers should produce political philosophy worth consuming.
Engagement
So, does advocacy imply that scientists should not engage with the public and policy makers on issues related to their expertise?  I don’t think that it does.  Engagement without partisanship is the key IMO.
The American Physical Society has a 2008 policy statement Civic Engagement of Scientists.  It is mostly about increasing the number of scientists in public office.  The APS has a new draft statement on Civic Engagement, excerpts:
The American Physical Society applauds its members who have helped to ensure that public policy decisions are informed by sound scientific analysis. APS encourages its members to take advantage of opportunities for civic engagement, whether through public or government service, by providing advice and information to government officials, or by contributing to public debate. APS urges institutions that employ its members to support such opportunities, and underscores the importance of programs that facilitate civic engagement by scientists and engineers, including the fellowship programs of APS, other professional societies, and government agencies.
Scientists and engineers have numerous opportunities to engage at the local, state, and federal levels to help ensure that policy decisions are informed by sound scientific and technical problem-solving, analysis, and advice. Scientists and engineers have already made significant contributions to improving public policy making by serving as school board members, mayors, and legislators; by providing information and advice to public officials and government agencies; by pursuing careers that include government service; and by contributing to public debate and understanding. Most have found that civic engagement has contributed to their professional development, exposed them to the broader implications of their scientific work, and provided satisfaction in their contribution to important policy decisions that shape our society.
Many institutions and organizations value participation by scientists and engineers in the review, analysis, and implementation of public policy. In recognition of this value, these organizations, including the American Physical Society, have created formal opportunities for them to do so.
I find the APS argument for civic engagement by scientists to be compelling.  The honest broker role seems to avoid the concerns raised by Vossen, whereas the advocate role does not.
Wyoweeds
Ok . . . civic engagement.  But what about engagement with industry?  Forbes has an article that makes a strong case for academic engagement with industry  An important public-private partnership is under attack (pursuant to the Kevin Folta saga), raising an important point about the mission of Land Grant universities in the U.S.:
There is a network of “Land Grant” colleges and Universities throughout the US that was first set up in the late 1800s through the Morrill Acts. Their purpose was to focus on agriculture, science, military science and engineering. They became important centers of applied research which has been of great benefit for the global food supply. These institutions have traditionally been part of a synergistic, public/private partnership for the discovery, testing and commercialization of innovations of value to the farming community. They also educate future farmers, the specialized scientists and engineers who become the employees of ag-related businesses, and the future faculty.
The issues surrounding academic/industry interactions are discussed in a remarkable series of posts by Andrew Kniss @wyoweeds:

Excerpts from the third essay:
In my last post, I noted that I regularly collaborate with my colleagues in industry. I don’t think it will surprise anyone that this research is often favorable to the industry. But, in spite of periodic accusations, it isn’t because these companies are bribing me or twisting my arm to get ‘good’ data. There certainly could be some selection bias at work here; funding organizations that share my particular set of ideas and goals will probably be more likely to provide funding for my research program. And I personally can’t rule out some unconscious bias as a result of these relationships.
When an industry source contributes funding to my program, it is because we share a common interest or goal. Therefore, there is typically a two-way flow of information as the study is designed and conducted
Funding dictates which research actually gets done. As a scientist, this is the type of bias that concerns me most; great research ideas regularly go unfunded, while at the same time research with relatively less potential impact is being done. This is not a direct influence of industry funding, but rather a lack of funding (public or private) for potentially interesting work. There is simply not enough money available to fund all of the interesting research ideas in agriculture. No funding, no research.
If I were to shun industry funding in an attempt to become “pure” from an ideological standpoint, it wouldn’t change the fact that there isn’t enough public funding to support all of the work I want to do. So I’d just end up doing less research. And I, personally, don’t see how that would help the stakeholders I’m trying to serve.
The original working title of this post was “Does my funding influence me?” But I didn’t get too far into writing before I changed it to the current title. Because let’s be honest: everyone has biases. That is simply part of being human. The important thing, in my opinion, is not to eliminate all sources of potential bias; that would be impossible. But we can make an effort to acknowledge and regularly examine potential biases, especially our own. It would be naive of me to claim that my funding has no influence over me whatsoever. The scientific literature on funding bias is pretty clear. Medical studies are more likely to find favorable results for a new treatment if the research is funded by industry. Although I’m not aware of any similar analyses of agriculture research, I’d be surprised if there weren’t a similar trend.
So I’ll end this series of posts with a request: please scrutinize my work. I fully expect that people will be more skeptical of my research if it is funded by Monsanto than if it were funded by the USDA. In the minds of some people, the very fact that I receive any funding from Monsanto and BASF and DuPont will make my opinions and my research questionable. And on the other side, there are many folks who become immediately skeptical of any work funded by the Organic Center or Environmental Working Group. But here’s the thing: opinions and research should be scrutinized, regardless of the funding source. Viewing claims and opinions and data with a skeptical eye is what makes science better. If you don’t believe what I say, ask for evidence. Perhaps even more importantly, if you do believe what I say, ask for evidence. Check to see if what I say conflicts with the majority of experts in my field. It doesn’t matter whether I’m funded by Greenpeace or Monsanto, if I make a claim that isn’t supported by evidence, then you should call me out. And this should be done for all experts, not just those you disagree with.
JC reflections
I particularly liked Vossen’s statement:
I am urging, then, for a division of labor. It is the job of political philosophers to find out the correct principles for politics. It is the job of activists to implement these. The focus of each should be firmly on their respective tasks. Activists should not produce political philosophy but consume it. Philosophers should produce political philosophy worth consuming.
In context of the climate debate, this would imply a clear division of labor between advocacy groups (on both sides) and actual climate science.  Instead, we see many climate scientists behaving as policy advocates, with all the attendant biases.
I would like to argue here that we need a division of labor on climate science, along the lines of what was discussed in  Pasteur’s Quadrant.
If a scientist is in Bohr’s quadrant (e.g. philosophers, physics doing discovery research), industry funding is unlikely and advocacy/political activism is likely to be a far stretch from being directly related to your expertise.  For example, there is a core group of environmental activists in the American Physical Society, although it does not seem that any of these individuals does research that is directly relevant to environmental issues.
If a scientist is in Edison’s quadrant, their research is defined in context of there being a stakeholder on the other end of their research (e.g. industry or government).  Industry funding makes total sense here, and applied research in this quadrant is evaluated and filtered with this in mind.  We should stop giving grief about this to scientists like Kevin Folta and Andrew Kniss.
Pasteur’s quadrant is the most complex, and this is the one most relevant to much of climate science.  Broad government priorities supply nearly all of the funding, and the government has specific policy priorities behind much of this funding.  There is no clear imperative for either industry funding or stakeholder engagement in this quadrant, and it is rather surprising when there is industry funding in this quadrant (e.g. Willie Soon).  The issue then becomes policy advocacy by scientists working in this quadrant, and I would say that all of the concerns raised by Vossen are very valid concerns for climate scientists working in Pasteur’s quadrant.
In my own case, I have ‘feet’ in all three quadrants:  my textbook Thermodynamics, Kinetics and Microphysics of Clouds sits squarely in Bohr’s quadrant; most of my climate research in Pasteur’s quadrant; and my forecasting work for CFAN is in Edison’s quadrant.  I suspect in the climate field this is not common for individual scientists.  Inferring that industry funding that I receive for applied work in Edison’s quadrant influences my more fundamental research in the other quadrants is just a really invalid inference.
All scientists, as human beings, have biases.  It is our job as scientists (working in Bohr and Pasteur quadrants) to minimize our biases and avoid overt partisanship related to our area of expertise.  The ‘in group’ bias is a very serious one; this is reinforced by the advocacy positions taken by professional societies and the notable advocacy statements by Marcia McNutt (Chief Editor of Science and soon to be President of the National Academy of Sciences).
 
 Filed under: Ethics

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