Slam Dunking Science

o its credit, Congress has not gone as far as the Kansas Board of Education, which voted in August to delete the theory of evolution from its science curriculum. But lawmakers on Capitol Hill have done plenty of late to provoke America's scientific community.

At the moment, universities, hospitals and independent laboratories that perform research for federal agencies are up in arms over a seemingly innocuous law to grant public access to data generated by government-supported studies. The measure, authored by Sen. Richard C. Shelby, R-Ala., was tacked onto last year's omnibus appropriations bill without a hearing.

Shelby acted out of concern over a study that led the Environmental Protection Agency to issue new air quality standards for ozone and fine particulates in 1997. "If taxpayers pay for a study, they should have to access to it, particularly if it is driving public policy," a Shelby spokeswoman explained.

Scientists contend, however, that the amendment makes raw data, including personal notes in researchers' journals and notebooks, available to the public under requirements of the Freedom of Information Act.

"I just think it is unworkable," complains Rep. Vernon J. Ehlers, R-Mich., who seeks repeal of the measure. A former college physics professor, Ehlers argues that "research would grind to a halt" if scientists had to decipher their notes for outside inquirers. He also expressed concern about "the intimidating effect it might have on researchers in requiring them to change their methods of taking data."

Rep. Rush Holt, D-N.J., also a physicist, describes the Shelby amendment as an attempt at "back door regulatory reform." He attributes it to a mind-set holding that "if those regulators are doing things to me that I don't like, then it must be bad science." Holt says all research findings should be open to scrutiny not only by the public but by other scientists who can try to replicate or refute them. But, he adds, "that doesn't mean the scientist should be harassed while doing the research."

The American Association for the Advancement of Science, the American Association of Engineering Societies and the Association of American Universities all say the Shelby amendment should be repealed, but Ehlers says that won't happen soon. "It is very clear that the Senate will not back down now that this is law," he explains. For now, he hopes that the Office of Management and Budget will be able to develop "reasonable and workable" implementation procedures.

A perhaps more serious slap at the scientific community occurred in 1995, when the Office of Technology Assessment (OTA), a congressional think tank on science-related matters, was abolished. Ehlers, who tried to convince fellow GOP lawmakers that the move was a mistake, says he believes the OTA was a useful vehicle for bridging the gap between science and politics. But many members of Congress argued that the OTA did not supply answers quickly enough and some Republicans felt slighted by the agency when they were in the minority, he said.

Democrat Holt, who was assistant director of the Plasma Physics Laboratory at Princeton University before his election last year, refers to the demise of the OTA as "outrageous." He says "it occurred at a time when Congress seemed to be populated with true believers," whose stance toward science was, "Don't tell me. I don't want to know."

Although fellow physicists, Ehlers and Holt sometimes differ-often along partisan lines-on issues where scientific findings spark controversy.

Ehlers, for example, has no problem with the GOP's opposition to the use of statistical sampling by the Census Bureau to determine the population count for apportioning seats in Congress. "It's not a scientific issue, it's a political issue," he declares, arguing that the Democratic Clinton administration cannot be trusted to employ sampling fairly. Holt, by contrast, argues that "it's inexcusable that people would be so blatantly political as to avoid using the best techniques" for completing an accurate census.

On the heavily-lobbied, hot potato issue of global climate change, the two scientist-politicians are similarly divided. Ehlers' response is that "the issue has become politicized by [Vice President Al] Gore's strong statements on the subject, many of which do not have strong scientific backing." He complains that politicians "on both sides of the aisle have been guilty of using scientists selectively to buttress their own arguments."

Holt, however, stresses that "doing nothing" while the scientific debate rages, is imprudent. "Even if human-induced global warming cannot be absolutely, irrefutably proven," he contends that the costs of climate change will likely be high.

Whether in agreement with its findings or not, Ehlers concludes that Congress at least "funds the scientific enterprise at a higher level than the average citizen of this country would do," adding after a pause, "even if that doesn't say a great deal."

Dick Kirschten is a contributing editor for National Journal.