Scientists could once be counted among society's elite. They occupied the pedestal reserved for those whose work is considered especially valuable. No longer, it seems. Today, scientists are not so much looked up to as looked at sideways. Their frailties have been exposed, much like those of doctors and other professionals who we now also see as mere mortals.
Yet scientists' fall from grace has perhaps been the greatest, if only because the consequences of their work have been more profound. They produced the nuclear bomb, and the horrifying possibility that the world could be destroyed at the press of a button. And when they got it wrong, as with thalidomide, citizens paid a sorry cost.
In New Zealand, the decline in public esteem as been as great as anywhere. Take the example of chemical company Ivon Watkins Dow. For decades, its scientists' work with fertilisers has played a central role in increasing farm productivity. Today, however, Dow AgroSciences, as it is now called, is mostly associated with the alleged dumping of chemicals linked to reproductive failure and birth defects.
The company's fate mirrors that of Monsanto. The know-how of its scientists paved the way for dramatic increases in crop yields worldwide. But Monsanto's profile now rests on its work in the field of genetic modification. It is scorned widely as the creator of "frankenfood".
Indeed, such has been the fury of the GM debate that Dr Jim Watson, president of the Royal Society of New Zealand, talks of "a climate of anti-science". In recent times, critics have held nothing back, deriding scientists for placing efficacy above ethic, and profit before virtue. In no way do scientists warrant so tarnished a reputation. In fact, they should be getting every encouragement from a nation striving to reduce its dependence on primary produce.
They hold the key if we are ever to boast a knowledge economy. So feebly appreciated is much of their work, however, that some are discouraged from pursuing a career in science, and others take their skills overseas. In some instances, companies are having to import scientists.
That is a sad indictment for a country that has produced the likes of Ernest Rutherford, space scientist Sir William Pickering and Alan MacDiarmid, a joint winner of the Nobel Prize for chemistry. Obviously, our scientists can foot it with the best. Yet their work is more widely valued overseas than here. What is needed is a national scientific ethos that places a realistic, and rightful, value on this work.
The extent of that value was apparent this week when the winners of the first MacDiarmid Young Scientists of the Year Awards were named. The main award went to Andrew Rudge, a Canterbury University doctoral student, who has developed a system of delivering painkillers that may help accident victims recover faster. His breakthrough is being hailed as the first time that anyone has found a solution to the inappropriate sedation of critically injured patients. Worldwide, it has the potential to save billions of dollars that would be spent on wasted drugs.
The awards represent a step towards providing up-and-coming scientists with the profile they warrant. Undoubtedly, some will be tempted to follow their famed predecessors and venture to the hotbeds of international research. New Zealand cannot compete with the most prestigious of these centres. But it can, and must, provide an environment that encourages work in niche research areas.
Mr Rudge's work shows what can be achieved, and the extent of the potential benefit to this country. He, and others, will be less inclined to go overseas if they believe they can achieve as much here. A widespread appreciation of their work helps to keep them in New Zealand. It is time for us to put scientists back on a pedestal. One not so high, however, that they are out of touch.
<i>Editorial:</i> Time to polish up the scientific halo
AdvertisementAdvertise with NZME.