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DISTRIBUTING RESPONSIBILITY BETWEEN INSTITUTIONS

7. VOCATION

7.3 ORGANISATIONAL CONSEQUENCES

7.3.4 DISTRIBUTING RESPONSIBILITY BETWEEN INSTITUTIONS

As soon as they got the interpretation, they were not worried anymore and even agreed. Roughly the same interpretation as I put forward here. As I have already described in ‘being critical’ (7.1.3), the juniors feel that it is quite difficult to learn the appropriate level of criticism. They simply have difficulties in knowing when something is ‘true’ enough. Usually, they are more rigorous and critical – just to be on the safe side – than the seniors think necessary. Looking at this phenomenon again in relation to boundary work, another dimension can be added to this picture of insecurity. Not only is the responsibility for the truth something they need to learn and contextualise in specific situations. At the same time, they need to maintain that they are noble, trustworthy and deserve to do autonomous science. The grand and shared stories about scientific virtues are not necessarily compatible with ordinary organisational work life to someone just starting out on a scientific career. But as the juniors have learned to be honest and respect ‘the truth’ since the beginning of their university lives, they do not look favourably at the specific everyday setting they are part of.

So on the one hand, the responsibility to be precise sets the scientists apart as a special profession, which takes responsibility for the truth and not just having ‘black numbers on the bottom line’. On the other hand, being a member of this special profession also feeds the insecurity related to the standards for good work among the junior staff. The mode of Vocation does not only produce rigorous work, an understanding of time as precious resource and an identity as a noble professional, it also produces a large amount of insecurity for those learning to conduct themselves in this system.

‘…generate and perform distributions, defining or embodying a characteristic approach to what might, does or should pass from whom to what under what circumstances’ (Law 1994: 119 original emphasis).

This effect is something I have observed being performed as part of Vocation. In this case, the objects that are to be distributed are different forms of responsibility and the actors between whom the responsibilities should be distributed are the state’s different institutions, namely, those of science and politics.

The exact conceptions of the best forms of distribution vary a little. At times, the scientists believe that both the responsibility for the truth and for deciding how to act on that knowledge should be bestowed upon them. This is, for instance, the case where Clark states that he (and scientists in general) are in the optimal position to make decisions concerning how society’s big problems should be handled, as they (scientists) are ‘better informed’ about the problems. He also acknowledges that politicians could partake in that responsibility, but he is still sceptical

because he does not think they have sufficient knowledge to do so. At other times, the distribution between state actors looks different. The scientists still have the responsibility for ‘the truth’, but they refrain from taking the responsibility for what is to be done with their knowledge. For instance, Annie explains, as I showed, that it is her responsibility to state in the papers that her findings could be used to construct biological weapons, but it is the politicians and other actors’ responsibility to figure out what needs to be done in relation to that risk. While the scientists in both examples believe they have the responsibility for the truth, it varies if they believe that this responsibility also grants them responsibility for how society should act as a consequence.

Either way, the way the scientists consider the distribution of responsibility between science and politics shares some similarities with the way Shapin (2009) conceives of the relations between science and the state after the Second World War and in the first decade of the Cold War. Shapin explains that scientists had never been as entangled in societal matters as after the Hiroshima bombings, which led to ambivalence about the merits of the scientific profession. Some celebrated the development of the atomic bomb as a victory for both science and democracy – without it the war in the Pacific Ocean would have continued. Others were deeply ashamed that science had played a decisive part in developing such a lethal technology; others again saw it as being out of the profession’s hands. They might have developed the technology, but it was not their choice as how to use it (Shapin 2009: 65). While this debate went on – also among scientists far from experimental physics – the conditions for conducting science had never been more favourable in Shapin’s opinion. He describes how public science received almost limitless amounts of funding, both for basic and applied science. This also meant a fast expanding job market for academics. Furthermore, science had, via its engagement in the wars, gained access to political circles, where they found themselves wielding power in terms of advising on directions for both scientific exploration and national strategies in areas such as growth and military (Shapin 2009: 64).

In my interpretation, this way of both debating and arranging the role of science in society is mirrored in the ways which Gyro Gearloose and Curious George see the ideal distribution of power between science and politics. As scientists, they have the responsibility for the truth, they should have quite a lot of freedom to take care of that responsibility, and, perhaps, also the power to dictate politics based on their findings.

Either way, knowledge is channelled from science to politics and not so much the other way around. Moreover, it is the distribution of responsibility between the state and public science that is in focus. ‘The public’, for instance, who will be very

apparent in chapter 8, is not given any sort of responsibility here; nor is ‘industry’, which actually played a huge role in the development of scientific work in the post-war years (Shapin 2009: 128). This is solely about the relationship between science and the state.

This way of thinking about the distribution of responsibilities may be highly idealised (also compared to the actual situation after WWII, despite the favourable conditions).

Conveniently, it also grants the profession of science the very privileged position of both being able to take or not take responsibility for further outcomes. But it is still interesting how the ideas about distribution of responsibilities, to some extent, are also an institution with historical roots, which can be traced back to the decades after WWII. In my interpretation, these distributions of responsibilities between public actors are the way that Vocation constructs science’s role in society. Society is considered as ‘made up’ of rather stable institutions with distinct responsibilities.

Science is supposed to deliver advanced and new knowledge – also basic science – and a work-force to these other institutions. But in order to do so, they need a good amount of funding and relatively free hands. I will compare this view of science’s role in society with those expressed in Oikos and Citizenship in the next chapters.

Here I will move on to the last considerations about Vocation, before the conclusion.

The first of them shows how Vocation’s responsibilities are weighted against other concerns in the two labs and is as such not pure. The second takes up considers the differences in how Vocation is performed across the two labs. The two sections are therefore also ways of addressing the questions of methodology and generalisations.