For some, politics is a dirty word – either a necessary evil or something to be avoided altogether. For others, it’s the name of the game. What role does politics have to play in modern astronomy?
I suppose first of all, it might help to define what I mean by politics. One definition I read recently said politics is public action for the purpose of personal gain. Patrick Lencioni defines politics as when people say things in order to achieve a secondary effect, not because they really mean what they say. In the Sciences, I might modify it a bit to be when people say or do things that are not based on pure scientific objectives. I’m not sure that’s the right definition, but let’s start with that for now.
What are some examples of politics in astronomy? Well, how about underestimating the price of a new telescope or instrument because you think you can only get X dollars now for your project, when you know you’ll have to come back later for more funds? How about starting a new project not because you think it contains the best science, but because you think you can get money for it?
Now, I suppose it would be naive to say there is no place for politics in astronomy. We certainly have to strive and compete for funding. We have large communities we have to work with and keep happy; we need to keep their interests and culture in mind when we interact with them. Pure scientific objectivity might have to take a back seat occasionally to keeping people working together. Another Lencioni definition of politics (from The Five Dysfunctions of a Team) is when people choose their words and actions based on how they want others to react rather than based on what they really think. This kind of politics certainly doesn’t help team dynamics, but can be useful for building collaborations and bridging cultures (you may not always agree with a cultural norm, but while you’re building a cross-cultural relationship, your scientific objectives might be furthered more effectively if you pay some heed to them).
Going with the second best vendor for a product might provide needed benefits to a collaborative partner, for example, that wouldn’t be realized via the first choice, with only a minor hit on scientific output, price or schedule. These might be cases where scientific objectivity is sacrificed a little to achieve a larger political, or social, end. I have misgivings about these kinds of political compromises, in general, but if not abused, there’s probably a time and place for them. They work best, though, when the scientific loss is acknowledged and compared with the political or social gain.
On the other hand, when we start losing our scientific grounding, things become very dangerous quickly. Our stakeholders rely on our objectivity – that’s our value – scientific objectivity and output. When we show a pattern of sacrificing scientific output for political gain, we lose the very core of what makes us valuable to people. We lose our community’s trust. And when that happens, the temptation can be again to resort to politics to quickly restore some of that lost value, thereby deepening the hole and continuing the cycle.
Compared to the professionals, the ones who have all the money we are often seeking, astronomers are generally extremely poor politicians. This is not a game we’re likely to win. We’re valued for our science – that’s our unique trait and asset and should be our defining characteristic. We sometimes need politics to play nice with our friends, to share the benefits of our efforts, to communicate our results, but when politics starts dictating our science, we lose the very essence of why we exist.
Scot’s seen enough Dog and Pony Shows in astronomy to know that the only people being fooled are the performers themselves. He currently has no dogs nor ponies of his own. He used to have a brine shrimp, but it died.
