As a Scientist, How Do you Respond to Opposing Views? – A Piece of Advice From the Past
Science (and scientists) are increasingly confronted with criticism and the political dimension of their work. However, history suggests that not all criticism is the same. Some movements that have challenged scientific authority have ultimately driven social and scientific change. Should we revisit them today?
Historically, the environmental movement and science have had an ambivalent relationship. On the one hand, environmental action relies heavily on science to show how humans are damaging the planet. On the other hand, many activists have seen mainstream science as part of the problem. In the 1970s and 1980s, society was undergoing economic and technological change, and critics argued for alternative approaches to knowledge. At that time, scholars as well as lay people and activists published journals and information materials to promote ‘knowledge from below’ – including arguments for environmental protection.
Today, science is once again at the centre of politically charged debates, whether about the COVID-19 pandemic, the climate crisis or technological development. Looking at past debates can provide valuable insights into how science might position itself, argues historian Nils Güttler, assistant professor for the history of natural sciences at the University of Vienna and member of its Environment and Climate Research Hub (ECH).
Güttler studies how social and activist movements such as the anti-nuclear movement and feminist groups have drawn from what historians of science call counter-knowledge – a kind of solidary criticism of classical science. “These groups represent a form of self-empowerment in relation to scientific knowledge. They argue: We can educate ourselves, form our own judgements, and decide what kind of research we trust,” Güttler explains. Is this rhetoric being revived today?
In a Nutshell
- In the 1970s and 1980s, activists and social movements used counter-knowledge to challenge scientific authority and push for political change.
- Counter-knowledge refers to alternative forms of knowledge developed outside of science.
- Once a tool of the political left, counter-knowledge was adopted by right-wing groups, particularly during the COVID-19 pandemic, and associated with misinformation and scepticism.
- Nevertheless, some criticisms of science may be worth discussing. Evaluating their sources, motivations and forms of and organisation helps to determine their legitimacy.
Why we trust science
In modern society, science has an authority on knowledge because it is trusted to act independently of vested interests, says Güttler, referencing sociologist Pierre Bourdieu. But in the 1970s and 1980s, social movements criticised science for serving (economic) interests rather than the pursuit of pure knowledge. While they believed in the transformative potential of science, they were unhappy with the way it was being done.
“At the time, there was an emergence of counter-universities in areas near nuclear power plants, where critical scientists engaged with the public. Feminist support groups invited medical professionals to discuss reproductive and female health. And in Germany there was even a case where a priest became a self-taught expert on environmental pollution, advising commissions and attending scientific congresses,” says Güttler, citing some examples of counter-knowledge.
Understanding these distinctions is crucial. “For counter-knowledge movements, science was a resource to support political demands, whether in court, in parliamentary hearings, or in public debates. These movements were often driven by personal experience and sought to validate their claims scientifically,” says Güttler. “For many activists, it was not about promoting alternative realities, but about a strong belief in scientific credibility and truth.”
Counter-knowledge and the political right
When Güttler began researching counter-knowledge a decade ago, the term was hardly controversial. But in recent years there has been a shift as the political right has adopted many of its mechanisms. Today, counter-knowledge is often lumped together with misinformation, pseudo-science, and conspiracy theories.
This trend became particularly evident during the COVID-19 pandemic. “Together with my colleagues, I published a book on counter-knowledge in 2020. At the same time, we witnessed that the term took on new connotations and was increasingly linked to science denial and skepticism. The rhetoric once used by left-wing movements was appropriated by right-wing groups and made socially acceptable to new audiences. This includes the idea of being ‘anti-mainstream’ and questioning the political and social construction of facts.”
Does this mean we are witnessing history repeating itself on the other end of the political spectrum?
In a sense, yes, and we should not dismiss the legitimacy of all sceptical movements outright. But Güttler notes that scientists should keep a clear head in this highly emotionalised debate. For example, in most cases it is worth to look at the structure and motivation behind any criticism: is it coming from a grassroots citizens’ initiative? Or is it funded by a corporate think tank as described in Merchants of Doubt by Naomi Oreskes and Erik M. Conway? Answering this can help determine whether engagement is worthwhile.
Choosing when to get involved
When science is accused of serving interests other than truth-seeking, scientists are well advised to pay attention. “Historically, some social movements have emerged as a form of ‘solidary critique’, aiming to reorganise science to make it more democratic and closer to the needs of the population,” Güttler explains. Engaging in productive critique can be valuable, especially for scientists. But where to draw the line?
“Today, debates often take place at a very abstract, global level. But if we focus on specific, local contexts, the conversation becomes less polarised,” says Güttler. “I believe that smaller-scale discussions can be much more productive. For example, in local community initiatives, such as when a neighbourhood in my area is being redeveloped. Here, as a scientist, I can enter the dialogue and contribute my knowledge.”
Such interactions may even change how scientists perceive themselves and are perceived by others – given that they are often seen as being largely disconnected from society.
Hands off politics?
Scientists are used to talking about facts and leaving the more political, strategic things to others. But there are occasions when scientists can speak out, says Güttler. “For us historians of science, one thing is clear: There is no such thing as apolitical science. It is always linked to social and political processes. And while it makes sense to analytically distinguish between the two, the space in between has always existed, and that is why we should actively take care of it.” In other words: Pick your battles wisely.
“Engaging in these debates is particularly important in areas such as environmental policy, which is so closely linked to science – and rightly so! How are politicians supposed to decide about, let’s say, draining a moor without first asking someone who knows about it?” Güttler points out.
So, how should scientists respond to opposing views?
Approaching this question from a historian’s perspective certainly offers a more relaxed attitude, says Güttler. “As a scholar, one can confidently engage with counter-knowledge and take a closer look at it. What claim to genuine discussion and verifiability lies behind certain counterfactuals?” By doing so, the vast majority of criticism can be identified as simple misinformation or as politically and economically motivated – but some may still be worth engaging with.
For Güttler, this kind of sensitivity is the true value of historical research, and of the history of science in particular. Together with historians of science Niki Rhyner (Humboldt University Berlin) and Martin Herrnstadt (University of Bremen), Güttler is currently writing a book that traces the history of counter-knowledge back to the time of the Scientific Revolution of the 16th and 17th centuries. By revisiting past debates, Güttler argues, it becomes clear that in many ways society has already been more deeply engaged with these polarising issues than current discourse might suggest. While it would be a mistake to simply apply past conclusions to current challenges, they can still inspire new answers for today.
About the researcher
Nils Güttler is an assistant professor for the history of the natural sciences at the Department of History at the University of Vienna and a member of its Environment and Climate Research Hub. He studied modern and contemporary history at Humboldt University and the Max Planck Institute for the History of Science in Berlin. Before joining the University of Vienna, Güttler was a researcher at the ETH Zurich. Other academic positions have taken him to the Huntington Library in San Marino near Los Angeles, the Gotha Research Centre at the University of Erfurt and Harvard University.
Güttler’s research focuses on the interface between science and society. He is interested in how scientific knowledge is produced and disseminated in different social and political contexts. For this, Güttler works across a wide range of disciplines, with counter-knowledge and the influence of science on activism being one of his main areas of research.
