The federal government recently announced a reorganization of the National Research Council to make it more “business-led” and industry-focused.
It appears we’re coming full circle to the early 1970s, when Senator Maurice Lamontagne released A Science Policy for Canada, a report proposing Canadian science be directed to “mission-oriented” work rather than “curiosity driven” research. Since then, many politicians have encouraged support for science that serves market interests. I believe we should support science because curiosity and the ability to ask and answer questions are part of what makes our species unique and helps us find our way in the world.
Many scientists support a mythical notion of what makes science innovative. To be “relevant”, they write grant applications as if their work will lead to cures for cancer, new energy forms or salt-tolerant plants, depending on the priorities of funders and governments. This creates the illusion that science proceeds from experiment A to B to C to solution. But we really have no idea what results an experiment will produce. If we did, there would be no point to the experiment.
In 1958, during my genetics studies, we were assigned to critique papers by corn geneticist Barbara McClintock. She painstakingly crossed corn plants, harvesting two crops, first in Indiana then in Mexico. She discovered an amazing and mystifying phenomenon: “jumping” genes that moved from one chromosome location to another, suppressing gene activity wherever they landed. It defied everything we had learned.
Decades later, scientists discovered jumping genes in other organisms, including fruit flies, and found they were useful for studying their development. McClintock was belatedly lionized for her discoveries and ultimately awarded a Nobel Prize in 1983. If her research proposals had been assessed for relevance or potential applications, she wouldn’t have received funding for her early, trailblazing work.
As a graduate student, I also studied the experiments of microbial geneticists Werner Arber and Daniel Nathans, and biochemist Hamilton Smith, who were investigating an esoteric phenomenon: bacteria that resisted infection by viruses called bacteriophages (meaning “eaters of bacteria”).
The bacteria produced enzymes that cut DNA into pieces.
They were called “restriction enzymes” and acted by recognizing specific sequences within the DNA and cutting at that point.
Various bacterial species evolved distinct restriction enzymes, cutting DNA at different sequences.
When the original experiments were carried out, no one could have anticipated that these enzymes would turn out to be critical tools for genetic engineering. It was just good science.
If we’re serious about creating partnerships between science and business, we have to support the best scientists so they are competitive with any around the world. We also have to recognize that innovation and discoveries don’t always come from market-driven research. We should recognize truly internationally groundbreaking work to inspire young people who will grow up knowing they can be as good as scientists anywhere. This takes commitment from governments, more generous grants and long-term support.