What did the March for Science stand for?

On April 22, 2017, over 100,000 scientists, engineers, students, and people concerned for the scientific enterprise marched in mass demonstrations in major cities and more than a few small towns and even remote research stations in support of science. Why did they do this—such an uncharacteristic act for scientists? What did the March for Science stand for? How could something as abstract as support for science motivate 40,000 people in Washington, DC, to turn out in chill, rain, and mud? Why did the March have such special meaning for environmental health sciences that it was held on Earth Day and our field was so prominently featured among the sciences?

The grassroots team that organized the March did not design it as a partisan undertaking. Rather, opposition was principally focused on administration policies, which were seen as disruptive to scientific progress, counterproductive to American leadership, obstructionist to global science, and recklessly dangerous in their treatment of climate change, pollution, and public health, specifically. There was indeed an abundance of partisan signs carried by the demonstrators, but they were in the minority. News media coverage of the March on the front page of the New York Times led with a headline emphasizing opposition to the science management policies of the Trump administration, which was precisely what the organizers of the March were trying to avoid. The actual text of the Times article, and coverage in other outlets such as the Washington Post, was more nuanced.

For scientists and engineers to openly dissent and to advocate for science outside of their narrow technical fields is virtually unprecedented in modern history, although it was common in the nineteenth century. The closest recent parallel was the opposition of the “atomic scientists” to nuclear weapons, which generalized only partially to a broader movement for world peace and responsible use of science. That historic movement never became a popular movement (although it coevolved with the campaign for nuclear disarmament) or mobilized a significant number of scientists and their organizations, but the March did. From its inception, the March emphasized acceptance and support of science as a way of knowing and opposed the marginalization of science in society in general as well as in political discourse.

The real story lies in the reasons those policies provoked such outrage and triggered the timing of the protests. The key issue that animated the March was the perception that science represented the observation of objective truth and should be respected for representing the real world and serving as a more reliable guide to analysis and action than faith and personal belief. This may seem blazingly obvious to scientists, and it is depressing that we still have to talk about this, but we truly do.

Questioning science makes it stronger. Rejecting science is to cut the chain to an anchor in reality. To deny the role of science in public policy is to unmoor the leadership of a country from reality, and so to allow articles of faith, prejudice, personal belief, impulse, and propaganda to shape the decisions that will affect future generations. It is to admit the primacy of every value but the value of verifiable truth. All of this may not fit on a demonstrator's placard or make for an easily chanted slogan, but it was the unifying theme of the March, endlessly repeated and restated, and defended from appropriation by the minority that tried to turn the March into an anti-Administration political rally.

The principal example of solipsistic self-delusion about reality, endlessly referred to during the March, was climate change denial, followed at a distance by the anti-vaccination movement (more often referred to as “antivaxxers”). Reference was made repeatedly to cutbacks in support and orders to halt the collection and sharing of environmental monitoring data and health risks as examples of how dangerous blindness to science had become. Deregulation of environmental protection was cited by virtually every speaker (and was the inspiration for many placards) as the single most profound worry about the suppression of science in its implications for the world, and the United States, in particular.

Thus, the emphasis in the March's message of protecting the integrity of science was on the environment and health, making this demonstration as much a movement in favor of our work as a March in opposition to antiscience policies. We should be encouraged by that, while recognizing that there is a risk in raising the support and preference for what we do to a political issue.

Support for the March accelerated rapidly after it was first announced, coming together at record speed for such a huge undertaking—in only five months. However, in the first weeks there was reluctance and even resistance to scientists taking a stand as a community. There was fear that the March would be seen as self-serving and crossing a line of neutrality or lack of objectivity. Scientists and engineers were initially reluctant on the grounds that science should be “above politics,” that science has no bearing on political values, and that “science shouldn't be political.”

However, the truth is that science is inherently political in its implications; it is just not partisan. It can hardly be otherwise. Science's paradigms and habits of mind permeate our culture and thinking; its methods are the way we approach problems of public knowledge; and allocation of funds to support it reflect a political agenda (particularly in health and national security). Politics is how society makes decisions, allocates public resources, and acts collectively for the common good. Science constrains politics by placing limits on what can be done, documenting consequences for actions, and opening opportunities where some would prefer boundaries, limits, and scarcity. Scientific research and knowledge is a public good; support for scientific research and education competes with other public goods for public investment; and at its most relevant, its findings define the outer limits of what is technically feasible and define the tradeoffs that must be weighed or the downside to be expected.

Initially reluctant marchers and sponsoring organizations came around to supporting it mostly because of three factors. First, it became apparent that in the current political regime, science was already politicized and that the only people not participating in the discussions about science were the scientists. Silence by organized science was creating a vacuum that politicians and decision makers were more than happy to fill with partisan politics and personal belief, and this was leading to an existential threat to support and acceptance for science. Young scientists saw this clearly and early while older scientists, such as myself, did not. However, once the existential dimensions of the problem for science became apparent, it was clear that there was no choice: The March had to go forward. A new social movement of scientists had to be supported because it had to succeed.

The greatest significance of the March was not that it changed opinions, although it seems to have, or that it influenced the administration, which it may have. It is that for the first time in a century, scientists as a whole came together to see themselves as a single community. For an instant, we were back in the Enlightenment, where the scientific community was a whole and the promise of advancement seemed unlimited.

Declaration of interest

The views and opinions expressed in this column represent the opinion of the author and not necessarily those of the editors of this journal, the publisher, or other parties.