Ethics on the laboratory floor

Over the last 10 years – partly as a response to prior difficulties with the introduction of technologies into society – various governmental agencies and corporate entities in the USA and Europe began an ambitious effort to “embed” ethicists, philosophers, and other humanists and social scientists within sites of technology production. The aims of this effort are varied but include: encouraging responsible research and innovation; bringing about an awareness of possible ethical issues to help shape (rather than react to) resultant technologies; investigating the ethical, legal, and social issues (ELSI) introduced by these technologies; and creating desirable, ethical futures. In Ethics on the Laboratory Floor, Simone van der Burg and Tsjalling Swierstra bring together a distinguished group of contributors to highlight this movement of ethics researchers into the laboratory. The compilation is not only timely, but it is also thorough and provides an accurate snapshot of the vanguard of applied ethical research in science and technology.

After the introduction, the book's remaining 11 chapters are divided into three sections: the first (Chapters 1–4) focuses on theoretical perspectives on the introduction of ethical researchers into the laboratory; the second (Chapters 5–9) consists of case studies that highlight and develop many of the claims made in the first section; and the last section (Chapters 11–12) explores the possible limitations of bringing ethics into the laboratory setting. This division strikes a good balance between theory and concrete case studies. I will explore each section in turn.

Part I: theory

The four core theoretical chapters of the volume are the most ambitious as they lay out several broad themes. Three of the most interesting ones from the first three chapters are inter-related: (1) the importance of imagination when faced with moral, epistemic, and normative uncertainties in the development of future technologies – particularly a cultivated imagination that navigates between falling victim to wild speculation and being lured into doing the bidding of powerful external (e.g. economic) forces; (2) the pervasive call for synchronic ethical reflection to accompany – rather than assess ex ante or post hoc – different stages of the research and development (R&D) process; and (3) the attempt to classify current ethics-in-the-lab research to uncover productive methodologies that allow for the inclusion of ethics researchers in the design of common futures.

Imagination and calls to reflection are closely linked, since one of the recognized limitations in R&D is the inability of researchers to accurately predict future states from present ones. It is precisely this limited capacity to imagine future technological states that leads Bensaude-Vincent (Chapter 1) to move away from a checklist of ELSI to an approach that fosters reflection and ethical judgment on the part of all researchers by focusing on the design of objects. Similarly, Grunwald (Chapter 2) moves away from purely speculative ethics and instead calls for frequent “epistemic reflection”. Imagination features prominently in Boenink's presentation (Chapter 3) of the activities of ethicists as they interpret the values at stake in given ethical situations, “imagining how the meaning of these values might shift” (59). For Boenink, the job of identifying and aligning very different considerations is an “inherently creative” (69) one that depends on the imaginative capacities of researchers. While she recognizes the importance of reflection, Boenink ultimately sees current “activities to stimulate reflection on the societal and moral implications for on-going R&D” (76) as unproductive. In fact, her attempt to create a system of classification of research methodologies is prompted by a desire to expand the imaginative capacity of researchers, allowing them to see, assess, and experiment with the different approaches taken toward ethics on the lab floor. By “enabling future ethicists to distinguish different parts of the work [performed in labs] and to grasp how they might be ordered and combined” (76), Boenink hopes to guide reflection in a systematic way that leads to deeper insights. Indeed, corralling much of the boots-on-the ground work done by embedded ethicists in an effort to give shape to the research activities, results, and most importantly, the methodologies emerging from these in-the-lab investigations is not an easy task, and I found her system of classification extremely useful.

There are slight (but important) variations on this theme of classification in the other chapters in this first section. These other characterizations group the activities of ethics researchers in the lab broadly into: (1) specifying/discovering and identifying/classifying; (2) clarifying/probing/making more transparent; (3) converging/offering a treatment or plan of action; and finally (4) building reflective activity into each stage of the R&D process. For instance, Bensaude-Vincent characterizes the role of the ethics researcher as primarily uncovering metaphysical assumptions to “clarify the implicit moral agenda embedded in the design of technoscientific objects” and “enhance the reflection of scientists on moral aspects by initiating a collective process of deliberation” (32). Grunwald's classification is slightly different, as he sees ethicists trying to (a) “discover and uncover situations in which responsibility reflection are required [like a] … ‘watch dog’ or ‘tracker dog’” (48), (b) clarify situations via their “well-known problem-solving and research abilities” (50), and (c) provide treatment options since decisions have to be made and the ethicist can provide expert knowledge about the normative assumptions of the above approaches. Of these three roles, Grunwald sees acting as a “watch dog” as the most important since no clarification or treatment is possible without prior identification. After providing considerable conceptual structure, Grunwald reverts to an older model of regulation that he thinks aids in the close cooperation between ethicists and other researchers in the lab. This reversion is surprising since much of the impetus for embedding ethics researchers in the lab came from the belief that having someone looking over the shoulders of researchers was not conducive to close collaboration. An important difference from earlier model, however, is that rather than identifying problems in the end stages of R&D, the ethicist in Grunwald's schema is now prompting “responsibility reflection” throughout, and especially early in, the process.

Boenink's classificatory scheme is the most explicit and takes a “mid-level” or midstream perspective (cf. Fisher et al. 2006) that looks at actual lab practices and refocuses on what ethicists actually do on the lab floor and on how they do it. As she writes, “it is time to go beyond the self-justifying character of the current ‘ethics in the laboratory’ literature and to reflect on the actual practices of doing ethics in the laboratory” (58). Her own classification divides ethicists' lab activities into five categories: specifying, reconstructing, probing, broadening, and finally, converging and aligning. Beyond classification, Boenink's overall approach is comparative, looking for family resemblances and differences between lab activities to assess differential effectiveness by proceeding through them linearly or in different orders, introducing “jumps, feedback loops and reorderings” (72). Her conclusions are limited because the activities she examines blend into one another in practice and are not exhaustive of what goes on in the laboratory (as she herself recognizes (59)). More importantly, the number of case studies is too small to draw reliable and robust conclusions, but this situation is to be expected in a nascent field of research. Certainly, the partial conclusions that there is more than one right way of doing ethics in the laboratory floor and that “methodological lessons need to be pooled” (77) in order to assess benefits and hindrances to lab practices are both plausible.

In distinction from the conclusions reached by Grunwald, Verbeek's contribution (Chapter 4) suggests that the role of the ethicist of technology should be shifted from a “focus on ‘assessing’ technologies towards ‘accompanying’ their development, implementation and use” (79). Building from the work of Latour (1993) and Foucault (1997, 2010) he asserts that, “[e]thics should not focus on defending the boundaries between humanity and technology, but on governing their intertwinement” (81). Verbeek embraces a post-phenomenological approach in which human practices and experiences are always and necessarily technologically mediated and where there is no “outside” position from which ethics can stand separately and analyze (82). There are many theoretical commitments one has to embark upon to fully embrace such a project, and it is not clear that we need to take on a full Foucauldian or Latourian perspective in order to arrive at the same conclusions that Verbeek eventually gets to: ethicists should be allowed to work together with scientists and other researchers as equals in shaping our future. In fact, it is not clear who is arguing to keep these ethicists out. Nonetheless, if one were to choose to embrace these theoretical commitments, as Verbeek clearly has, his contribution does a commendable job of showing what such a project might look like.

Part II: case studies

The case studies present material with which to assess the validity and applicability of the theories presented in the earlier section. By looking at the “ancestry” of photoacoustics and photo-optics, van der Burg (Chapter 5) hopes to discern “part of the moral characteristics of these technologies” (103). Her belief – that “a genealogy of a new technology, which reveals the performance of the technological ancestors to a new technology, could offer valuable information” (106) – is potentially fruitful, but a great deal hinges on the caveat “could”. Although there is no guarantee that new technologies will bear much similarity to past instantiations, it is probably not a bad idea to trace a prior developmental path to “make clearer what the ‘something’ is that is being researched” (107). Here, van der Burg's work models Boenink's emphasis on being explicit so as to see the clearest path forward. Perhaps the most interesting and innovative part of her contribution though, is her discussion of an “educated imagination” that an ethicist needs to cultivate. Herein lies the great challenge and promise of an embedded ethicist who tries to extend “an erudite acquaintance with research on similar technologies that are researched elsewhere, and technologies that are already being used” (108) to a clearer insight for how current research might proceed forward. Educating one's own imagination and those of the researchers is a daunting task for the ethicist, and while we can hope that a technology's “characteristics” (110) are present and discernable in its ancestry, there are simply no guarantees that this process will work. In the end, this account is a hopeful one, and a fine way to prime the imaginative pump should ethical research get stuck in the trenches of the lab.

Chapter 6 is a case study of the artificial synthesis of bacterial flagellar motors written by Xavier Guchet, who wants to challenge ethical approaches that are framed in terms of the impacts of technology on society (e.g. value-sensitive design and constructive technology assessment (CTA)) by offering “another kind of entanglement of technology and society” (115). Implicit in this move is the embrace of a “prospective ontology” in which all actors “see their objects of research as ‘prospectives’ of a future valuable world” (117). To this end, Guchet employs two methodological tools: the first involves having a team of philosophers and scientists working on the project read the same texts with the end goal of providing “scientists with concepts that could allow them to better qualify the objects they deal with” (121); the second comprises a comparative approach that couches a particular research group's agenda and goals against a backdrop of alternative research and design strategies (121). Both tools produce differentially successful results ranging from comparisons that are not really relevant to those which might be illuminating. Guchet's proposal that philosophers “provide scientists with a specifically philosophical ethos” (128) thus hinges simply upon the contingent, alternative design strategies available at a given time to a particular research group.

Wickson (Chapter 7) joins a lab engaged in the more classical “impact” methodology of ecotoxicology that assesses environmental effects of genetically modified organisms. Of all the case studies, Wickson's is notable for her daring to actually befriend the researchers, taking up the laboratory's methods and research protocols and actively participating in the team's goals. This hands-on, “trading zone” (Galison 1997) methodology – when most successful – produces organic and concrete interactions that reveal shared sympathies and shape future thinking on ethical and scientific issues for all engaged parties (Tuma 2013). At least a partial result to this end is noted by Wickson's observation that her conversations with lab members built “an understanding of each other and encourag[ed] reflexivity within both of [their] research processes” (144–145). This result is an important one, as is the observation that her mere presence in the lab seems to affect ethical thought and the behavior of researchers who now have ethics on their mind (140). Furthermore, because of the personal ties she cares to cultivate, one gets the sense that Wickson's work has the potential for very long-lasting influence on the researchers in the lab. Of course, like all single lab studies, her results are limited, especially since personal relationships are time-intensive and she actively engages with only a limited number of lab members. Wickson readily admits that the potential of such engagement is less about altering the type of research being conducted and more “about building an understanding of the realities of risk-based research practice and thereby enhancing reflexivity about the role it currently plays in technology assessment processes” (147). (Whether such reflexivity is too narrow to produce real results within the larger scope of science and technology policy is taken up in Nordmann's concluding chapter.)

The case study on Immunosignaturing (ImSg) – an emerging technology for early diagnosis and health monitoring – presented by Federica Lucivero (Chapter 8) characterizes the lab floor as a “rich ground and a stable springboard for ethicists to initiate an epistemologically sound reflection on the ethical, legal, and social issues related to emerging technologies” (152); her approach is “situating and thickening”. Essentially, she takes a historical perspective (cf. Chapter 4) and specifies, reconstructs, and probes (cf. Chapter 3) the history and evolution of ImSg to “differentiate projects and visions that are clustered and undistinguishable in researchers' discourses”, concluding that an “ELSI reflection can therefore be more vision-specific and avoid implausible generalisations” (157). Whereas, an emerging object or artifact of technology is often given to the general public as a simplified abstraction, by going into the laboratory and seeing the creation of this object “the laboratory offers interesting access to expectations in which the history and making of the artifact is still visible” (163). For Lucivero, what the ethicist can best do in the lab is “make explicit the meaning of metaphors and point out technical conditions that change the discourse” (164) and provide appropriate feed back to ultimately “guide scientists in making decisions about desirable innovation paths” (165). This method is the watchdog from within, and the merits and results of such a micro-approach (cf. Chapter 7) can be contrasted with the macro-approach advocated in the remaining chapters of the book.

Krabbenborg (Chapter 9) uses CTA tools to design and orchestrate “a dramatic rehearsal around changing (societal) values, roles and responsibilities occasioned by the lithium chip” (169). The introduction of this “dramatic rehearsal” (cf. Dewey 1957) into CTA workshops is termed CTA + and is supposed to anticipate the co-evolution of science, technology, and morality during the R&D phase of newly emerging technologies. Krabbenborg reshapes Dewey's model of dramatic rehearsal into a “virtual” one to “fit better with the socio-technical dynamics of the twenty-first century” (174). Such a reformulation misses much of what Dewey aims at when he has participants stake in real life and under conditions of distress and uncertainty, their moral values, norms, and responsibilities. Of course, it is understandable that Krabbenborg wishes to amend Dewey's somewhat idealistic, perhaps even naïve, view to better fit with modern practices. Nonethless, it is a mistake to expect the benefits of a Deweyan dramatic rehearsal without the stakes as envisioned by Dewey. What is more, Krabbenborg need not avail herself of the Deweyan framework as what she proposes with her techno-moral future scenarios falls well in-line with methodological frameworks in the philosophy of science that promote model-building or the use of heuristics as virtual tools to guide the imagination and promote discovery (Gigerenzer et al. 1999, Wimsatt 2007). Finally, Krabbenborg's scenarios and interventions do seem to promote reflection on the part of the participants and have real effects on the R&D process (183–184), rendering her theoretical justification less important.

Part III: critical perspectives

The two final chapters of the compilation (Rip, Chapter 10 and Nordmann, Chapter 11) are supposed to serve as critical lenses for the prior two sections. Each chapter, however, is more of a meta-critique rather than targeted at what is new or distinctive about ethics on the lab floor. Both chapters attempt to expand the role of ethics from the lab floor to realms and interactions beyond that of the lab. Such perspectives certainly should be explored, but their inclusion in a compilation about the narrower issue of ethics on the lab floor seems a bit out of place. Nevertheless, both chapters do serve to contextualize what ethicists who are working in the contested spaces of laboratory floors are up against when they bring their research into science and technology debate and policy-making. For instance, Rip's suggestion that ethics is only part of a broader class of human norm regulating activity is worthy of attention, especially if ethicists were claiming to have privileged access to claims of normativity. However, it is not clear that any of the prior authors make such claims. In many ways, Rip's proposal is truer to the spirit of Dewey than is Krabbbenborg's, at least to the extent that ethical “[i]nteractions and practices … become more articulated through action [and] these actions are played out in multi-actor, multi-level processes full of uncertainties” (205). Rip also goes on to amend Dewey by expanding ethics to include all normativities suggesting that “[p]ragmatist ethics may be able to capture the normativities involved, but has to overcome its micro-level focus” (205). His somewhat cynical conclusion that the “temptation to specify must be resisted because in interaction with the demands from technology actors it would lead to versions of checklist ethics, reducing the richness of pervasive normativity”, however, does not follow. Nonetheless, Rip's characterization of “normative reflection”, his highlighting of the value of such reflexivity, and his suggestion of higher-order levels of normativity all serve as a nice rubric with which to assess the involvement of enactors in the R&D process.

Nordmann's concluding contribution (Chapter 11) worries about the potentially reduced scope of having ethics limited to the laboratory, pointing out that such accounts miss a great deal and may serve as an excuse to ignore larger questions of science and technology policy. Yet none of the authors in the volume have argued for ethics in the lab to the exclusion of ethics elsewhere, and none has asserted that futures are made exclusively in lab spaces. Nonetheless, Nordmann proposes a grander vision of an “ethics of design” that “ties the work of researchers and developers back into a larger societal process” (222). He wants a reorientation from the ethics of research to the politics of research, from a narrow space where things or actions are deemed to be good, or appropriate or right to a wider sphere where these things are debated openly and publicly. While I certainly think such a suggestion is worthy of consideration and debate, I do question the editorial decision for its inclusion in a volume the focus of which seems intentionally narrower. Certainly, there are plenty of other critical issues to discuss regarding ethics in the lab as presented in the theory and case study sections of the volume.

Conclusion

The number of applied ethical researchers in labs is small, and this collection can at times feel a bit insular with several of the contributors referencing one another's work. This situation is not unusual in a nascent field, but it may be something an outside reader would want to consider before stepping into its midst. The payoffs to such efforts are that the book as a whole is stimulating, the scholarship cutting edge, and the breadth of topics covered impressive. Embedded applied ethics as documented in Ethics on the Laboratory Floor is, from the perspectives of developing theory and accumulating interesting case studies, off to an encouraging start.

http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/23299460.2014.882555