Fear of marketers in white coats: a response to Daniel Akst

Written by Andrew Rens on December 21st, 2011

Over at the American Daniel Akst is holding forth on the ignorance, and concomitant fear of science on the part of what Akst terms the chattering classes.*

Referring to the quasi-religious nature of bourgeoisie pre-occupations with food he claims: “Food is at the center of elites’ anxieties about science and modernity, yet the truth is that it has become a scapegoat, or perhaps I should say scapetofu, for a host of imaginary sins we associate with technology. The timing of this obsession is no surprise; never before has such complex technology occupied such a central place in the economy, to say nothing of daily life.”

He goes on to claim that the roots of this suspicion lie in ignorance, narrow specialisation and, citing the ambivalent history of nuclear technology, the negative consequences of some technologies. He intimates that concerns about the unintended consequences of knowledge amount to a superstition. But something important is missing from his account.

He mentions that at one time asbestos was touted as “a wonder product”. What he does not talk about is that there were reports about negative health outcomes associated with asbestos as early as 1898 but appropriate regulation was introduced in the United States only in 1989. It wasn’t ignorance that caused that delay, it was the desire to make a profit, and the utter failure by regulators to protect the public.

Mining companies continue to refuse the claims of miners whose lungs were irreparably damaged so that those companies could profit. The Anglo American Corporation is one of those, resisting the claims of miners from the Northern Cape while miners die. Payouts to the estates of dead miners are smaller than compensation to living miners.

There are many accounts that Akst ignores in which people were harmed not by  science or technology but by people making money selling poison and the authorities failing to hold them to account. The root of the suspicion that Akst considers needless is not ignorance but knowledge, knowledge not of science but of the kind of world in which we live, a world in which marketers lie glibly, cloaking themselves in the authority of science, a world in which politicians are the creatures of corporations that pay their campaign contributions, a world in which regulations are written to suit the industries being regulated.

Akst writes: “Food irradiation is a great example of a safe, effective technology that could save lives, if only people could get over their terror of it.” But once again Akst fails to mention the larger story. The irradiation of meat is championed by the meat processing industry in the United States because it is cheaper than making sure that meat is not contaminated with faeces during slaughter. Irradiation is intended to kill e.coli that might be present in the faeces of slaughtered animals. Akst suggests that the main question is whether the irradiation is effective or not. But that is not the question. The question is whether you want to eat shit sprayed meat whether not it is irradiated?

*Chattering classes is a termed used by some members of the elite in America and England in a self defeating attempt to suggest that they are somehow exempt from the bourgeoisie triviality suggested by the term while they remain ironically unconscious that only members of the chattering classes use the term.

** E.R.A. Merewether & C. W. Price, “Report on Effects of Asbestos Dust on the Lung” H.M. Stationery Office, 1930

 

The future is already here — it’s just not very evenly distributed (Law and New Technologies 3)

Written by Andrew Rens on November 8th, 2011

In two previous posts I’ve discussed the need for (re)thinking the relationship of law and technology and the difficulty of knowing what we speak about when we speak about  ‘technology’.

The problem that law (or perhaps it is lawyers) has with new ‘technologies’ stems from law’s orientation in time; law changes relatively slowly, and law is orientated towards the past. The result is three related sources of dissonance.

“The strongest impacts of an emergent technology are always unanticipated. You can’t know what people are going to do until they get their hands on it and start using it on a daily basis, using it to make a buck and u­sing it for criminal purposes and all the different things that people do.”

Those are the words of William Gibson in a recent interview in The Paris Review.

The result is that any prediction of how a particular new technology will change the future must necessarily be wrong, probably in important ways. That gap between prediction and experience has become a feature of the present. Gibson’s own career illustrates the point nicely, he co-founded a movement in science fiction writing that was critical of the simultaneously bland and triumphalist vision of (white, male and wealthy) scientists ruling humanity and conquering the physical universe. Gibson opposed a dystopian future to the utopian futures popular in science fiction at that time. Three decades later he sets his work in (a slightly alternative) present, a present characterised by the same ambivalence about the products of human ingenuity, and the same expectation gap between those who first introduce those products and how others experience them. Or in Gibson’s own words: “The future is already here — it’s just not very evenly distributed.”

We could call that the prediction or expectation problem. Both positive and negative outcomes cannot be completely predicted and so a cost/benefit analysis of a particular rule just isn’t possible.

While being unable to predict negative outcomes is problematic it is unexpected positive outcomes that far more difficult. That is because in any economy those who are currently most successful and thus have the most money and power are also those who business models are likely to be disrupted by new technologies that simultaneously introduce greater efficiencies and eliminate their profit margins. This is a type of collective action problem. An economy may gain efficiencies and most people stand to benefit, but a small wealthy and powerful group stand to lose that very wealth and power. This could be called the Hercules problem; only if a new technology or firm is strong enough to survive the attempt to strangle it at birth can it survive long enough to be valued.

A third problem is that new technologies often raise novel ethical issues. Is it ethical for employers to monitor the private email of employees? Should patents be awarded over human genes. Society, the collective of people in whose interests laws are (avowedly) made, hasn’t yet had time to develop a consensus on such difficult issues. This could be called the ethical-consensus problem.