I put together and ran a one-day pre-conference seminar for AARST last November at NCA where we talked about rhetoric and the politicization of science. In the morning were scholarly presentations that included a rhetorical analysis of the presidential science advisor's construction of "science," a talk about how the National Nanotechnology Initiative's "stakeholder outreach" has largely taken the form of a disingenous pre-emptive counter-mobilization, and examinations of the rhetorical strategies used in the cases of the U.S.'s rejection of the Kyoto Accord, the debate over Terry Schiavo, and the incorporation of ideas from nonlinear dynamics into military doctrine. In the afternoon, Chris Mooney came and talked about "The Republican War on Science," his then-recently published and well-received book. Finally, six relatively well-known rhetoricians (Condit, Campbell, Fahnestock, Miller, Lyne, and Simons) discussed the disciplinary implications of the question of science politicization for rhetoric of science.
In sum: a good day of scholarship, with lots of interesting and thoughtful presentations. I felt pretty good about it. But then a colleague pointed out this comment on the pre-conference to me:
Ulp.
I enjoyed Berube's talk on the NNI at AARST, and so I was a little distressed that his take on the day was a curt "not optimal." But I want to unpack the reasons for his dismissive appraisal, because I think they raise an interesting question (the one foreshadowed by the title of this post).
First he says:
Up front, when you go to the AARST website, there is an ad for AARST thongs at this site (http://www.cafepress.com/aarst.14703376). No comment.
It's clear that this is intended to convey something of the substance of the rest of the post. The phrase "Up front" tells us that we're about to hear a telling initial anecdote. The closing "No comment" tells us that this bit of evidence speaks for itself, that it deserves merely an arched eyebrow and no discussion, explanation, or defense. It is a nice bit of ridicule, and it establishes what Berube wants to assert, which is that these jokers aren't serious.
Of course, the content of the Cafe Press site has absolutely no bearing on what people talked about at the AARST preconference, and whether or not anything worthwhile was said. All we've got so far is an accusation.
Berube goes on:
In general, I left concerned that rhetorical theorists seems more interested in studying historical artifacts than getting their hands dirty in contemporary issues...[F]ew [rhetoricians] seem concerned with contemporary science issues...
Now we are getting to the heart of the matter. On the one hand, you've got rhetorical theorists puttering about effetely in some antiquarian garret; on the other, you've got real work to do in the here-and-now, real work that involves getting your hands dirty.
...except for an impressive group from the University of Colorado's Center for Science and Technology Policy Research (http://sciencepolicy.colorado.edu). Led by a young aggressive assistant professor named Lisa Keranen, her students presented a preliminary analysis examining a speech by John Marburger.
I see two interesting motifs in Berube's complaint. The first is the valorization of the "contemporary" over the "historical." The second emerges from the first, and is a vision of the scholar as hero, as "player," as "operator," actively engaged in shaping and remaking those "contemporary science issues" before they pass into mere history.
So now I'm going round and round. On the one hand, the idea of making a difference in the counsels of the powerful is obviously something to strive for, but I remember Berube's stories at AARST and he seemed to be saying that the social scientists and humanists working for the NNI were there largely to provide political cover and PR acumen for a course of policy that was already decided upon. Instead of the heroic scholar, then, you have an impotent one--in a way that is not at root different from the impotence of the antiquarians.
But back to the first hand, if rhetoric has any value at all it is as a tool for understanding the production of texts, and applying that knowledge to contemporary science (and political!) issues in a way that makes particular speech goals practicable has got to be a major part of the work of rhetoric. And certainly Chris Mooney took that idea away from the AARST conference--I heard him say that one of the things that he was interested in was developing communication strategies that could be used to defend the integrity of science from those who would suborn it to political ends in illegitimate ways. Shouldn't rhetoric of science be after that, too?
What do you think?



Thongs and "historical artifacts"
First, let me say that I own an AARST shirt and wear it proudly. I don't own a thong--AARST or otherwise--but I see nothing wrong with putting the AARST logo on one. Rhetoricians are people, too, and it's nice to be reminded that we do care about things other than dusty tomes.
Speaking of dusty tomes, I wonder how pervasive the objection is to studying "historical artifacts." My last paper was on Louis Pasteur's rhetoric. My current research is on Antoine Lavoisier. Pasteur saved millions of lives with his rhetoric. The germ theory of disease had been around for almost three hundred years before Pasteur started doing research on it; only the power of his rhetoric brought it to international attention and resulted in a health care revolution. I think it's worthwhile and instructive to see how he did that.
Lavoisier's rhetoric is interesting partly because, unlike most modern scientists, he was knowledgeable about the history and philosophy of science, and he was trained in rhetoric. The preface to his Elements of Chemistry explicitly details his organizational strategy and explains his goal in connecting scientific language and scientific method. I find it fascinating to consider how close Lavoisier (or anyone else) could come to reaching his ideal.
But in considering these questions, I am working largely from historical artifacts--the notebooks left by Lavoisier and Pasteur, partial drafts, finished papers, comments written by their peers, and so forth.
If my answers related only to the work of historical scientists, then I might see how one might reasonably question this kind of research. (Or I might not. Many of our colleagues in other departments routinely study historical texts.) As long as the answer are relevant to rhetoric as a whole and science as a whole, however, I see no problem with it.
Does anyone, really?