Guardian columnist George Monbiot was nearly headbutted by Lady O’Neill last Tuesday night, all because they disagreed on the extent to which scientific data should be released. That a public debate nearly ended in a baroness nutting a journalist pantomimes the passions around freedom of information.
At the Index on Censorship debate, entitled “Is transparency bad for science?”, panellists discussed the Protections of Freedom Bill. The proposed law plans to amend the Freedom of Information Act to require public bodies that respond to a request for data to publish it “in an electronic form which is capable of re-use”.
Lady O’Neill argued for cautious release of data collected by scientists and suggested that someone would have to decide by whom the data should be reusable. “What is the value of this openness?” she asked.
Monbiot said the Baroness’s concern over to whom data should be released “is not a fair question”. “If it’s open,” Monbiot argued, “it should be open to all.”
The near-headbutting incident was down to the question of whether Lady O’Neill thought that the person who decides about who will access the data should be the scientist who collected it in the first place or a third party. Monbiot thought he heard her say the former; Lady O’Neill clarified that she meant the latter.
Scuffle aside, on the wider issue Monbiot is right. Data is either free or it is not. The history of the Internet, and what is becoming the story of modern times, is that freedom of information leads to great things. Just this year, the flow of information helped to bring down corrupt governments across North Africa. As in the August riots, information can always be misused or hijacked by ideology and troublemakers, but this does not mean it is right to hide it from the public.
But not publishing scientific data will not be acceptable in a modern Britain.
And neither should a tempered release be, even if a lot of the data from a particular study is junk by the scientists’ own admission. Mark Walport, director of the Wellcome Trust, pointed out that “raw data is a bit like raw sewage”, an argument he used to back up Lady O’Neill’s argument that release should come about after careful consideration.
Some people will undoubtedly misinterpret data, but the risk of that happening should not outweigh the right of taxpayers to see the fruits of the scientific research they fund. Instead, the release of scientific data can serve to educate the wider public. Even if the facts are misreported, the net effect thanks to free speech and a responsible media is that the public knows more. In the final analysis, Climategate shows both how rational scientists work and that the media can create a storm through ignorance.
Hiding scientific evidence and discussion from a public that funds it serves only to keep knowledge down.
Image courtesy of C. Frank Starmer
climategate, open data, Scary, Comment.
Why are we banging heads over public access to scientific data?
By Adam SmithGuardian columnist George Monbiot was nearly headbutted by Lady O’Neill last Tuesday night, all because they disagreed on the extent to which scientific data should be released. That a public debate nearly ended in a baroness nutting a journalist pantomimes the passions around freedom of information.
At the Index on Censorship debate, entitled “Is transparency bad for science?”, panellists discussed the Protections of Freedom Bill. The proposed law plans to amend the Freedom of Information Act to require public bodies that respond to a request for data to publish it “in an electronic form which is capable of re-use”.
Lady O’Neill argued for cautious release of data collected by scientists and suggested that someone would have to decide by whom the data should be reusable. “What is the value of this openness?” she asked.
Monbiot said the Baroness’s concern over to whom data should be released “is not a fair question”. “If it’s open,” Monbiot argued, “it should be open to all.”
The near-headbutting incident was down to the question of whether Lady O’Neill thought that the person who decides about who will access the data should be the scientist who collected it in the first place or a third party. Monbiot thought he heard her say the former; Lady O’Neill clarified that she meant the latter.
Scuffle aside, on the wider issue Monbiot is right. Data is either free or it is not. The history of the Internet, and what is becoming the story of modern times, is that freedom of information leads to great things. Just this year, the flow of information helped to bring down corrupt governments across North Africa. As in the August riots, information can always be misused or hijacked by ideology and troublemakers, but this does not mean it is right to hide it from the public.
But not publishing scientific data will not be acceptable in a modern Britain.
And neither should a tempered release be, even if a lot of the data from a particular study is junk by the scientists’ own admission. Mark Walport, director of the Wellcome Trust, pointed out that “raw data is a bit like raw sewage”, an argument he used to back up Lady O’Neill’s argument that release should come about after careful consideration.
Some people will undoubtedly misinterpret data, but the risk of that happening should not outweigh the right of taxpayers to see the fruits of the scientific research they fund. Instead, the release of scientific data can serve to educate the wider public. Even if the facts are misreported, the net effect thanks to free speech and a responsible media is that the public knows more. In the final analysis, Climategate shows both how rational scientists work and that the media can create a storm through ignorance.
Hiding scientific evidence and discussion from a public that funds it serves only to keep knowledge down.
Image courtesy of C. Frank Starmer
climategate, open data, Scary, Comment.