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Researchers can no longer write scientific papers just for their colleagues.
All sorts of other people, including antivivisection and animal welfare
campaigners, increasingly scrutinise published papers in an attempt to judge
whether research meets an acceptable ethical standard. For instance, in
1990 the RSPCA and FRAME, the Fund for the Replacement of Animals in Medical
Experiments, surveyed some 300 papers published in the late 1980s involving
experiments on monkeys in Britain. The British Union for the Abolition of
Vivisection and Animal Aid have also used the scientific literature to launch
local campaigns against particular universities or charitites funding experiments
on animals. Most recently, Advocates for Animals have scanned the literature
to uncover experiments which the organisation claims should not have been
authorised by the Home Office.

These reports have all questioned the ethical standards of researchers,
the journals publishing the research, the grant bodies supporting the work
and the judgment of the Home Office inspector who issued a project licence
for the work.

These varied attempts to make an ethical judgment on a piece of research
suffer from a serious flaw – they rely solely on scientific papers for information
about the experiments. But the research reports were never intended to justify
a particular use of animals. They were meant simply to report, purely from
the point of view of the science, the purpose, method, results and interpretation
of those results, for those who are also in that area of research.

This format is no longer sufficient today when so many people are questioning
the justification for a particular experiment on animals. Moreover, including
such a justification in scientific papers could also make for better science,
and sometimes even save animals from unnecessary, avoidable suffering.

The FRAME/RSPCA report found that the data recorded by scientists is
often woefully inadequate. For instance, more than one paper failed to reveal
which species of monkey had been experimented upon. The critiques produced
by the antivivisec-tion organisations also revealed scientific omissions.
Information about animal handling and care was often incomplete, or obscure,
or so bland as to be meaningless; certainly it would be impossible for any
researchers reading the paper to repeat the work accurately in their own
laboratory. By not giving adequate information about the species, strain
and sex of animals, as well as husbandry and caging conditions, the animal
‘model’ cannot be effectively reproduced elsewhere. And because scientific
papers also neglect to give details of successes and failures encountered
in the early stages, other scientists using the model may well be unaware
of what is likely to go wrong, leading to needless suffering.

Moreover, the omission of any mention of adverse effects associated
with certain procedures, or the methods of post-operative care, leads critics
of animal research to assume the worst – that adverse effects were severe
and were left untreated. This omission also handicaps other scientists trying
make sense of the findings, as the results could have been influenced by
the ill effects or steps taken to lessen them – through the use of a specific
anaesthetic, painkiller or euthanasia, for instance.

So what should an ethically informed scientific paper include? The introduction
should justify the use of animals for the specific area of research, particularly
when the number of animals used seems high or when the pain and distress
involved is ‘moderate’ or ‘substantial’. This should include an account
of why the animal cannot be replaced, why it was necessary to use that species
of animal, and why animals judged to be of lower orders would not have been
equally good.

Most scientific papers also contain a section called ‘materials’. Many
people are now concerned over the use of words that imply that animals are
objects that lack sentience – words such as the animal ‘preparation’, the
animal ‘model’, or ‘harvesting’ of tissues. The use of the word ‘materials’
may similarly serve to distance the scientist from the animal. It might
be better to have a separate sub-section called ‘animals’ which describes
their number, species, strain/breed, sex, genetic status, health status
and origin, particularly if caught in the wild. Details of their environment
should also be spelt out, including the humidity and temperature, and the
number of air changes per hour. The paper should also describe ‘enrichment’
objects and exercise times, diet, cage type, bedding, and social isolation
or number per cage or pen and diet. The number and source of animals used
in each experimental group should also be stated and justified.

Under ‘methods’, researchers should also describe the techniques used
in creating the animal model, including any periods of quarantine and acclimatisation,
special training of the animals or staff, the method of anaesthesia and
the nature of care after the experiments along with any ‘tricks of the trade’
that could help others to minimise or avoid any adverse effects on the animals.
The paper should also pass on to readers any scoring systems or special
signs – perhaps noted by the animal technicians or vet – by which animals
were judged to be suffering. It is particularly important to give details
of humane ‘endpoints’ – the stage at which animals were killed to prevent
further suffering – and their justification.

The ‘results’ section must include the results of any early failures
and the reasons for them, to prevent other scientists repeating them. Details
of adverse effects, and the physical or behavioural signs observed, as well
as what was done to alleviate or avoid them, will be extremely useful to
other scientists. And if euthanasia is carried out, it would be useful to
justify the method chosen.

The paper should end with a discussion of the animal model and its usefulness
for the proposed study. Similarly, the authors should discuss the effectiveness
of any scoring system to assess suffering, painkillers used, whether the
experiment was correctly assigned a ‘severity banding’ in the project licence,
and it should include any recommendations for future use.

Finally, authors should give an early draft of the paper to all those
involved in the project, even those who are not cited, to ensure that they
agree with the details. These people, who by association are also responsible
for the work, may include personal licensees, vets and animal technicians
in charge of day-to-day care.

Many scientists will reject these proposals on the grounds that it would
be offering the antivivisectionists a stick with which to beat the scientists.
But addressing the issue head on at least provides factual information.
Furthermore, such reporting would show that researchers are concerned about
animals and that they take action to avoid and minimise suffering. The justification
for the research would be plain for all to see, thus helping to allay fears
and suspicions that the research was unjustified.

Regrettably, some antivivisectionists have resorted to violence against
people. Such violence has to stop if we are to hold an open and honest debate
about an area of animal use which arouses such an emotional response in
so many people. Scientific isolationism and arrogance has had its day. Now,
broader consent is needed. If society – not just the antivivisectionists
– deems that a piece of research was not justified, the Home Office and
the scientists will have to reconsider the future of similar work.

David Morton is a vet and is professor of biomedical science and biomedical
ethics at the University of Birmingham.