The main cause of the concern lies in the marked emphasis given to ‘wealth
creation’ as a basic mission of scientific research. It is true that this
is balanced by references to the ‘quality of life’ but one cannot avoid the
impression that this is seen as a secondary objective. The basic message is
clear: the patient (the British economy) is sick and the cure lies in a
better use of science and technology. Orient our scientific research with
clearer economic objectives and Britain may be able to repeat the Japanese
success story. It is a seductive argument with a grain of truth, but it is a
very small grain.

Once we begin to examine this argument in detail and see how it applies to
the White Paper the simplicity of the assertion disappears in a mass of
complications. Most scientific research and development is funded by
industry, not by government, and economic performance depends ultimately on
marketing, finance and management. The path from a scientific discovery
towards a marketable product is a long and tortuous one, with a very
uncertain outcome.

This is not to deny that science plays a major part in economic development,
or that government policy can affect the outcome. But it is misleading and
dangerous to believe that change in the research carried out in
universities will, by itself, have a major impact on the economy. To raise
false expectations jeopardises the long-term position of science in the
community and it is therefore important not to overplay this aspect of the
White Paper.

It is helpful to keep in mind what it is that industry perceives to be the
essential functions of the scientific research supported by the research
councils and the universities. The first is to carry out the fundamental
and long-term research which industry does not normally support. Secondly,
it provides a reservoir of high-level scientific expertise that can be
consulted. And thirdly, it provides a pool of trained scientists. None of
these objectives benefits from narrow targeting or control. Though some
degree of harmony with the outside world is needed, much of this should
take place automatically as a result of market forces. Government direction
through ‘missions’ should be executed with restraint.

The consensus of the scientific community about the overemphasis on wealth
creation could be summarised by describing the White Paper as a mechanism
for putting industrialists in charge of science, whereas the real need is
for more scientists to be in charge of industry. There are two ways to
bridge the gap, and a good case can be made that, by international
standards, British industry does not have enough scientists and engineers
in top management posts. This in turn is related to our inadequate
investment in R&D and the short-term outlook of many of our leading
companies. Altering this would have more effect on our economy than
tinkering with the research base, and it is disappointing that the White
Paper comes up with no constructive ideas in this direction. Perhaps the
necessary steps are not primarily the responsibility of the Office of
Science and Technology, and we need to look to other government departments
for a lead. While tax incentives are summarily dismissed, it is hard to
believe that the Treasury could not come up with some scheme to alter the
investment climate in Britain.

It was gratifying and reassuring to find the White Paper quoting with
approval the passage from my presidential address where I said: ‘too much
stress on organisational structures may obscure the basic fact that
progress in science depends on the ideas, inspiration and dedication of
individual scientists, not the machinations of councils, committees and
»å±ð±è²¹°ù³Ù³¾±ð²Ô³Ù²õ’.

It follows that the success or failure of the White Paper will be measured
ultimately by the impact it has on working scientists. Here again, financial
gain as a driving force may be misplaced. ÐÓ°ÉÔ­´´s engage in research
primarily because of their intellectual curiosity and an inner drive to
uncover the secrets of nature. Without such motivation they stand little
chance of making significant discoveries. ÐÓ°ÉÔ­´´s are also idealists:
they believe that progress in science is a universal benefit which should be
used to improve the lot of humanity. These are lofty objectives and,
although seldom articulated publicly, they play the role of the Hippocratic
oath and help to bind together the international community of scientists.

All of this sits uncomfortably with narrower commercial or national
objectives. If scientists make a fundamental discovery that leads to a cure
for some malignant disease, what are their rewards? First they will derive
intense satisfaction from having solved a major scientific problem and from
the recognition that this brings; next they will be justifiably pleased that
they have helped to save human lives; finally they may welcome the financial
benefits that accrue to them, their institution or their country. This, I
think, is the natural order of priorities, and to reverse it would be to
pervert and undermine the scientific ethos.

To put commercial objectives above humanitarian or scientific ones would
not only be ethically objectionable but also ineffective. Those who embark
on a scientific career are not attracted by the pursuit of wealth, either as
a personal or as an organisational aim. Those who are interested in money
do not start in the laboratory. If wealth creation were to become an
obsession in science it would discourage and disillusion the potential
scientist of the future. If wealth is the objective why embark on the
difficult and frustrating route of scientific research? There are easier
paths to fortune.

No one denies that it is the duty of government to encourage industry to
make better use of science, but in this there is no single route to
success. It is certainly desirable to improve the movement of people and
ideas from university into industry. The research councils have a here. It
is also healthy to build bridges through joint research projects and
training programmes. But in the last analysis the motivation and basic
structure of industry and in the universities are essentially different.
Each performs according to its own logic and it would be disastrous to
impose on universities and their research scientists a structure and outlook
imported from the business world. If scientists in Britain are to continue
to create the first-class science of which they are capable, they will have
to be treated with appropriate sensitivity.

I hope that those appointed to the key positions in the research council
structure will interpret their remit intelligently and with due concern for
the scientists they support.

Michael Atiyah is director of the Isaac Newton Institute for Mathematical
Sciences at the University of Cambridge, master of Trinity College,
Cambridge, and president of the Royal Society.

It follows that the future of British science depends on our ability
to recruit, educate and train the succeeding generations of scientists and
to provide a scientific environment which will make full use of their talents.
If we fail in this task, no amount of reorganisation will be of any value.

Seen from the point of view of our younger scientists, then, what is
wrong with our present system and what could be done to improve it? Essentially,
the system is oriented too much towards programmes, projects, grants and
not enough towards people. As a result we have a large army of scientists
employed on a succession of short-term grants, mainly as research assistants,
with uncertain career prospects. Over the past decade their numbers have
grown rapidly while the ranks of those with permanent positions have shrunk.
Few university departments now have many lecturers under the age of 40 –
hardly a formula to produce vitality in the institution or encouragement
to the young.

How have we arrived at this crazy situation? The underlying explanation
lies, I believe, in a misconception of the nature of scientific research,
which has been separated from teaching and packaged as something which can
be bought and sold across the counter. Once this has been accepted, normal
commercial practices follow. The accountants take over and the individual
scientist is a disposable item, subject to the whim of market forces.

Consider the typical career pattern of young research scientists. Armed
with hard-earned PhDs, they may, if they are lucky, get a one or two-year
fellowship, after which they are dependent on a succession of short-term
research assistant posts. Well into their thirties they will still be in
a dependent role, subordinate to a senior scientist, and compelled to shape
their research according to the requirements and timescale of the research
grant. At a stage when bold long-term thinking would be natural, they have
to lower their sights: to please their boss, to satisfy the sponsors and
to prepare for the next round of grant applications. And where does this
lead? Secure prospects of becoming an established scientist? A university
lectureship or professorial chair? An attractive post in an industrial
laboratory? Only for a very small minority.

Once upon a time, Britain had universities where the staff taught their
students, trained their successors and conducted research. If British science
has a high international reputation this was the system which nurtured it.
By counting Nobel prizes, or using any number of units of measurement, it
would be easy to justify that system retrospectively; but it was not, in
its time, based on the accounting procedures that are prevalent today.

Ironically, Britain now has an expanding higher educational system (at
least in numbers of students and universities) and a much larger corps of
research scientists, but the separation of the two produces problems for
both. Our universities are being stretched and squeezed, with teaching becoming
their main function, and the research scientists are being treated as an
expendable commodity. The bizarre logic of present policy may lead to research
scientists at the age of 40 being recruited by ‘teaching-only’ universities
– hardly a scenario to attract the next generation of young scientists.

To identify failures is easier than to propose solutions, but there
are a number of steps which could help to bring a better balance into our
system. First of all, research councils and other funding agencies could
shift a significant part of their research support from programmes to individuals.
Five-year fellowships awarded competitively and in generous numbers could
replace the shorter-term grants for research assistants. Such fellowships
already exist (for example those awarded by the Royal Society), and have
demonstrated their appeal and their success. Their holders stand on their
own feet, have reasonably long tenure and the opportunity to establish
themselves scientifically. Moreover, identifying promising individuals at
the appropriate stage, a few years after the PhD, is an easier and more
honest process than trying to forecast what a research project will produce
– the uneasy fiction of a grant application which pretends to predict the
unknown.

Next, and most urgent, is the need for all concerned to pay more attention
to the career development and future prospects of the research scientists
they employ or fund. This is a responsibility which is shared by research
councils, universities, department heads and many others, both at an institutional
and at a personal level. Far too many young scientists have been taken into
the system on ‘soft money’, with little thought given to their long-term
future. Of course an open competitive system will, at the beginning, take
on many young scientists for whom no permanent place can be found. The others
will have to move on to other roles in society. Some may take scientific
or managerial posts in industry; some will go abroad; some will go into
education; many will take their scientific background and outlook into totally
different fields. All will be making their contribution, but there are two
crucial points that should be observed.

First, moving out of the academic/ research scene should not be delayed
too long. The transition to other employment is easier for the young.

Secondly, the prospects and risks should always be made clear to aspiring
scientists, so that they do not embark on the long years of study and apprenticeship
with any false expectations. A life devoted to scientific research can be
immensely rewarding, but the competition is tough and many scientists will
have to modify their objectives as they progress. Yet the commercial practices
now being imposed on universities and the scientific community as a whole
have not been accompanied by an emphasis on personal career development
which operates widely in the business world.

Finally, there is the part that an expanding university system could
play in providing long-term secure employment for our research scientists.
There are many reasons why research and teaching should go together. They
reinforce each other and, at the higher levels, they merge seamlessly. The
training of research students provides an essential link between the two,
and is the foundation on which all future research is built.

Past experience, both in Britain and elsewhere, confirms the view that
teaching and research are best conducted in close harmony. Countries such
as those of Eastern Europe, where research was primarily conducted in ‘academy
institutes’, are rapidly changing their ways, while the past success of
British and American science has been firmly rooted in the university sector.
In fact, much of the strength of science in the US lies in its widespread
distribution through many layers of the higher education system, much of
it with a strong regional base.

By contrast, present trends in Britain all point to a greater concentration
of research into a small number of top universities. The rest are in danger
of being downgraded and told to concentrate on teaching. If implemented,
such a policy would further reduce the employment prospects of young research
scientists, and produce pressures to establish research institutes.

If, on the other hand, advantage were taken of the expanding higher
education system to broaden and strengthen research opportunities, this
would provide additional outlets for the ‘research scientist mountain’ which
past policies (not this time the fault of the European Community) have created.

Morale among younger scientists is understandably low, and it is essential
that steps along the lines I have indicated are taken if morale is to be
restored. It is not too late, but prompt action is needed.

Michael Atiyah is director of the Isaac Newton Institute for Mathematical
Sciences at the University of Cambridge, master of Trinity College, Cambridge,
and president of the Royal Society.