Who Qualifies as an “Expert” And How Can We Decide Who Is Trustworthy?
Discerning a real expert from a charlatan is crucial during the COVID-19 pandemic and beyond.
This article is part of the magazine, "The Future of Science In America: The Election Issue," co-published by LeapsMag, the Aspen Institute Science & Society Program, and GOOD.
Expertise is a slippery concept. Who has it, who claims it, and who attributes or yields it to whom is a culturally specific, sociological process. During the COVID-19 pandemic, we have witnessed a remarkable emergence of legitimate and not-so-legitimate scientists publicly claiming or being attributed to have academic expertise in precisely my field: infectious disease epidemiology. From any vantage point, it is clear that charlatans abound out there, garnering TV coverage and hundreds of thousands of Twitter followers based on loud opinions despite flimsy credentials. What is more interesting as an insider is the gradient of expertise beyond these obvious fakers.
A person's expertise is not a fixed attribute; it is a hierarchical trait defined relative to others. Despite my protestations, I am the go-to expert on every aspect of the pandemic to my family. To a reporter, I might do my best to answer a question about the immune response to SARS-CoV-2, noting that I'm not an immunologist. Among other academic scientists, my expertise is more well-defined as a subfield of epidemiology, and within that as a particular area within infectious disease epidemiology. There's a fractal quality to it; as you zoom in on a particular subject, a differentiation of expertise emerges among scientists who, from farther out, appear to be interchangeable.
We all have our scientific domain and are less knowledgeable outside it, of course, and we are often asked to comment on a broad range of topics. But many scientists without a track record in the field have become favorites among university administrators, senior faculty in unrelated fields, policymakers, and science journalists, using institutional prestige or social connections to promote themselves. This phenomenon leads to a distorted representation of science—and of academic scientists—in the public realm.
Trustworthy experts will direct you to others in their field who know more about particular topics, and will tend to be honest about what is and what isn't "in their lane."
Predictably, white male voices have been disproportionately amplified, and men are certainly over-represented in the category of those who use their connections to inappropriately claim expertise. Generally speaking, we are missing women, racial minorities, and global perspectives. This is not only important because it misrepresents who scientists are and reinforces outdated stereotypes that place white men in the Global North at the top of a credibility hierarchy. It also matters because it can promote bad science, and it passes over scientists who can lend nuance to the scientific discourse and give global perspectives on this quintessentially global crisis.
Also at work, in my opinion, are two biases within academia: the conflation of institutional prestige with individual expertise, and the bizarre hierarchy among scientists that attributes greater credibility to those in quantitative fields like physics. Regardless of mathematical expertise or institutional affiliation, lack of experience working with epidemiological data can lead to over-confidence in the deceptively simple mathematical models that we use to understand epidemics, as well as the inappropriate use of uncertain data to inform them. Prominent and vocal scientists from different quantitative fields have misapplied the methods of infectious disease epidemiology during the COVID-19 pandemic so far, creating enormous confusion among policymakers and the public. Early forecasts that predicted the epidemic would be over by now, for example, led to a sense that epidemiological models were all unreliable.
Meanwhile, legitimate scientific uncertainties and differences of opinion, as well as fundamentally different epidemic dynamics arising in diverse global contexts and in different demographic groups, appear in the press as an indistinguishable part of this general chaos. This leads many people to question whether the field has anything worthwhile to contribute, and muddies the facts about COVID-19 policies for reducing transmission that most experts agree on, like wearing masks and avoiding large indoor gatherings.
So how do we distinguish an expert from a charlatan? I believe a willingness to say "I don't know" and to openly describe uncertainties, nuances, and limitations of science are all good signs. Thoughtful engagement with questions and new ideas is also an indication of expertise, as opposed to arrogant bluster or a bullish insistence on a particular policy strategy regardless of context (which is almost always an attempt to hide a lack of depth of understanding). Trustworthy experts will direct you to others in their field who know more about particular topics, and will tend to be honest about what is and what isn't "in their lane." For example, some expertise is quite specific to a given subfield: epidemiologists who study non-infectious conditions or nutrition, for example, use different methods from those of infectious disease experts, because they generally don't need to account for the exponential growth that is inherent to a contagion process.
Academic scientists have a specific, technical contribution to make in containing the COVID-19 pandemic and in communicating research findings as they emerge. But the liminal space between scientists and the public is subject to the same undercurrents of sexism, racism, and opportunism that society and the academy have always suffered from. Although none of the proxies for expertise described above are fool-proof, they are at least indicative of integrity and humility—two traits the world is in dire need of at this moment in history.
[Editor's Note: To read other articles in this special magazine issue, visit the beautifully designed e-reader version.]
Scientists and Religious Leaders Need to Be More Transparent
A steeple cross at sunset.
[Editor's Note: This essay is in response to our current Big Question series: "How can the religious and scientific communities work together to foster a culture that is equipped to face humanity's biggest challenges?"]
As a Jesuit Catholic priest, and a molecular geneticist, this question has been a fundamental part of my adult life. But first, let me address an issue that our American culture continues to struggle with: how do science and religion actually relate to each other? Is science about the "real" world, and religion just about individual or group beliefs about how the world should be?
Or are science and religion in direct competition with both trying to construct explanations of reality that are "better" or more real than the other's approach? These questions have generated much discussion among scientists, philosophers, and theologians.
The recent advances in our understanding of genetics show how combining the insights of science and religion can be beneficial.
First, we need to be clear that science and religion are two different ways human beings use to understand reality. Science focuses on observable, quantifiable, physical aspects of our universe, whereas, religion, while taking physical reality into consideration, also includes the immaterial, non-quantifiable, human experiences and concepts which relate to the meaning and purpose of existence. While scientific discoveries also often stimulate such profound reflections, these reflections are not technically a part of scientific methodology.
Second, though different in both method and focus, neither way of understanding reality produces a more "real" or accurate comprehension of our human existence. In fact, most often both science and religion add valuable insights into any particular situation, providing a more complete understanding of it as well as how it might be improved.
The recent advances in our understanding of genetics show how combining the insights of science and religion can be beneficial. For instance, the study of genetic differences among people around the world has shown us that the idea that we could accurately classify people as belonging to different races—e.g. African, Caucasian, Asian, etc.—is actually quite incorrect on a biological level. In fact, in many ways two people who appear to be of different races, perhaps African and Caucasian, could be more similar genetically than two people who appear to be of the same African race.
This scientific finding, then, challenges us to critically review the social categories some use to classify people as different from us, and, therefore, somehow of less worth to society. From this perspective, one could argue that this scientific insight synergizes well with some common fundamental religious beliefs regarding the fundamental equality all people have in their relationship to the Divine.
However, this synergy between science and religion is not what we encounter most often in the mass media or public policy debates. In part, this is due to the fact that science and religion working well together is not normally considered newsworthy. What does get attention is when science appears to conflict with religion, or, perhaps more accurately, when the scientific community conflicts with religious communities regarding how a particular scientific advance should be applied. These disagreements usually are not due to a conflict between scientific findings and religious beliefs, but rather between differing moral, social or political agendas.
One way that the two sides can work together is to prioritize honesty and accuracy in public debates instead of crafting informational campaigns to promote political advantage.
For example, genetically modified foods have been a source of controversy for the past several decades. While the various techniques used to create targeted genetic changes in plants—e.g. drought or pest resistance—are scientifically intricate and complex, explaining these techniques to the public is similar to explaining complex medical treatments to patients. Hence, the science alone is not the issue.
The controversy arises from the differing goals various stakeholders have for this technology. Obviously, companies employing this technology want it to be used around the world both for its significantly improved food production, and for improved revenue. Opponents, which have included religious communities, focus more on the social and cultural disruption this technology can create. Since a public debate between a complex technology on one side, and a complex social situation on the other side, is difficult to undertake well, the controversy has too often been reduced to sound bites such as "Frankenfoods." While such phrases may be an effective way to influence public opinion, ultimately, they work against sensible decision-making.
One way that the two sides can work together is to prioritize honesty and accuracy in public debates instead of crafting informational campaigns to promote political advantage. I recognize that presenting a thorough and honest explanation of an organization's position does not fit easily into our 24-hour-a-day-sound-bite system, but this is necessary to make the best decisions we can if we want to foster a healthier and happier world.
Climate change and human genome editing are good examples of this problem. These are both complex issues with impacts that extend well beyond just science and religious beliefs—including economics, societal disruption, and an exacerbation of social inequalities. To achieve solutions that result in significant benefits for the vast majority of people, we must work to create a knowledgeable public that is encouraged to consider the good of both one's own community as well as that of all others. This goal is actually one that both scientific and religious organizations claim to value and pursue.
The experts often fail to understand sufficiently what the public hopes, wants, and fears.
Unfortunately, both types of organizations often fall short because they focus only on informing and instructing instead of truly engaging the public in deliberation. Often both scientists and religious leaders believe that the public is not capable of sufficiently understanding the complexities of the issues, so they resort to assuming that the public should just do what the experts tell them.
However, there is significant research that demonstrates the ability of the general public to grasp complex issues in order to make sound decisions. Hence, it is the experts who often fail to understand how their messages are being received and what the public hopes, wants, and fears.
Overall, I remain sanguine about the likelihood of both religious and scientific organizations learning how to work better with each other, and together with the public. Working together for the good of all, we can integrate the insights and the desires of all stakeholders in order to face our challenges with well-informed reason and compassion for all, particularly those most in need.
[Ed. Note: Don't miss the other perspectives in this Big Question series, from a science scholar and a Rabbi/M.D.]
Scientists: Don’t Leave Religious Communities Out in the Cold
A star of David reflects the perspective of a Rabbi/M.D. on an important question about the future of society.
[Editor's Note: This essay is in response to our current Big Question series: "How can the religious and scientific communities work together to foster a culture that is equipped to face humanity's biggest challenges?"]
I humbly submit that the question should be rephrased: How can the religious and scientific communities NOT work together to face humanity's biggest challenges? The stakes are higher than ever before, and we simply cannot afford to go it alone.
I believe in evolution -- the evolution of the relationship of science and religion.
The future of the world depends on our collaboration. I believe in evolution -- the evolution of the relationship of science and religion. Science and religion have lived in alternately varying relationships ranging from peaceful coexistence to outright warfare. Today we have evolved and have begun to embrace the biological relationship of mutualism. This is in part due to the advances in medicine and science.
Previous scientific discoveries and paradigm shifts precipitated varying theological responses. With Copernicus, we grappled with the relationship of the earth to the universe. With Darwin, we re-evaluated the relationship of man to the other creatures on earth. However, as theologically complex as these debates were, they had no practical relevance to the common man. Indeed, it was possible for people to live their entire lives happily without pondering these issues.
In the 21st century, the microscope is honing in further, with discoveries relating to the understanding of the very nature and composition of the human being, both body and mind/soul. Thus, as opposed to the past, the implications of the latest scientific advances directly affect the common man. The religious implications are not left to the ivory tower theologians. Regular people are now confronted with practical religious questions previously unimagined.
For example, in the field of infertility, if a married woman undergoes donor insemination, is she considered an adulteress? If a woman of one faith gestates the child of another faith, to whose faith does the child belong? If your heart is failing, can you avail yourself of stem cells derived from human embryos, or would you be considered an accomplice to murder? Would it be preferable to use artificially derived stem cells if they are available?
The implications of our current debates are profound, and profoundly personal. Science is the great equalizer. Every living being can potentially benefit from medical advances. We are all consumers of the scientific advances, irrespective of race or religion. As such, we all deserve a say in their development.
If the development of the science is collaborative, surely the contemplation of its ethical/religious applications should likewise be.
With gene editing, uterus transplants, head transplants, artificial reproductive seed, and animal-human genetic combinations as daily headlines, we have myriad ethical dilemmas to ponder. What limits should we set for the uses of different technologies? How should they be financed? We must even confront the very definition of what it means to be human. A human could receive multiple artificial transplants, 3D printed organs, genetic derivatives, or organs grown in animals. When does a person become another person or lose his identity? Will a being produced entirely from synthetic DNA be human?
In the Middle Ages, it was possible for one person to master all of the known science, and even sometimes religion as well, such as the great Maimonides. In the pre-modern era, discoveries were almost always attributed to one individual: Jenner, Lister, Koch, Pasteur, and so on. Today, it is impossible for any one human being to master medicine, let alone ethics, religion, etc. Advances are made not usually by one person but by collaboration, often involving hundreds, if not thousands of people across the globe. We cite journal articles, not individuals. Furthermore, the magnitude and speed of development is staggering. Add artificial intelligence and it will continue to expand exponentially.
If the development of the science is collaborative, surely the contemplation of its ethical/religious applications should likewise be. The issues are so profound that we need all genes on deck. The religious community should have a prominent seat at the table. There is great wisdom in the religious traditions that can inform contemporary discussions. In addition, the religious communities are significant consumers of, not to mention contributors to, the medical technology.
An ongoing dialogue between the scientific and religious communities should be an institutionalized endeavor, not a sporadic event, reactive to a particular discovery. The National Institutes of Health or other national organizations could provide an online newsletter designed for the clergy with a summary of the latest developments and their potential applications. An annual meeting of scientists and religious leaders could provide a forum for the scientists to appreciate the religious ramifications of their research (which may be none as well) and for the clergy to appreciate the rapidly developing fields of science and the implications for their congregants. Theological seminaries must include basic scientific literacy as part of their curricula.
We need the proper medium of mutual respect and admiration, despite healthy disagreement.
How do we create a "culture"? Microbiological cultures take time and require the proper medium for maximal growth. If one of the variables is altered, the culture can be affected. To foster a culture of continued successful collaboration between scientists and religious communities, we likewise need the proper medium of mutual respect and admiration, despite healthy disagreement.
The only way we can navigate these unchartered waters is through constant, deep and meaningful collaboration every single step of the way. By cultivating a mutualistic relationship we can inform, caution and safeguard each other to maximize the benefits of emerging technologies.
[Ed. Note: Don't miss the other perspectives in this Big Question series, from a science scholar and a Reverend/molecular geneticist.]