From Oppenheimer to Fauci

By Ricardo Hausmann

CAMBRIDGE ― The plot of Oppenheimer, this summer's surprise blockbuster film, resembles a Star Wars installment. An evil empire plans to harness a dark force to subjugate humanity. Fortunately, the forces of good master the technology before the enemy does, ensuring victory. But the effort is extremely expensive, and mobilizing the necessary resources requires massive investment and organizational prowess. In other words, it requires politics.

The director Christopher Nolan's depiction of the Manhattan Project during World War II captures a unique historical moment when scientists, policymakers, and politicians were aligned in pursuit of a common goal. Albert Einstein had informed then-U.S. President Franklin Delano Roosevelt that Nazi Germany was working on a new and powerful nuclear weapon. Roosevelt, in response, recruited Robert Oppenheimer to lead a team of highly talented scientists, many of whom were European refugees fleeing fascist regimes, and appointed Lieutenant General Leslie Groves to head the supporting military effort.

Despite their different backgrounds and values, Oppenheimer and his scientists cooperated with Groves and his troops to accomplish their shared objective, exceeding even the most optimistic expectations. By developing the bomb ahead of the Nazis, they played a pivotal role in ensuring the Allies' victory.

But the alliance between the scientific community and the U.S. government soon descended into acrimony as scientists grappled with moral questions raised by their work, especially after the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. One scientist, Klaus Fuchs, provided the Soviet Union with highly classified information about the Manhattan Project, and Oppenheimer opposed the development of the hydrogen bomb. Oppenheimer's reliability was subsequently called into question, leading politicians to revoke his security clearance and remove him from the nuclear program.

The film, particularly its denouement, could be interpreted as an allegory for the tumultuous relationship between science and politics. In early 2020, scientists informed us that a global pandemic was underway and, in an extraordinary effort, developed an effective vaccine in record time. Conversely, scientists' warnings about the threat of global warming, and their explanation of what must be done to mitigate its most devastating effects, went largely unheeded for decades.

There is an eerie resemblance between Oppenheimer and Anthony Fauci, the former director of the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases who helped lead the U.S. government's response to COVID-19. Fauci became the subject of numerous conspiracy theories and political attacks from Republican politicians and conservative pundits ― the same politicians and pundits who assert that climate change is a hoax.

To be sure, this problem is neither new nor limited to the United States. Soviet dictator Joseph Stalin defied the scientific establishment and supported Trofim Lysenko's bogus theory that acquired traits could be inherited, devastating Soviet agriculture and starving millions of people. In China, Mao Zedong's Cultural Revolution targeted university professors and experts, labeling them "class enemies." By contrast, Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev's support for scientists paved the way for the USSR to develop hydrogen bombs, launch the Sputnik 1 satellite, and make Yuri Gagarin the first human in space.

Thabo Mbeki, who succeeded Nelson Mandela as South Africa's president, infamously denied that AIDS was caused by the HIV virus, resulting in the loss of hundreds of thousands of lives. Venezuela's Hugo Chavez thought he could run the state-owned oil company PDVSA without its most capable professionals, dismissing 18,000 employees and effectively destroying the firm that had been responsible for much of the country's economic growth.

The complicated interplay between expertise, policy, and politics stems partly from the fact that experts possess valuable skills that cannot be employed without their consent. This gives them the power to abstain from projects whose objectives they do not endorse. For example, the effort to beat Nazi Germany to weaponize the atom received near-unanimous support from scientists, in contrast to the decision to drop nuclear bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, or to develop the significantly more destructive hydrogen bomb without a clear and present danger.

While experts can provide useful guidance regarding difficult policy decisions, their role can be highly controversial. Containing the spread of COVID-19 required a temporary yet immensely costly economic shutdown. Combating climate change requires a similarly disruptive and expensive shift away from fossil fuels. These decisions involve difficult, uncertain, and inherently political tradeoffs. Weighing COVID-19 infection rates against the potential loss of school days, for example, is not merely a technical matter; it is a social choice between two conflicting priorities.

Experts play a vital role in understanding the nature of these tradeoffs. But their natural inclination to form opinions on the best course of action often takes them beyond their area of expertise and into the realm of political decision-making. Epidemiologists, for example, can explain the health consequences of reopening schools during a pandemic. But their insights into how school closures affect students' educational outcomes or how society should value these conflicting objectives are limited.

Crucially, most scientists and experts are not motivated by money. Instead, they derive satisfaction from the process of discovery itself and the social recognition they receive. The success of the Israel Defense Forces' prestigious 8200 intelligence unit, for example, can be partly attributed to the high regard in which its members and veterans are held, which makes it easier to attract and retain top talent.

Regardless of political leanings, a society that fails to recognize the value of its experts misses out on their knowledge and reduces the number and quality of future specialists. Similarly, a scientific community that blurs the distinction between knowledge and decision-making risks losing society's trust. While fostering a positive relationship between science, policy, and politics is undoubtedly challenging, the potential benefits are enormous.

Ricardo Hausmann, a former minister of planning of Venezuela and former chief economist at the Inter-American Development Bank, is a professor at Harvard Kennedy School and director of the Harvard Growth Lab. This article was distributed by Project Syndicate (www.project-syndicate.org).