Benjamin Franklin, Civic Scientist Free

I’ve already touched on the subject of Franklin’s age. I wouldn’t suggest that one has to be old to be a good civic scientist, but it is important for a civic scientist to have commonsense wisdom—beyond one’s years or at least equal to them. So wisdom is certainly one element of the definition of a civic scientist.

Of course, a civic scientist must also be a scientist. Without question, Franklin passes that test. He was known and respected on both sides of the Atlantic for his scientific achievements. Twenty years before the Declaration of Independence, Franklin was elected as a fellow of the Royal Society of London, and in 1753, he received the society’s Copley Medal, which in his time was perhaps comparable in distinction to a Nobel Prize today. As a result, electricity gained recognition as a bona fide field of science. And in 1772,Franklin was elected to France’s Royal Academy of Sciences in Paris—an exceptional honor because by its own regulations the academy could have only eight foreign members at one time.

Franklin fit comfortably into the science-oriented thinking of the 18th century. Historian Garry Wills reminds us that although Isaac Newton, with his genuine quest for a unifying science, was a paradigm of enlightenment thought, Franklin the experimentalist was a fortuitous match for the Enlightenment’s obsession with measurement. Wills elaborates further, writing that “men recognized [Franklin’s] genius precisely because he moved faster and farther by his native skill than most of his Enlightenment peers.” ²  

Only in the last half-century have historians rediscovered the full breadth of Franklin’s scientific interests. He studied seawater luminescence and ocean temperatures while charting the path of the Gulf Stream. He warned of the dangers of lead poisoning and hypothesized about continental drift and the wave theory of light. And he fascinated traveling companions by pouring a little oil on a lake’s surface and thus stilling the waves.

Franklin’s well-honed skills as a writer on various topics for the public also gave him the ability to explain science.I. Bernard Cohen, in Science and the Founding Fathers, notes that Franklin’s book Experiments and Observations on Electricity “ranks among the most notable books on science of that age and of any other age.” ³ And it was read not only by scientists but by the general public.

The definition of a civic scientist, then, must also include the ability to communicate effectively with—and communicate science to—the public.

In keeping with his pragmatic nature, Franklin possessed the ability to form consensus and negotiate a positive outcome. He is credited with the compromise of equal-state representation in the Senate (a reversal of his previous position) and with population-based representation in the House of Representatives. The product of a large working-class family, Franklin was exposed to the economic, social, and educational needs of common society. He was convinced that smaller, poorer regions of the country were vulnerable to being swallowed up in the heat of political maneuvering and that, as a result, their voices would not be heard and their needs would go unmet.

He may not have anticipated that, with our present seniority system in Congress, much of the leadership is now in the hands of several of the smaller, less wealthy states. Then again, perhaps that is precisely what he had in mind. Let’s add consensus-building and compromise to the attributes of a civic scientist.

Even in the years when he was spending most of his time on government matters, Franklin considered himself a scientist. He took comfort and delight in his experiments and expressed the desire to continue unfettered on that path. But the duties of patriot and diplomat took him in another direction. It was, in fact, his scientific celebrity as the tamer of lightning that gained him access to many influential French and British government officials. Franklin seemed well aware of his celebrity and had few qualms about exploiting it to gain access. From there, his intellect, wit, and charm carried his concerns to the highest-level audiences.

But of particular note, Franklin’s scientific mind was what enlightened his thoughts about government. In a letter to Jonathan Shipley in early 1786, Franklin offered this comment about the formation of government: “We are, I think, on the right Road of Improvement, for we are making Experiments.” ³ Indeed, he likely argued for the inclusion of the constitutional amendment process because he knew full well that perfection was not a promising premise and that, based on experience and empirical findings, change was inevitable.

Franklin’s disciplined scientific thinking proved useful in the debates and formation of policy; it shed light on the path of future scientists. Franklin was not simply a good scientist who engaged in public service. He was one who used his scientific curiosity, nature, intuition, and powers of analysis in ways only a scientist could, and that made him especially effective in the political and public domains.

I think Franklin would have been pleased with the moniker of civic scientist. His scientific life broadened into a life of public service that caused him to put all his knowledge and skills to work for the improvement of society. He promoted education and established schools, started a library loan system, wrote for the average citizen, founded civic organizations, lobbied for the establishment or improvement of many public services, and served as adviser—on science and everything else—to the first president of the US. I guess you could say that Franklin was the country’s first science adviser to the president.

Certainly, Franklin lived in a world of dramatic change. He was at the forefront of overturning the old paradigms of government at a time when enlightenment in politics complemented that in science. What he made of those two concurrent revolutions is instructive for us today.

The nation that Franklin and the younger founding fathers were constructing of new cloth would have both more freedom and more responsibilities for its citizens. Franklin’s awareness of the need to educate citizens and provide access to books was an indication of his benevolence, surely, but not solely. He understood that the new structure of government held new requirements for leaders and followers. As much as he loved science and continued to practice it, he saw and accepted the larger responsibilities of establishing democracy and preparing citizens for it.

We scientists face a similar situation in our own time. We are not, of course, fighting to remove a colonial master. But more than 200 years after the founding of this country, we are again threatened by forces—some external, some internal, some genuine, and some political—that would take away the very freedoms that Franklin and his contemporaries fought so hard to obtain. Science is not the root cause of these problems, nor is it an assured solution; but without question, science and technology must be a significant part of the solution. And, I believe, in order for that to happen, scientists will have to play a larger role in society and policy.

When I give talks on the subject of the civic scientist, I am sometimes asked, “isn’t it enough to be a good scientist and a good citizen?” Clearly, the answer is yes. Even if one is motivated solely by curiosity and a sense of adventure, making discoveries that add to the store of human knowledge is a major societal contribution in itself. The 20th-century philosopher Bertrand Russell wrote,“Almost everything that distinguishes the modern world from earlier centuries is attributable to science.” ⁴  

In fact, that view is widely held in this country. The surveys in Science and Engineering Indicators, a biennial report from the National Science Board, make clear that the American people are positive about science and believe it is important, even though most don’t understand much about it. Given the impact that modern science and technology have on people, that lack of knowledge is a dangerous situation, for both science and society.

We should reflect on the reality that our science has helped shape the modern world in enormously powerful ways and is causing dramatic changes in people’s lives. Moreover, much of today’s science is so complex that sometimes only we can understand and explain it—and increasingly, only in our own disciplines. By default, this reality places new responsibilities on the science community.

I think it is useful to ask what we can learn from Franklin today. “Ben, what would you do as a modern civic scientist? How would you respond to some of today’s missed opportunities and neglected participants?” Let us compose a checklist; I’ll call it “Franklin’s List” (see the summary box on page 44).

Franklin would want us to address the conundrum that, at a time when science is so integral to society,government policy,and world affairs, scientists are rarely called to the table when the big decisions are made. He might point out that one reason scientists are not called to the table is that they are not even in the room.

So, first on the list, Franklin would undoubtedly encourage scientists to run for Congress and other public office. He might even run for office himself, in part because there are so few scientists in Congress. I think he would consider our current national legislature, made up of lawyers and businessmen, with far too few women and ethnic-minority members, to be unrepresentative of our increasingly diverse society and inconsistent with the notion of democracy. Franklin would not understate the required level of commitment and sacrifice of running for public office,especially given today’s highly partisan climate of backbiting, poor demeanor, and low morale in Washington, DC. I find it remarkable that a number of dedicated senators and representatives,regardless of party affiliation, continue to try to make the system work. Their numbers are shrinking, though, so they need all our support.

Franklin might organize a series of science seminars for policymakers and cajole some members of the science community to lead that task, perhaps in partnership with the few scientists in Congress. He might even try the heretical idea of a bipartisan, joint House—Senate science caucus,in which Congress, for the first time ever, could focus on science, technology, and the R&D budget.

Next, the scienceliteracy of the general population would likely get Franklin’s attention. He would recognize that,to be truly enfranchised and empowered in the 21st century, citizens need to know a lot more about how scientific discoveries are made, how science and technology affect their own and others’ lives, and how important it is that science be taught well in our schools. He’d also realize that the general public must know why it is essential to maintain freedom, openness, and international cooperation in science and, in particular, why discouraging women and men from coming to America to study scienceis so damaging to this nation’s future.

Franklin would be at the forefront of much needed reforms of science textbooks and curricula. He might lead that effort by bringing together first-rate scientists and science writers to develop engaging and accurate material. It would all be available on the World Wide Web, and would be popular because it was good and up-to-date, and not for political or commercial reasons.

He might also encourage scientists to write a paperback or Web module on the history of science and technology. Such a tool could accompany history textbooks in secondary-school classes and give science a much needed historical context.

As the final item on our list, given Franklin’s interest in journalism and his desire and ability to communicate, I think he would look carefully at the media. He would undoubtedly have a witty observation about today’s television-oriented public, but would immediately see the unrealized potential of television. He would be fascinated with some of the educational television programs, those that present science for children. The PBS televisionprogram Cyber-chase introduces young viewers to the world of computers and adds mathematical and geometric reasoning, pattern recognition, and complex problem solving, all in an adventurous medium. Franklin would seize the opportunity to develop a repertoire of shows for different disciplines. As a scientist who believed learning comes through experience, he would likely favor the broad expansion of children’s television and the virtual experience that the medium provides. Similarly, he would find a way to direct at least part of the computer-games market to science games.

Franklin would not expect children to be the sole beneficiaries of science education. Adult television has already begun to recognize the public’s hunger for fascinating scientific realism. Today, one of the most popular television series in the country is CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, in which forensic science is put to the test in solving problems of homicide investigations. With the apparent popularity of series like that, we can begin to change the exaggerated media image of a weird, possibly mad scientist with a laboratory full of bubbling beakers into an image of a thoughtful and mainstream contributory member of society. Franklin would urge us to put a human face on science, to make it clear that a career in science is an option for boys and girls from every community and cultural background. We are a long way from that today. Having said this, I sincerely hope Franklin would avoid America’s version of “reality TV.”

Our Franklin’s List is limited only by our imagination. The combination of pragmatist and visionary that worked so effectively for Franklin can work for us as well; it can have some application across the spectrum of this nation’s present challenges.

I’d like to emphasize again how science and its influence on the world have changed over time by quoting a short segment of a poem entitled “The kidnapping of science,” in which my good friend, poet Patricia Garfinkel, depicts a vision of the beginning of science.

The early science that began in fragile, tentative ways now encompasses all of us. As scientists, we have a unique role. We work on the fringes of knowledge, where the known and the imagined entwine. Our passion to question,to know, and to explore is a gift to be passed on to future generations.

Science has made a better world for each generation. I think Franklin clearly understood that trajectory. In his time, he was a leader among giants. As we pay attention to and honor his spirit and his work, he can do the same for us today. What Franklin would ask of us, I think, is to ensure that that trajectory for science continues for another couple of centuries. That, I believe he would agree, will require the work of more civic scientists.

At this difficult time in our nation’s history, we are again in need of wisdom and models—women and men of intelligence and integrity who value truth, freedom, and the dignity of human beings, in our country and in every other part of the world. I believe that, like Benjamin Franklin in 18th-century America, civic scientists should be prominent among those models.

The author gratefully acknowledges the able assistance of Patricia and Jef Garfinkel in the preparation of the talk that was the basis for this article.

Neal Lane, former director of the National Science Foundation and science adviser to President Bill Clinton, is University Professor, with appointments in the department of physics and astronomy and as senior fellow of the James A. Baker III Institute for Public Policy of Rice University in Houston, Texas.