Message from the Director

Science Matters

Admit it. Whether you are a scientist or not, you've seen it happen. Whether talking to a friend's parent, a taxi driver, the person in the seat next to you on an airplane, or someone at a party, if you say you are a scientist, there's 'the look.' You see it in the eyes – they might open wide or they might just squint a bit, but the discomfort or even panic is there. They almost certainly strain to look elsewhere, desperate for eye contact with a 'normal' person – someone who's in business perhaps, or law, or the arts, or even a writer. Medicine would be fine, but, please, not a scientist.

But wait! Before you turn away, let me tell you about science at Duke. We're different. Or at least we could be.

Some already are. The IGSP was conceived on an unusual – at least judging by national trends – premise, that exploring the genome sciences would be 'better', deeper, and more meaningful if combined with studies of the social, ethical and policy implications of that science. And the IGSP isn't alone. The Nicholas Institute, the Duke Global Health Institute and the Duke Institute for Brain Sciences all have roots that purposefully connect science and society. They – like Duke's other signature institutes – are inherently interdisciplinary; someone wanting to study 'just' the science of the genome, the environment, global epidemics, or neuroscience might find a more comfortable and less distracting fit somewhere else.

But as visible as the interdisciplinary institutes have been in setting this tone, the opportunity to define science at Duke and to distinguish it from science elsewhere has only been partly realized. At a school that is increasingly known for interdiscipinarity, for DukeEngage, for knowledge in the service of society, for an emerging arts scene, and for, yes, athletics, the sciences are peculiar for being less distinctive and less, well, 'Duke' than other well-recognized elements of our institutional persona. A few years ago, I remember gazing through The Chanticleer, the yearbook generated by each graduating class, full of images documenting their personal take on four years at Duke. Arts, music, sports, clubs, student organizations, residential life and myriad social groups and activities were all represented in scenes of students fully experiencing what Duke has to offer, whether strolling across campus, in Bostock, at the Nasher, in the dance studio, at Cameron, around Durham, or around the globe. And science, engineering and research? A lovely picture of a brick building. No people, not even a pipette. Just a building.

I don't blame The Chanticleer. I'm guessing that relatively few of the editors or photographers were themselves scientists or spent much time thinking about what the science or research scene was like at Duke – beyond the bricks, that is. Rather, the fault lies with us – the faculty and leaders – who have failed to create a distinctive culture that says 'DukeScience.'

If we can have a vibrant arts scene at Duke – something we should be proud of, but which is almost certainly not unique around the country – then why not a 'vibrant science scene' that almost certainly would set us apart from other institutions? One that is not just about doing great science, but also about emphasizing the human aspects of doing it and exploring the benefits and risks of applying it.

What would we need to do in order to create such a scene? I don't pretend to have the answers, but I would toss out a few ideas worthy of broader discussion. We could highlight science and research opportunities to potential Duke students and focus especially on ways that science at Duke impacts society by reaching across the disciplines and reaching out to pockets of students who might not currently think of science as part of their Duke experience. We could welcome students – all students – to a life in science. In an age when some of our most visible public figures are utterly dismissive of science, we need scientifically literate citizens in all walks of life who understand the scientific process and are as thankful that we have scientists as I am that we have artists, writers, filmmakers, historians and sociologists. That's a tall order, but we could start by ensuring that all Duke students are exposed to interdisciplinary courses that teach both what science is and why it matters to society and to individuals. We could develop a campus-wide community around science that focuses, with real-world examples, on science as a way of thinking and approaching problems, both within and beyond the formal curriculum. Where is it written that the culture of our campus can't include science?

At Duke and elsewhere, the arts resonate at multiple levels – from pure entertainment, to history and philosophy, to personal reflection and enlightenment. What's the science equivalent of that? We should strive to connect science regularly to the humanities, social sciences, and the arts at Duke, and to engage faculty who can communicate their passion well and in plain English.

Fortunately, we have examples of just such faculty here at Duke, and we should work to both attract and develop even more who regularly engage students and colleagues at the intersection of science and society. When speaking about the IGSP, I frequently brag that I must be the only director of a genome institute around the country who can claim to have multiple English professors and philosophers in our midst. It is they who recognize that the moment research leaves the lab and enters the public consciousness, we have entered the realm of the humanities – making meaning, understanding what it means to be human, and attempting to negotiate the complex world between scientific research and such fundamentals of human life as faith, destiny, autonomy, culture and prejudice.

There is no shortage of science findings that speak (or could speak) loudly to the public in this way – from sexuality to evolution to global warming to technology to synthetic life and to racial and gender distinctions. Faculty who are comfortable at this interface will both attract and nurture students who aspire to the same. And from that might emerge the beginnings of 'DukeScience.' Scientific revolutions eventually reverberate into social revolutions (think Copernicus, Darwin, Steve Jobs...), and there is no place better suited than Duke to inform and enrich such a path.

As faculty, why do we choose to do science at Duke, as opposed to anywhere else? Or, if you're a student, why did you choose to learn science at Duke? Surely it can't be just because we have nice buildings or because the weather's nice or because of Duke basketball, although at the margins such things may matter. Why can't the answer be: because science at Duke is different and because, at Duke, science matters.

Huntington F. Willard
Director