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Science is conceived as a process of observing—measuring,
counting, and predicting outcomes, then doing–monitoring,
adjusting and adapting—an ongoing process that requires an
objective respect for the truths of the circumstance in question.
The interests of those competing for control of the fate of the
resource relegates scientific data to the dustbin. The public
denied the objective facts of the case are denied a seat at the
decision-making table. The public becomes a spectator—not
a collaborator.
As could have been anticipated, the "Science and Its Applications"
breakout group became immersed in defining "good science" and how it could
be applied to collaborative resource management activities. The group arrived
at a number of conclusions, not all necessarily connected. The idea of the
integration of good science, qualified by its objectivity and reliability into
resource decisions, was agreeable to all in the room, although just what was
covered by that idea was broad enough to obscure the meaning of the adjective
"good." Science, it was said, should be place-specific, value-specific, and
socially in tune with local perspectives. It should give respectful space to
local knowledge, and yet be replicable and worthy of peer review, if trustworthy
reviewers could be found. And it would be a good idea to discount
scientific findings in proportion to the dollars contributed by outside interests.
That was asking a lot.
Everyone was aware that in the political and judicial arenas where resource
management disputes are waged, people use good science, in Greg
Schildwachter's words, "as a code to justify their positions." Schildwachter, a
leading participant in the Flathead Common Ground collaboration, which was
highly dependent on reliable scientific data, is now Associate Director for Agriculture, Lands, and Wildlife for the Council on Environmental Quality.. He spoke from real
and frustrating experience.
But good science had another definition in the group's minds. As Richard Hart
put it, "Science needs to be connected to the landscape to which it is being
applied." Applied science, in Hart's terms, has to be specific to place and to
the resource management questions at issue. The question of defining the word
"science" itself, as well as science as application, science as process, and science
as an unfinished body of knowledge, was to stay with the workshop to
the end.
Chris Servheen, Grizzly Bear Recovery Coordinator for the U. S. Fish &
Wildlife Service, had ushered the group through this thicket of definitions.
He and the group, taking it from there, concluded that good science can only
help measure risk. And acceptable risk, they stated, is a political decision, not
a scientific decision.
After a plan is in place, it must be professionally monitored and objectively
evaluated. Richard Hart, who is a private consulting ecologist from British Columbia,
linked good science to monitoring, what he called "the tradition of detailed
observation and record keeping." It is that "tradition of detailed observation
and record keeping" that elevates local knowledge and gives it
authoritative standing in resource management decisions. He also had advice
for the "Building Capacity" folks: "The whole idea about evaluation, the element
of keeping your science transparent and visible, will keep CRM carrying
on a long ways. There are ways to let high school students and even older
community residents go out and do the monitoring, teaching the next generation,
involving them in the CRM process. We need to promote this, because
it is coming out of the community itself, putting education where it can best
benefit the community. Letting the kids do something that they enjoy doing
and hiring displaced people and retired people to work alongside them."
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