How B.C.’s pollsters got it right

Seeing the forest for the trees in public opinion research

Seeing the forest for the trees in public opinion research

Public opinion pollsters are, to many, nothing more than contemporary augerers, gauging the effects of political rhetoric to predict which way the wind will blow on election day – something akin to reading a dead muskrat’s guts to divine the moment of Julius Caesar’s murder on the steps of the Theatre of Pompey.

No segment of society, it is safe to say, maintains a more disingenuous relationship with survey masters than the Fourth Estate. Journalists would be lost without the Nik Nanoses, Angus Reids and George Gallups of the world. We hang on their every word, dutifully parrot their findings and usually concur with their conclusions.

Then, when they turn out to be wrong (as they often do), we abandon them faster than a tourist does a passenger cruise infected with stomach flu. “If the B.C. election induced even a smidgen of humility into practitioners of our craft,” wrote the Globe and Mail’s national affairs columnist Jeffrey Simpson last week, “and made them less reliant on suspect polls and got them to stop yammering about polls (which the general public doesn’t much care about anyway), it will have served a useful purpose.”

Perhaps, but the general public does, in fact, care about polls, because we make them care about polls, especially the “suspect” ones. And if the B.C. election does serve a useful purpose, it will be the degree to which it nurtures a finer appreciation of the role polls play in the peaceful transition of democratic power.

Or, at least that’s John Wright’s and Kyle Braid’s hope. They are, respectively, senior vice president and vice president of Ipsos Reid Public Affairs, which bills itself as “Canada’s market intelligence leader, the country’s leading provider of public opinion research.” In an unprecedented examination of “what happened and why” in British Columbia last week – when the provincial Liberals defied every prediction and marched to victory over the NDP – the pollsters declare:

“In Canada, polls cannot be released on Election Day so it often leaves people guessing at what happened and produces lots of finger pointing. In the United States and other jurisdictions, polls that interview voters are harbingers of the outcome but most importantly help explain why things have turned out the way they have.”

In fact, they say, they nailed the results at the last minute, but because they weren’t allowed to release their election day findings, no one, apart from themselves, was the wiser.

“In British Columbia, we interviewed 1,400 voters on Election Day and, as you’ll see, the numbers virtually matched the real outcome in terms of voter preference,” they write. “But it also tells a story as to why this happened right down to the last minute. The reality is that one in 10 (11%) BC voters decided in the voting booth on election day to mark their ballot for their candidate – and with one of the lowest turnouts in provincial voting ever (52%) it was motivated voters, Liberals, who bested the NDP in the voting booth. . .This was a hand-to-hand combat campaign and it deserved close scrutiny to the final ballot – and that’s why we did what we did by doing this special poll but because of the rules we couldn’t release it.”

The bottom line: “After an event like this – which in Canadian politics has been few and far between – there are lots of people who say that the ‘polls got it wrong’ when in fact it’s voters who upset their own applecart based on everything they’ve seen, read or heard.”

In other words, B.C.’s pollsters got it right to the final moments when the public revolted against what they read about their voting intentions in the media.

The question, of course, is: If Ipsos Reid had been permitted to publish the results of exit polls on voting day, would that have changed the outcome of the election? A better question, perhaps, is: Does it matter?

The final prerogative of citizenship in a democracy defies prediction. A voter, after all, is still permitted to change his mind.

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Sending out an S.O.S. to the universe

Beware the birdbrains in your backyard

Beware the birdbrains in your backyard

Now that Sarnia-born astronaut Chris Hadfield is, again, just another terrestrial, he might wonder whether he left his orbiting observation deck just a tad prematurely.

Canadians are looking up – way up – these days for proof of intelligent life in the universe, having not found even a shred of it on Earth.

According Chris Rutkowski and Geoff Dittman of Winnipeg’s Ufology Research, almost twice as many people claimed to have seen something they could not explain in the night sky in 2012 than in 2008 (the previous record year).

As for UFO sightings, Mr. Rutkowski told CTV last week, “We thought that they had plateaued or peaked a few years ago, when there were about 1,000 cases reported in Canada. But last year they jumped 100 per cent: 2,000 reports in Canada alone. . .Now whether we’re looking at a physical phenomenon or perhaps a sociological or a psychological phenomenon, the fact is that people are seeing things. . .“The truth is out there, but unfortunately we’re stuck down here.”

We sure are, and “stuck” is the word.

Let us scan the leads of the world’s news, lo these past few days.

“The revelation that Stephen Harper’s top aide gave Senator Mike Duffy more than $90,000 to cover repayment of improper expense claims has dragged the Prime Minister and his office into the controversy over Senate accountability,” the Globe and Mail helpfully informed on Friday. “The Conflict of Interest and Ethics Commissioner, Mary Dawson, said Wednesday that her office will review PMO chief of staff Nigel Wright’s decision to bail out Mr. Duffy.”

Meanwhile, ABC News reported last Thursday, “The U.S. justice department has admitted to secretly seizing phone records from the Associated Press in its attempt to track down the source of a leak. It is suspected the raid relates to the AP’s reporting on a foiled Al Qaeda plan to detonate a bomb on a plane heading to the United States last year. The AP says the justice department seized the records of more than 20 home, mobile and office phone lines this year without notice.”

Then, there’s the IRS, whose honcho, the Guardian noted, U.S. President Barack Obama “fired. . .on Wednesday in an effort to bring a speedy end to a scandal over the targeting of Tea Party organisations and other conservative groups for special scrutiny.

Obama, speaking at the White House, described the conduct of the employees at the Internal Revenue Service office in Cincinnati, Ohio, as ‘inexcusable’.

“The president said the Treasury secretary, Jack Lew, had demanded the resignation of the acting commissioner of the IRS, Steven Miller, in the light of criticism in an inspector general’s report (which) found that ineffective management at the IRS had allowed agents. . .to target conservative groups inappropriately for more than 18 months. Officials had picked out groups with the words Tea Party or Patriots in their titles and subjected their requests for tax-exempt status to extra scrutiny.”

Now, as CBS reported on Thursday, “The White House release of some 100 pages of emails and notes about the deadly attack on the U.S. diplomatic mission in Benghazi, Libya, last year has failed to satisfy congressional Republicans, who are demanding more information. . .Republicans have accused the Obama administration of misleading the American people about the circumstances of the attack, playing down a terrorist strike that would reflect poorly on President Obama in the heat of a presidential race. Mr. Obama has dismissed charges of a cover-up and suggested on Monday that the criticism was politically motivated.”

Finally, the U.S. Treasury is broke, as is most of continental Europe and a fair number of Canadian provinces. Household debt is at an all-time high as the gap between the rich and the poor inexorably widens.

And this lately in from the lunatic fringe: “Throughout the years it has become a duty of each Flat Earth Society member, to meet the common round earther in the open, avowed, and unyielding rebellion; to declare that his reign of error and confusion is over; and that henceforth, like a falling dynasty, he must shrink and disappear, leaving the throne and the kingdom of science and philosophy to those awakening intellects whose numbers are constantly increasing, and whose march is rapid and irresistible.”

Under the circumstances who in his or her right mind wouldn’t want to make the stars his or her destination?

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Hey buddy, can you spare a dime?

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Dear Nigel:

It’s been some time since last we chatted, and it occurs to me that I never did thank you for your gift of last Christmas, which was both timely and deeply appreciated. As we are both men of a certain social standing and responsibility, we understand how the pressures of high office can occasionally undermine our material means. It is grand to know that one can count on one’s friends when circumstances prevail overly on one’s pocket book. Great Aunt Mabel’s sudden demise (the unfortunate result of one too many rum toddies during Hogmanay) was a devastating blow to all of us. Your generous offer to cover the costs of her interment was a great relief. Again, we thank you!

On another matter entirely, you’ll be pleased to know that the renovations to our summer residence in Castle, New Brunswick, are proceeding nicely. The wife, Minnie, and I are enormously proud of the 1,500 square feet of new, outdoor living space, which replaces the old baby barn and outhouse. We can’t decide what we like most about it: the uniflame, gas firebowl with teak surrounds or the Buddha-themed, granite water feature. Minnie simply can’t tear herself away from the Rattan sofa chair.(It’s mildew-resistant, don’t you know). In any case, thanks to your thoughtful munificence, we’ve managed to steer clear of the bank. What a relief! Arguing loan terms can be such a bore.

Oh, before I forget, I should mention that our girl Tabitha is having a marvelous time on her European grand tour, visiting all of the Old World capitals. Meanwhile, young Chad is learning how to parasail (his fondest dream) during his sojourn at the reef islands of Vanuatu. Needless to say, they are most grateful for their “Uncle” Nigel’s support and they send their love.

Now, down to business. . .I may have mentioned to you my desire to write a book. For years, I have been deeply concerned about the state of the Maritime economy and the increasing gulf between the haves and the have-nots. When I travel around this region – the times I manage to extricate myself from my heavy workload in Ottawa – I am shocked by the lack of opportunity here. Recently, somebody (I can’t remember who) told me that the population is aging and that more and more people are actually leaving to get work elsewhere. Did you know that?

Well, that’s certainly a wake-up call and I think something should be done about it. Specifically, I think I should do something about it. After all, I am a member of this great country’s upper chamber. What’s more, I am a journalist by training and a story teller by temperament. (I once gave a speech, scheduled for half-an-hour, that ran on for 75 minutes; by the end, the audience could not recommend me too highly).

Nigel, here’s what I’m proposing. . .I will roll up my sleeves and get down to the nitty gritty of what makes this region tick. Why do some people seem to have it all and why do some. . .well, don’t? Why is there so much unfairness out there? Who’s to blame? What’s the solution?

I’ve considered throwing my support behind Maritime Union, but for the life of me I can’t figure out where the capital city should go. So, maybe that’s a non-starter. At the very least, however, I can leverage the not unappreciable respect my station in life affords me to get the urgent conversation going. I even have a working title: “A Tough Love Letter from Fat City.” Catchy – don’t you think?

At any rate, such a project will take time and, of course, money – about $90,000, in fact. And that, dear friend, brings me to you. I know you won’t let me down. After all, men like us. . .well, we’ve got to stick together.

Your enduring chum,

Senator Alejandro Brucellosis, Esq.

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When silence is golden

Ballooning blabbermouths in the Canadian House of Commons

Ballooning blabbermouths in the Canadian House of Commons

Now that the more rigorous aspects of Statistics Canada’s data collection functions are effectively hobbled, the nation awaits with breathless anticipation the arrival of alternatives. The more whimsical, it seems, the better.

Here comes one, courtesy of Samara, which bills itself as “a non-partisan charitable organization that works to improve political participation in Canada.” The happy collective with a staff of six takes its name from “the winged ‘helicopter’ seed that falls from the maple tree. A samara is a symbol of Canada, and a reminder that from small seeds, big ideas can grow.”

Like this one: “Canada’s House of Commons is really a House of Words – almost 8 million in 2012. But when it comes to debate on the floor of the Commons, some MPs have much more to say than others. What do 200,000 words, 70,000 words or 1000 words look like?”

Samara is glad you asked, because “thanks to several famous Canadian books, a bookshelf helps us visualize the differences. . .We’ve included the most talkative MPs, the least talkative, the leaders of the political parties and a few cabinet ministers.”

The group’s research, just released, shows that oratorily. . .um. . .speaking, New Democratic members are more verbose, by several magnitudes of order, than their political rivals. (The exception is Green Party Leader Elizabeth May, who never met a podium she couldn’t crash).

The top prize goes to NDipper Peter Julian (Burnaby-New Westminster) who uttered a grand total of 226,027 words during the 129 days the Commons sat last year. According to Samara, that’s roughly equivalent to reading out loud Rohinton Mistry’s “A Fine Balance”.

On the opposite end of the of the lip-flapping scale, Tory MP Keith Ashfield (Fredericton) issued a mere 922 bon mots, which is about the same number that fill the Robert Service poem, “The Cremation of Sam McGee”. (To be fair, Mr. Ashfield had been ill and, therefore, absent from the House last fall).

Other works of literary art various MPs might have recited in place of the greenhouse gases they actually issued include: Conrad Black’s “A Matter of Principle” (Liberal Kevin Lamoureux, Winnipeg North, 222,451 words); Ken Dryden’s “The Game” (Conservative Kellie Leitch, Simcoe-Grey, 120,835); Will Ferguson’s “419” (New Democrat Jack Harris, St. John’s East, 113,819); Rick Mercer’s “A Nation  Worth Ranting About” (New Democratic Leader Thomas Mulcair, Outremont, 44,498); and Kim Thuy’s “Ru” (Prime Minister Stephen Harper, Calgary Southwest, 26,758).

The research is intriguing. But is it instructive?

Surely, the quantity of speech is less important than the quality. When Mr. Mulcair inveighs against the sitting government’s policies for penal reform, do we afford him equal stature to Deputy House Leader Tom Lukiwski (who once spoke for six straight hours at committee) telling colleagues that television broadcasts of empty seats in the House “doesn’t look good for Parliament”?

In fact, the annals of democratic assemblies are littered with the spoken nonsense of their members. Business Insider reports, for example, that Senator Strom Thurmond (South Carolina) delivered what still remains the longest monologue in U.S. history. “In filibustering the Civil Rights Act of 1957,” the news source says, “Thurmond began speaking at 8:54 p.m. on August 28, 1957, and did not stop until 9:12 p.m. on the 29th. . .That rhetorical marathon took a lot of preparation. Here are some of the details, according to the Associated Press:

“Thurmond took a steam bath earlier in the day to rid his body of excess liquid. This avoided the potential for any ‘accidents’ in the chamber. He went to the floor armed with cough drops and malted milk tablets. He allowed others to make short remarks and ask questions during his time, allowing him to sneak off to the cloakroom to gobble a sandwich. He had his aide wait in the cloakroom with a pail when he was about to step down from the dais in case of an emergency evacuation.”

All of which may only suggest that verbal diarrhea is just one more bodily function best performed in private.

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Truths my father told me

Penny Bruce and her husband of 59 years, hanging loose at the Atlantic Journalism Awards

Penny Bruce and her husband of 59 years, hanging loose at the 2012 Atlantic Journalism Awards

The document, handsomely framed in some sort of gilded metal, certified that the holder  had received the gold award for “excellence” in the category of “lifetime achievement”. And a thought began to stir.

If one could qualify for a gold in such a competition, then, logically, others could merit a mere silver or bronze. How, I wondered, would it feel to receive an honourable mention for a lifetime of achievement in one’s chosen field of endeavor?

Close but no cigar, pal. You were good, but you weren’t that good. Better luck next time around on this mortal coil.

These are the sort of weighty issues the mind considers when the body is stuck in a chair for three hours watching two dozen people mount a podium to snatch their well-deserved trophies.

Only one, of course, earned the golden lifer’s nod at Saturday’s Atlantic Journalism Awards. And, in my thoroughly biased opinion, it couldn’t have gone to anyone other than my remarkably talented father, Harry Bruce.

Measuring professional achievement is usually a chump’s game, especially for people in our business. We’re not supposed to care about awards, which have a disturbing way of distracting us from tending the noble underpinnings of our craft, which are – for lack of  more original exhortations – to “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable” (courtesy of Finley Peter Dunne, American scribbler, circa 1867).

More recently (just this month in Esquire magazine, in fact), actor-activist Robert Redford mused on the meaning of achievement, telling writer Scott Raab, “We’re all heading to the same station. There’s a great line by T.S. Eliot: ‘There’s only the trying. The rest is not our business.’ Just keep trying. Do what you can, but don’t stop, and particularly don’t stop at that sign that says success. Run that light. Run that light.”

Fair enough. But, sometimes, we may permit ourselves the time to yield just long enough to recognize what true excellence looks like. Call it an exercise in Platonic reasoning: We become what we admire most.

Or, that’s the theory.

Growing up, I was aware that my father’s reputation in Canadian journalism was enormous. He was one of the true heavy-hitters on the field. He could write about anything – politics, business, sports, knot-tying – and make it sing. But if journalists of his calibre were as rare as snow in Hawaii, those of his character, his fundamental decency, were virtually extinct.

More often, those possessing a promethean skill with words had attended the Evelyn Waugh school of social comportment. For most of his working life, that famous, 20th Century, English novelist and essayist travelled through the stratosphere of his profession. And yet his son, Auberon, once wrote that his father was such a bully that, despite his short, physical stature, “generals and chancellors of the exchequer, six foot six and exuding self-importance from every pore, quailed in front of him.” Another contemporary described him as “the nastiest-tempered man in England.”

In contrast, my father was almost absurdly generous with his patience and praise. Perhaps that’s because he realized – as did his own father Charles Bruce, the Canadian Press journalist and Governor General’s-Award winning poet – that life is too damn short for anything else.

During his acceptance speech the other night, he touched on this basic truth when he reflected on his 59-year union with my mother, which, he said had “flashed by like a long weekend on a soft beach by a warm ocean.” (A classic Harryism, which had the predictable effect of animating every married woman in the room as they turned to their hapless husbands: “Why don’t you ever say things like that to me?”)

As he stepped down from the stage with his handsomely framed certificate, I had to smile, thinking about his “achievement” and whether the real gold in his hand had anything to do with his journalism, after all.

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Shale gas flows with hot air

Is what lies beneath enough?

Is what lies beneath enough?

At the current rate of progress, shale gas in New Brunswick is fast becoming the best-regulated industry that never was.

After two, exhaustive reports by independent auditors and a best-practice framework covering the dos and don’ts of resource exploration, extraction and production, the Alward government has now released a 37-page “blueprint” that ties up the whole, messy business with a bright, Tory-blue bow.

All this even before the industry, itself, has determined whether shale gas is, in fact, commercially viable. And yet, there are those who continue to believe the province is not going far enough to protect the interests of average citizens from the presumed avarice of the petroleum lobby.

The blueprint, say the opposition Liberals, is conspicuous for its lack of rigor. Quoted in news reports, environment critic Bernard LeBlanc said, “New Brunswickers’ environment and health are at risk based on the actions of this government moving forward. There are glaring oversights in this document, including a proper discussion about greenhouse gas emissions.”

Added Green Party Leader David Coon: “A lot of what is in the document says, ‘the government will continue to‘ or that things will be ‘ongoing’. It doesn’t contain much new and it leaves out considerable things.”

In fact, though, absent an actual gas-producing industry, the blueprint goes about as far as it can and, indeed, should.

Much of the debate over shale gas development in this province has been wildly chimeric – informed as much by horror stories about industry’s past abuses in small towns and communities south of the border as by engineering science and the lessons lawmakers elsewhere in North America have learned.

Far less attention has been paid to likelihood of commercially exploiting a proportion of the estimated 67 trillion cubic feet of shale gas that lays beneath the surface in quantities sufficient to justify the cost and inevitable disruption, let alone the regulatory regime. At the moment, that’s not a question boosters, opponents or even governments can answer.

In a letter to the editor, published by Newsday in March, Jannette M. Barth (who is described as “the founder of the Pepacton Institute, an economic research and consulting firm”) writes: “Gains from shale gas development in the United States are greatly exaggerated. Macroeconomic models do not capture regional, state or local impacts. It is possible that the combined losses at these less-aggregate levels will be greater than any macroeconomic gains.”

She continues: “Peer-reviewed research and other research not funded by the natural gas industry have found only modest short-term employment gains to regions with shale gas development. Research also shows that economic impacts concluded by industry-sponsored studies are likely overstated, and that regions with shale gas development end up worse off in the long run, with higher levels of unemployment and long-term poverty.

“A survey of municipalities in 12 Marcellus-area counties in Pennsylvania  found that while 26 percent of the municipalities experienced increased expenditures from Marcellus Shale development, 75 percent said it had not increased their revenue, indicating that costs to communities are increasing without any offsetting increase in revenue.”

New Brunswick industry types will almost certainly take issue with these conclusions, but even they are determined to inject a note of caution into the discussion. As Brunswick News reported on Friday, Contact Exploration president Steve Harding thinks “there has been so much energy that has gone into this potential resource and, to be fair, that’s all it is today. We haven’t been able to quantify it as something that is commercial.”

Barbara Pike, executive director of the Maritimes Energy Association, concurs: “The fact that the government recognizes that we still don’t know whether there is a substantial onshore natural gas industry in New Brunswick. . is important.”

Until they do – know, that is – there’s not much point is wasting further breath on fanciful predictions of either doom or boom. If and when the industry decides to pull the trigger, that’s when a true, independent analysis of its claims should inform public policy and draft the next, and final, blueprint for New Brunswick’s energy future.

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The sky’s the limit for Canuck in space

The future is what you make of it. . .Up. . .up. . .in the air

The future is what you make of it. . .Up. . .up. . .in the air

When I grow up, I want to be Chris Hadfield – minus the mustache.

In fact, the first Canadian astronaut to command the International Space Station (he returns to terra firma on Monday) perfectly mirrors my own youthful ambitions, if not actual experiences.

He’s almost exactly my age (we both graduated high school in 1978). He can fly 70 different types of aircraft (I once took the controls of a Cessna for about five seconds). He’s on a first-name basis with Captain Kirk (I once tripped over William Shatner’s carry-on at Pearson Airport). He plays the guitar (so do I. . .sort of).

There, alas, the similarities end.

Where the mere thought of spending months on end sealed up in a metal can hundreds of kilometers above our planetary orb is enough to give me a panic attack, Mr. Hadfield seems to relish his splendid isolation. He even wrote a song about it (with Barenaked Ladies’ frontman Ed Robertson).

“Eighteen thousand miles an hour/Fueled by science and solar power/The oceans racing past/At half a thousand tons/Ninety minutes Moon to Sun/A bullet can’t go half this fast/Floating from my seat/Look out my window/There goes Home (There goes home)/That brilliant ball of blue/Is where I’m from, and also where I’m going to.”

Catchy. Last week, Mr. Hadfield warbled his ditty, “ISS – Is Somebody Singing?” – from space. According to a CBC News report, “students, musicians and other participants from across Canada and as far away as Singapore and Australia sang along. . .The concert (was his) final live link from the space station before he returns to Earth on May 13.”

Indeed, the high-flying voyager has been a busy guy since he docked with his orbiting home away from home on December 21. Deftly using social media to communicate with his terrestrial brethren, he helped the Bank of Canada unveil its new, plastic $5 bill (he noted that the currency illustrates “how we can reach new heights of innovation”).

He also demonstrated that weightlessness, though challenging, need not preclude every day chores, such as brushing teeth, making sandwiches or sopping up spilled water. As National Post columnist Joe O’Connor observed in February, Mr. Hadfield “put on a goofy outfit to celebrate Mardi Gras. . .dropped a puck from the heavens on Hockey Night in Canada, fixed some space station gizmo of great scientific importance while sending out a daily stream of majestic photographs of the Earth below – the Sahara, the Australian Outback, the blinding lights of Beijing  via Twitter, Facebook and Youtube.”

The highlight, perhaps, was his twitter conversation with Canadian-born actor William Shatner (AKA James Tiberius Kirk of Star Trek fame) In January.

Mr. Shatner: “Are you tweeting from space?”

Mr. Hadfield: “Yes, Standard Orbit, Captain. And we’re detecting signs of life on the surface.”

All of which moved Stephen Quick, director of the Ottawa-based Canada Aviation and Space Museum, to tell Mr. O’Connor, “Chris is a rock star, there is no two ways about it. We’ve seen it from the beginning with Chris. We’ve had him in here to do briefings on how to fly a CF-18, and on training for space, and he is as adept at talking to a six-year-old with stars in their eyes as he is talking to the governor-general or a head of state. He tunes into that person. He has this vibrant personality, this twinkle in his eye, and it is almost a mischievous twinkle.”

At a time when interest in science is waning and only the grizzled among us can remember the excitement and wonder the Apollo moon landings inspired so many long decades ago, Mr. Hadfield’s demonstrable competence and enthusiasm renews faith in the efficacy of human endeavor. And his good homour is infectious.

Now that this Mr. Dressup of near space, this Pied Piper of the cosmos, this indisputable Voice of God to countless four-year-olds (including my grandson) prepares to rejoin us on the surface, a thought inevitably occurs.

If Mr. Hadfield ever decides to remove his mustache, certain candidates for high political office in Canada should start watching their backs.

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Applying social values to good science

Seing the forest for the trees. . .

Seeing the forest for the trees. . .

The contention that science, or at least its pursuit, should benefit society is hardly revolutionary. Where things get sticky is in front of the cameras as politicians explain what they mean when they modify the noun, “research”, with the adjective, “useful”.

So it was on Tuesday when Gary Goodyear, the federal minister of state for science and technology, announced that, henceforth, the National Research Council will concentrate on helping Canadian industry become more innovative and competitive.

“The day is past when a researcher could hit a home run by publishing a paper on some new discovery,” he told an Ottawa news conference. “The home run is when somebody utilizes the knowledge that was discovered for social and economic gain.”

The implication is that the NRC has been spending too much of its time doing “basic” science, and not enough time helping businesses commercialize promising, new technologies. In fact, Mr. Goodyear is explicit when he says, “Our businesses are not doing the research that they need to do. So something had to be done.”

But if the NRC has been a laggard in the nuts-and-bolts, dollars-and-cents world of applied science, then what are we to make of its government-approved website? It clearly states this: “The National Research Council (NRC) is the Government of Canada’s premier research and technology organization (RTO). RTOs are mission-oriented providers of innovation services to firms and governments, dedicated to building economic competitiveness and, in doing so, improving quality of life.”

And this: “NRC partners with Canadian industry to take research impacts from the lab to the marketplace, where people can experience the benefits. This market-driven focus delivers innovation faster, enhances people’s lives and addresses some of the world’s most pressing problems. We are responsive, creative and uniquely placed to partner with Canadian industry, to invest in strategic R&D programming that will address critical issues for our future.”

And this: “Each year our scientists, engineers and business experts work closely with thousands of Canadian firms, helping them bring new technologies to market. We have the people, expertise, services, licensing opportunities, national facilities and global networks to support Canadian businesses.”

Far from describing itself as a college of eggheads who sit around in their lab coats screeching “Eureka!” at every arcane discovery they make, it lists its main areas of R&D in proudly pragmatic terms: aerospace, information and communications technologies, security and disruptive technologies, construction, medical devices, energy, mining, and the environment.

It is, of course, entirely possible that the organization’s website is less a reflection of reality than wishful thinking by business-oriented bureaucrats. But that still wouldn’t undermine the NRC’s long track record of useful innovations over the years.

Here’s one from the Council’s archives: “Long before fictional forensic investigators with fancy crime-busting gadgets became popular entertainment, the Canadian Mounties were using some of the world’s best detection equipment to sniff out hidden weapons. Developed by a soft-spoken NRC scientist, the portable bomb sniffer became the standard of explosives detection in international aviation security.”

Here’s another: “The Canadian Prairies are blanketed with millions of acres of bright yellow canola fields. The crop is used in dozens of products, including cooking oil, mayonnaise and printing ink. Over the past five decades, researchers at NRC have transformed a minor crop into one of our country’s most valuable assets.”

And another: “The dedicated researchers at the National Research Council have produced many significant medical technologies and advancements, but perhaps two of the most important are the first practical motorized wheelchair and the first artificial pacemaker. Through these developments, NRC scientists have improved the quality of life of millions of people around the world.”

Mr. Goodyear’s determination to ensure that the NRC sticks ever more closely to its knitting in the field of practical science may be laudable. But is it actually necessary?

The distinction between “basic” and “applied” science is real. As a public institution, however, the Council has pursued the former quite often in the interests of latter as a matter of course (and in accord with its mandate).

Defining what’s “useful”, then, has less to do with science than semantics.

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Social bonding: Give till it works

No political ties bind the moral authority of non-partisan giving

No political ties bind the moral authority of non-partisan giving

Those of us who bother to vote maintain a defiantly imbecilic relationship with the governments we elect. We require them to provide us with all the services we’ve come to expect even as we castigate them for spending our hard-earned dough.

Less government is good government until, of course, we want more. This is the dance public officials perform for us as they attempt to balance their responsibilities to making sound public policy and the more practical consideration of surviving the next rush to the ballot box.

Given the truly wretched condition of many western governments’ balance sheets these days, it’s not surprising that a “third” way is emerging or that Ottawa is taking a good, hard look at it as a way to underwrite program spending and, in the process, save a few bucks. It’s called social investing and, according to the Center for American Progress, it works a little like this:

“In the social impact bond model, a government contracts with a private-sector financing intermediary we’ll call a ‘social impact bond-issuing organization’ (SIBIO) to obtain social services. The government pays the bond-issuing organization entirely or almost entirely depending on whether it achieves performance targets. If the bond issuer fails to achieve the minimum required target, the government does not pay.”

Meanwhile, “The SIBIO raises operating funds by issuing bonds to private investors who provide upfront capital in exchange for a share of the government payments that will become available if the performance targets are met. The bond issuer uses the operating funds to contract with service providers to deliver the services necessary to meet the performance targets.”

The Center concludes that the model is probably not a silver bullet. Still, it observes, “any new tool with the potential to accelerate solutions in even a subset of our most pressing social problems is an important breakthrough – one that deserves careful consideration from the policymaking, philanthropic, and investment communities.”

Certainly, that’s what the Conservative government of the United Kingdom thinks. It is widely credited with getting the ball rolling for social impact bonds in 2010 when, according to an item in theguardian.com, “a pioneering plan announced by the government. . .could eventually (transform) the way much welfare work is financed. . .

Private investors will pay for a project to rehabilitate prisoners and receive a return on their money if reoffending rates drop.”

Now, the Globe and Mail reports, the Government of Canada has issued a list of works that it believes are suited to this type of programming-cum-funding, including those “to build housing for people with disabilities, reduce recidivism among young offenders or encourage more young aboriginals to learn a skilled trade. Ottawa said it will work with interested groups toward launching projects.”

Naturally, many will worry that the approach gives governments too much control over the social agenda – that they will cherry pick their worthy causes, filtered through their ideological sieves. But, in fact, that’s what governments do anyway.

A more practical concern involves the precise definition of “performance targets” and how this incentivizes the assumption of risk among investors. As the Center for American Progress observes, “Contractors may require large fees in order to accept performance risk, or they may decline to bid altogether. These systems create strong incentives to manipulate outcomes measures or to focus excessively on those aspects of performance that are rewarded in the incentive-payment system.”

On the other hand, “because the bond issuer spreads the risk across its bond holders, it will be substantially more risk tolerant than would be a non-profit service provider in a direct performance contract.”

All of which may only mean that social impact bonds aren’t for everyone or, more accurately, for every social problem.

Still, it is heartening that these instruments are attracting support from people and organizations on all points of the political spectrum, suggesting, for once, that governments do occasionally get things right.

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Are Canada’s oil sands on shaky ground?

The tar sands may be moot in moments, people!

The tar sands may be moot in moments, people!

There he went again, raining all over Canada’s petroleum parade with the sort of gusto one expects from a former American vice president, nobel laureate and, arguably, the planet’s leading climate-change critic.

Al Gore thinks the nation to the north of him has lost its way and in an interview published in Saturday’s Globe and Mail, he pulled no punches. “The resource curse has multiple dimensions,” he said, “and [that includes] damage to some extremely beautiful landscapes, not to mention the core issue of adding to the reckless spewing of pollution into the Earth’s atmosphere as if it’s an open sewer.”

To which Canada’s Natural Resource Minister Joe Oliver shot back (again, in an interview with the Globe), “Well, he’s off the mark. . .[Those were] wildly inaccurate and exaggerated comments.”

This is not the first time the two gentlemen have sparred over Alberta’s oil sands, which occupy a tract of land about the size of England (though only a fraction of this is actually under development) and which can be seen from space. And it won’t be the last. As the glittering example all that’s wrong with our greedy, self-destructive, fossil-fuel-addicted society, this bitumen-producing region is, for environmentalists, simply too sexy to resist.

Still, though they continue to provoke discussion, there is some indication that their battles over the production of synthetic crude are becoming less relevant to the global energy debate, which is moving in increasingly new and intriguing directions.

British Columbia’s Liberal Leader Christy Clark, who is campaigning for a second term as the province’s premier, touched on this the other day when she told the Globe’s editorial board, “The pipelines that are of most interest to British Columbians are liquefied natural gas,” she said. “That’s something we can do and we don’t need the federal government and we don’t need Alberta.”

It’s the sort of statement that comes with the electioneering territory. But at least one decidedly sober source openly wonders whether our conventional attitudes and assumptions about petroleum products deserve a makeover.

One such assumption is that the world is running out of commercially exploitable reserves, a condition that makes the still plentiful Alberta fields crucially important. But, as Charles C. Mann notes in the Atlantic magazine’s cover story this month, “Even as companies drain off the easy oil, innovation keeps pushing down the cost of getting the rest. From this vantage, the race between declining oil and advancing technology determines the size of a reserve – not the number of hydrocarbon molecules.”

Mr. Mann says, “This perspective has a corollary: natural resources cannot be used up. If one deposit gets too expensive to drill, social scientists (most of them economists) say, people will either find cheaper deposits or shift to a different energy source altogether. Because the costliest stuff is left in the ground, there will always be petroleum to mine later. ‘When will the world’s supply of oil be exhausted?’ asked the MIT economist Morris Adelman, perhaps the most important exponent of this view. ‘The best one-word answer: never.’ Effectively, energy supplies are infinite.”

The article’s author does not endorse this argument; he merely raises it by way of explaining that technology is transforming our notions of what is and is not exploitable   – just as it once did in Alberta. Now, shale gas from hydraulic fracturing is flooding the North American marketplace, promising to do the once unthinkable: make the United States energy self-sufficient in less than 20 years.

And, on the horizon, is another, even more promising, fossil fuel source awaiting the steady march of innovation to set it free. “In the 1970s, geologists discovered crystalline natural gas – methane hydrate, in the jargon – beneath the seafloor,” Mr. Mann explains. “Stored mostly in broad, shallow layers on continental margins, methane hydrate exists in immense quantities; by some estimates, it is twice as abundant as all other fossil fuels combined.”

It’s also much cleaner and, therefore, potentially less costly (environmentally and financially) to produce.

But if all this sounds like so much science fiction, it’s worth remembering that’s what the experts once said about shale gas and, yes, Alberta’s oil sands when technology was still in its infancy.

The future is about to give bitumen a run for its money.

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