The developed world is now dependent on science-based technology. Some technologies, such as nuclear power, have produced problems as well as benefits for society. How should we decide on whether or not to introduce a new industrial/ agricultural technology?
There is a recent trend to decide such matters using grave caution as the primary consideration - the precautionary principle (discussed by David Appell, Scientific American, January 2001). This principle aims to protect health and the environment, but I would argue that moderation rather than zeal should guide its application.
A strong form of the precautionary principle would hold that where a threat of harm to human health or the environment could result from the introduction of a new technology, or from a current activity, then strong precautionary measures should be taken, even when science can produce little or no evidence of harm to people or the environment. For example, the application of this principle would ban the planting of genetically modified crops.
You cannot live a life without caution, but a life ruled by caution is a poor thing. As Buddha sagely remarked: "Life is difficult." One must strike a balance between caution and risk-taking and this is very often difficult.
How we look on risk determines how cautious we feel. There is no such thing as riskfree activity, so demanding guarantees of absolute safety in any area is to look for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
Say you decided to live in bed to avoid exposing yourself to the world's risks. Unfortunately your precautions would ensure that your muscles would waste away from disuse and you would have no protection against an aircraft falling from the sky on to your house. Risk is our constant companion.
Consider electricity. Modern living would be unthinkable without it. But electricity is undoubtedly dangerous - people are electrocuted every year, electrical fires occur, and so on. However, I never hear calls to ban the use of electricity, because its advantages are clearly so enormous, and we understand the risks and can effectively guard against them.
If electricity were a recently discovered phenomenon, would it overcome a strong precautionary principle and be introduced today as a new technology?
If a strong precautionary principle had been rigidly enforced throughout history, perhaps little technological progress would have occurred. Would this principle ever have allowed the discovery of fire to be exploited to provide physical comfort and to convert tough and unhygienic foods into tender, tasty and safe meals?
Would this principle have persuaded everybody to live and die close to their birthplace, since exploration of unknown parts was obviously perilous? Would it ever have allowed the development of air travel, let alone travel to the moon? Now consider motor-cars. We have decided as a society that the benefits of motor-cars are so impressive that a family equipped with less than two cars is becoming increasingly uncommon. We are so impressed by the motor-car that we largely turn a blind eye to the annual carnage of road death and maiming. Our analysis of motor-cars is deeply flawed. Many of us drive less than 25 miles a day, mostly at a snail's pace through congested city streets, sitting alone in family-sized saloons, placing ourselves at significant risk and polluting the environment. All of this driving could be done in intrinsically safe, two-seater, electrically powered non-polluting vehicles.
So, how should we decide on whether or not to introduce a new technology that carries clearly discernible risks but also offers great advantages?
It seems to me that the sensible way to go is to compare the advantages to the disadvantages and, if the ratio is sufficiently high, to go ahead with the technology, but not before ensuring that we fully understand the risks and that we can reduce them to a very low and acceptable level. This is a moderate form of the precautionary principle.
Based on this moderate criterion, I would reject nuclear power as a viable energy option under present circumstances, but I would probably accept a very cautious exploration of genetically modified food. To be fair, most official expressions of the precautionary principle are rather moderate in tone, but there is a strong pressure to mutate the principle into a strong form. The precautionary principle in its strong form would oppose any new technology not carrying a guarantee of safety.
Why are we so blase about the very real risks associated with activities such as motoring, and so fearful of things such as exposure to very low-level radiation where the risks are undoubtedly low and where science can produce little or no evidence of harm?
Familiarity is an important part of the answer. We are familiar with motor-cars, and "familiarity breeds contempt"; we are unfamiliar with radiation and confronting the unknown breeds caution.
We cannot avoid risk, so the only option is to manage risk sensibly. If we are to continue to make progress, risk will be inevitably involved. The urge to advance is intrinsic to the human condition and we must responsibly exercise this urge if we are to live decent lives.
We have an obligation to reduce necessary risk to a very low and acceptable level, but apart from that we must go on. As the station sergeant in Hill Street Blues says: "Let's be careful out there". If he adopted a strong precautionary principle he would say: "Let's stay in the station house. It's too dangerous out there."
William Reville is a senior lecturer in biochemistry and director of microscopy at UCC