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Problem-making

Alan Irwin and Maja Horst

All forms of research have their problems. But often it seems that this is especially true of interdisciplinary research (Fitzgerald et al. 2014). In this essay, we consider two dimensions of problem-making. Our approach is to introduce these and then to explore them with reference to one case of interdisciplinary research collaboration. This will then lead us to three lessons regarding problem-making in an interdisciplinary context which we think have larger significance beyond this specific case.

Before we get into this, however, it is important to observe that the notion of ‘a problem’ has a significant history within the human sciences and philosophy. As Thomas Osborne notes, the very definition of ‘problem’ has been greatly debated. As he inquires, ‘What after all is a problem?’ (Osborne 2003: 2). Alongside this definitional discussion, one can also find an extended series of reflections on ‘problematization’. For Foucauldian scholars, ‘problematization’ generally refers to the social and cultural processes whereby certain phenomena become defined as problematic: madness, crime and delinquency, expressions of sexuality (see, for example, Foucault 1985). Osborne, drawing upon Foucault but also a selective comparison of Georges Canguilhem and Henri Bergson, has made the case for what he calls ‘historical problematology’ – an approach that involves attention to the diagnosing of problems, to the generation of solutions but also to a larger ethical commitment which presents the multiplication of problems ‘as a sort of critical virtue in itself’ (Osborne 2003: 15).

Clearly, notions such as ‘problem’, ‘problematization’ and ‘problem-making’ need to be seen in larger intellectual context but also used with considerable care. In what follows, we have opted for the term ‘problem-making’ as a means of acknowledging the connection to especially Foucauldian scholarship but also emphasizing the link to questions of method and methodology. Drawing upon the previous discussion, we present ‘problem-making’ as incorporating two significant dimensions.

The first dimension relates to what can be termed the ‘social construction of problems’, that is, the political, cultural and institutional processes through which parts of social life come to be seen as a problem (whether ‘immigration’ within recent European and US elections, or disagreements between professionals about how to tackle a particular question or concern). Considering this dimension in explicitly Foucauldian terms, one can think of it as the institutional and cultural movement between everyday difficulties, questions or challenges and the sense of a problem which needs a specific and practical solution.

The second dimension of problem-making relates to analytical strategy (Andersen 2003): usually, where the researcher finds a problem or dilemma which attracts her attention but which may be less apparent or interesting to the investigated subjects (why is ‘immigration’ considered to be a problem in areas where there has in fact been very little immigration? What are the challenges of interdisciplinary collaboration?). Problem-making here is closer to a research procedure or process with analytical attention drawn to often-unacknowledged or unrecognized paradoxes, points of tension or contradictions. To take an example from research around public engagement with science, this might mean exploring the relationship between governmental talk about ‘open dialogue’ and the actual organization of specific consultation processes (Irwin 2001). The problem here (put a little strongly) is how political rhetoric around democracy can clash with – or even contradict – the mundane realities of consultation. The point is that this ‘problem’ might be much more apparent – and interesting – to the science and technology studies (STS) researcher than for the consultation organizers themselves.

One is of course tempted to see the first as a ‘social’ process and the second as a ‘method’. But what then is the connection between these two forms of problem-making? Is the researcher doing something fundamentally different from the research participants or else participating in the same sense-making process? For us, this question raises issues both concerning the valuing of knowledge claims within the social sciences but also of an ethical and political nature: why should the problems of social scientists be accorded greater value than those of others and what is the responsibility of the social scientist when constructing problems? If social scientists simply affirm the problem categories of social actors, then one can reasonably question what they add to the current situation. If they identify whole new problems, then why should these problems be given precedence over others and what is the relationship to actors’ own problems? As we will discuss, these issues come especially to the fore when as social scientists we offer accounts that generate problems in a manner which can disconcert, provoke or annoy research participants and collaborators.

In our research, we have stumbled into these issues many times: including when giving academic accounts of the activities of policymakers or conducting qualitative research into public understandings of risk. But here we will focus on just one case, namely the interdisciplinary collaboration of one of the authors (Maja Horst) with a group of synthetic biologists. The intention behind this collaboration was to bring the perspectives of the social science and humanities (or SSH – in this case, including STS, science communication and philosophy) into a close working relationship with a cross-disciplinary group of scientists actively working in this field (for a rather different account of a similar collaboration see Rabinow and Bennett 2012).

As such collaborations go, this has been a mainly successful experience. In particular, the management of the project has been very open and respectful about the kinds of knowledges represented by Maja and her research group. The Synbio Management is keen to integrate the various disciplinary aspects and to share projects and work. However, this does not mean that the collaboration has been without challenges. In particular, Maja and her group encountered difficulties in connection with the writing of an academic paper. In our experience, this can often be a crucial point in any interdisciplinary collaboration: how do those who are the focus of research react to a formal and externally directed account of their activities, often written in an unfamiliar academic language and offering a form of ‘valuing’ which might seem rather alien?

The paper in question focused on a series of cross-disciplinary discussion groups that did not quite work as intended. Despite the stated wish of the synthetic biologists to engage more with SSH research, rather few showed up to the specially organized workshops introducing the area. It seemed that the overall commitment to interdisciplinarity was not reflected in the everyday operation of the collaboration. This ‘problem’ caught the attention of Maja’s group which then began to consider why this was the case. In their paper, Maja and colleagues made an effort to investigate this interdisciplinary problem from different viewpoints, including that of the philosopher who had tried to organize the workshops, the young scientists who seemed less willing to collaborate than expected and the (scientific) project management team. These different viewpoints were then presented as three perspectives on ‘the challenges of collaboration’. The broad conclusion was that, rather than primarily representing a matter of mutual disrespect, ignorance or embedded hostility to interdisciplinarity, various actors can have well-founded professional and career-related reasons for not engaging in this form of collaboration.

However, the Synbio Management was not happy with the paper. Putting it very simply, what the social scientists considered as measured analysis, they understood as criticism of the collaboration. What was seen as critical distance, they thought of as letting the collaboration down. What was intended as an honest admission of collective shortcomings, they had to struggle not to see as betrayal. They also expressed confusion as to the whole point of the paper. Why not stress the positives rather than being so critical? Surely the main issue is how we can develop legitimate forms of science to make the world a better place? Why are you writing about things that risk making collaboration even harder? Why, in short, are you making these issues into a problem?

The process of negotiations over the paper took more than half a year, and finished with a kind of truce. Not everyone agreed, but the discussion made certain things clearer. First of all, the whole interdisciplinary collective managed to maintain a collegial (if sometimes tough) dialogue right to the end. Second, however, the group simply had to give up explaining to the synbio scientists why a paper of this sort was important. The scientists accepted that Maja and her colleagues needed to write it and trusted their professional integrity, but they were never at ease with the paper. In that sense, they simply did not give the paper the kind of value that Maja and colleagues were hoping for. Nevertheless, and largely stimulated by these discussions, Maja, her group and the scientists are now working on a joint paper-writing initiative with a focus on making synthetic biology more socially robust. Third, we have to report, the paper-writing process has not up till now been successful. The paper in question has not yet been accepted for publication. Of course, Maja and her colleagues are left to wonder whether the compromises made during the internal discussion somehow took away the paper’s edge. While we would prefer to view these interdisciplinary discussions in productive terms, it is undeniable that they can create demands beyond those of more conventional mono-disciplinary social science.

For the present authors, this whole episode provides a space for reflection about problem-making both as a social process and as an analytical strategy or method – and also about the value placed on certain forms of problems in specific settings. We could of course tell this as a story of heroic social scientists struggling against a powerful scientific establishment. But who says that the synbio scientists were not right? Perhaps this was their way of expressing vulnerability in the face of institutions (especially funders) that they saw as more powerful? Equally, there could be more than one form of truth at work here, suggesting also that dispute over the ‘real’ problems in any situation will reflect more fundamental differences, disagreements and tensions. For now, and in the spirit of a conclusion, we will draw the following lessons for problem-making.

First, and perhaps most obviously, the choice of ‘problems’ in any given context is not necessarily straightforward. Instead, there are likely to be multiple problem definitions available. This means that social scientists are inevitably engaged in a process of social construction and selection of which problems to prioritize and value. Seen in this way, the two dimensions of problem-making presented earlier do not seem so very far apart. In our opinion, it is time for a renewed discussion of the normative and intellectual bases for such prioritization and valuation decisions – particularly within interdisciplinary research. One example of this could relate to the treatment of power. Leaders of large cutting-edge science laboratories can be seen as fair game by SSH research (as the aforementioned Rabinow and Bennett analysis seems to demonstrate). Compared to the sense of insecurity and marginality often experienced by researchers in the social sciences and humanities, well-funded and high-profile scientific facilities can seem very robust indeed – and perhaps therefore deserving of challenge. However, might we not want to reflect a little more deeply about the assumption of innocence on the part of SSH, and cognitive and institutional power on the part of natural science? More generally, in contexts where multiple problems are in existence (or can be brought into existence), the intellectual and ethical implications of problem-making need to be carefully reflected upon and debated.

Second, problem-making is by no means the exclusive preserve of the academic social scientist (for a related argument regarding reflexivity, see Lynch 2000). Certainly, the interdisciplinary collaborators described above were highly productive problem generators: from the problems of building scientific careers in this pressured context to those of research managers in holding such a group together. SSH researchers are often rather good at identifying problems and this is a long and important tradition in our disciplines but, again, it might be time to reflect upon our own assumptions and valuations. We would suggest that it can also be useful to work with the problems of other actors rather than simply taking it for granted that one occupies an elevated place in this regard.

Third, far from being a disadvantage of interdisciplinarity, these contestations and problem-makings can be a major benefit. One of the strengths of interdisciplinarity is that it can open up the problem definitions and valuations of social science and humanities scholars to external scrutiny and challenge. One can choose to be offended by this, seeing it as an affront to one’s professional standing and expertise. For us, this would have the general consequence of raising disciplinary boundaries – and perhaps decreasing the perceived value of social scientific research. Interdisciplinary collaboration might, at times, involve robust exchange, periods of self-doubt, discomfort and challenge to established traditions on all sides. But that might also be its very point.

As we have demonstrated, ‘problem-making’ from a social scientific perspective provokes many further questions, ambiguities and issues. We have explored some of these but also suggested that the notion possesses important strengths – and, more generally, productive possibilities. In the case explored here, and despite the acknowledged difficulties, the focus on problem-making allowed a cross-disciplinary dialogue, shared focus and sustained reflection that conventional research methods and procedures, developed primarily by and for researchers themselves, would simply not permit.

Problem-making can be viewed both as a process of social construction and as an analytical method. In the end, our argument is that these should not be seen as alternatives. Instead, an awareness of larger processes of social construction should inform the kinds of problem-making engaged in by researchers. And the problems identified by researchers should contribute to wider reflections on social and institutional challenges – including the identification of political and organizational problems. In that way, problem-making becomes central to the goals and methods of interdisciplinary research.

References

Andersen, N. A. (2003). Discursive Analytical Strategies: Understanding Foucault, Koselleck, Laclau, Luhmann. Bristol: The Policy Press.

Fitzgerald, D., Littlefield, M. M., Knudsen, K. J., Tonks, J. and Dietz, M. J. (2014). Ambivalence, equivocation and the politics of experimental knowledge: a transdisciplinary neuroscience encounter. Social Studies of Science, 44(5): 701–721.

Foucault, M. (1985). The Use of Pleasure. New York: Penguin.

Irwin, A. (2001). Constructing the scientific citizen: science and democracy in the biosciences. Public Understanding of Science, 10(1): 1–18.

Lynch, M. (2000). Against reflexivity as an academic virtue and source of privileged knowledge. Theory, Culture and Society, 17(3): 26–54.

Osborne, T. (2003). What is a problem? History of the Human Sciences, 16(4): 1–17.

Rabinow, P. and Bennett, G. (2012). Designing Human Practices: An Experiment with Synthetic Biology. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago.