Seven reasons for keeping Elon Musk as a Fellow of the Royal Society

 

Last November, I wrote a blogpost explaining why I had resigned as a Fellow of the Royal Society (FRS). In brief, over the summer a group of 74 FRSs asked the RS Council to consider revoking Musk's FRS on the grounds that he had attempted to interfere with British politics by spreading disinformation with the aim of stirring up unrest. The Council took advice, considered carefully and concluded that nothing should be done. I discussed this decision with senior figures in the RS and presented them with additional evidence of Musk's unsuitability for the honour of FRS. I was told that they could take another look, but they had to abide by the procedures laid out in the Statutes, and this could take some time. Last week I heard that the Council had met again to discuss this issue and come to the same conclusion: nothing should be done.  

It's hard to evaluate their reasoning, as no details have been given. Colleagues of mine who remain as FRSs occasionally report snippets of information they have heard from members of Council, but these have been inconsistent and unreliable. But meanwhile, I've had many members of the public contact me about this issue. The majority are strongly supportive of my position; even those who were on the fence leapt off it after the infamous "Roman" salute. Musk's involvement in the dissolution of US academic institutions, achieved by suppressing some of their activities and starving them of funds, has further solidified opinion against him. But few FRSs have spoken out. Such information that I've gleaned has come from informal contacts, where I've heard seven different arguments against the expulsion of Elon Musk.  Given that I've previously laid out a set of reasons in favour of Musk's expulsion,  in the interests of balance,  I present here the counter arguments.  

1. Musk should not have his FRS withdrawn because he does important and innovative scientific research, and is a role model for scientists worldwide. 

In fact, I include this one for completeness, but I've not encountered a single person who has made this case.  It seems generally accepted that he is the antithesis of the scholarly ideal set out by Jacob Bronowski (2008: Science and Human Values) - if you turn all the negative statements to positives, and positives to negatives, this is a fair description of Musk: 

... they do not make wild claims, they do not cheat, they do not try to persuade at any cost, they appeal neither to prejudice nor to authority, they are often frank about their ignorance, their disputes are fairly decorous, they do not confuse what is being argued with race, politics, sex or age, they listen patiently to the young and to the old who both know everything. These are the general virtues of scholarship, and they are particularly the virtues of science.  

Instead, I've seen a weary procession of arguments that all begin with someone saying "Of course, Musk is terrible but we shouldn't expel him because...."  

2. The Royal Society can't be political.  

This argument has some merit. On the one hand, the Royal Society is a registered charity, and on the other hand it offers science policy advice to government. As this blogpost from the Charity Commission makes clear: 

 Charities are required to be independent and cannot have political purposes, and this is important for public trust in charities. As such, charities must never stray into party politics – they must never promote, or be seen to promote, a political party or candidate. As trustees and charity leaders you must protect your charity’s reputation and not allow your organisation to be used as a vehicle for the expression of the party-political views of any individual trustee, employee, political party, or candidate.

There are two reasons why I think the expulsion of Musk is entirely compatible with the Charity Commission rules.  

First, there are plenty of reasons to object to Musk's FRS that have nothing to do with politics. He has repeatedly used his social media platform to attack Anthony Fauci, a respected scientist and Foreign Member of the Royal Society. This is not usual academic discourse: it is calling for Fauci to be prosecuted, and blaming him for medical crimes. Fauci needs personal security protection because there is credible threat to his life, stirred up by various factions who disapproved of his role in the Covid-19 pandemic - including Musk, who loathed having restrictions on movement imposed and is now arguing that Fauci's research somehow caused the pandemic. It is easy to find examples of Musk's attacks on Fauci by Googling for "Musk Fauci" - e.g. this piece in the New York Post. 

Other reasons are provided in my blogpost: lack of appropriate regulatory approval for Neuralink, and spreading of disinformation about climate science and vaccinations. 

Second, the fact that Musk also does overtly political things shouldn't make people timid about disapproving of his other actions. And most of Musk's political activities are part and parcel of his disinformation campaigns, and can be objected to on the grounds that they are dishonest. 

In sum, if the Royal Society were to campaign against the Reform Party, that would be improper. But to dissociate themselves from the spreading of disinformation seems to me to be a valid and desirable activity, compatible with their charitable status, and their stated aims: 

The Society ... is a registered charity, undertaking a range of activities that provide public benefit either directly or indirectly. As a national academy, it represents the UK and collaborates with international partners to advocate for science and its benefits.  

3. The Royal Society has other odious people as Fellows. 

I was amused to see this argument trotted out in a couple of pieces in the media - first in the Spectator by Toby Young (someone whose own ennoblement has raised eyebrows), and then by Jawad Iqbal in the Times. Both pieces noted that James Watson remained an FRS despite his abhorrent views on eugenics. Iqbal also noted that Prince Andrew had been made a Royal Fellow in 2013. This was perhaps an unwise example to use, given that Prince Andrew's name quietly disappeared from the list of Fellows in 2022, after he was encouraged to resign from a number of honours.

I haven't heard this case made by many FRSs, and maybe that's because they can see what a grubby argument it is. But there is more appetite for a related point:  

4. Expelling Musk could set a dangerous precedent.

As it happens, some people who contacted me after my resignation have taken the opportunity to tell me about other dodgy FRSs - not because they adopt argument 3, but on the contrary, because they think that if the Royal Society were to start taking its Code of Conduct seriously, there are others who should also be looked at. One can see that this line of argument might generate a degree of nervousness among Council members.  

5. Musk's supporters might say bad things about the Royal Society if he were expelled.  

There's three versions of this: (a) they'd say the RS was political (see point 2); (b) they'd say the RS was 'woke', and (c) they'd say RS was 'elitist'.  

These arguments remind me all too sadly of the decline in the state of debate in British politics. It seems to be accepted as a defensible line of argument these days to warn against doing something that you know to be right because someone else might, either mischievously or sincerely, misattribute your motives for doing so. The solution is to state clearly what your reasons are, and not get derailed by name-calling. If the Royal Society is really worried about reputational damage, then they should realise that being designated as 'woke' or 'elitist' by your opponents is far less of an insult than being described as cowardly by your friends.  

6. There could be bad consequences for science and scientists if Musk were expelled. 

This argument sounds suspiciously like a case for appeasement of a bully. History has taught us that appeasement does not end well. Indeed, even in the past weeks, we've seen various academic organisations and institutions scrabbling to obey directives from the Trump regime to remove all mention of diversity, equality and inclusion from their documents and websites: it has not saved them from the depredations of DOGE. Philip Ball has written in Chemistry World about the tendency for institutions to show "anticipatory obedience" and the importance of resistance.  

A more specific version of this argument maintains that it could make matters worse for Anthony Fauci if the Royal Society were to expel Musk, particularly if his attacks on Fauci were cited as a reason. Sadly enough, it seems to me we have here what scientists call a floor effect - i.e. the situation for Fauci is so bad - with serious threats on his life and his personal security protection now removed - that it's not clear it could get any worse. Showing him some solidarity may not achieve much, but it would confirm that the Royal Society is prepared to stand up to bullies and support those who do deserve the accolade of being honoured.  

7. There could be bad consequences for the Royal Society if Musk were expelled.  

The main bad consequence that goes beyond name-calling (see 5) would be if Musk decided to mount a legal challenge to his expulsion. No doubt the legal counsel that the Royal Society has employed will have judged how likely this is to happen, and how likely it could be successful if it did happen. Nobody wants to get embroiled in legal battles, which can be expensive and arduous. My personal view is that the Royal Society would have a stronger defence against legal action if it polled the whole Fellowship and the result turned out in favour of expelling Musk. I suggested that the Fellowship should be consulted last Summer but was told that was not in line with the Statutes. (I should add that I'm not confident that the Fellowship would vote to expel Musk - many of them seem swayed by arguments 2-6, but with every day that passes, his malign influence on science and society increases, and so I think it's possible he might be voted out).  

Personally, I think the Royal Society should take the risk of a legal challenge. They are a wealthy organisation, and they represent the voice of scientists in the UK. Our fellow scientists in the USA are now under a level of pressure that even the most pessimistic of us had not anticipated. It is hard for individual scientists to resist. But the Royal Society has the clout and the resource to weather the storm. If they would take a stand, this would show solidarity with our friends across the pond, by confirming that the Brits aren't going to honour someone who is playing a major role in dismantling scientific research in the USA.

Prodding the behemoth with a stick

 

Like many academics, I was interested to see an announcement on social media that a US legal firm had filed a federal antitrust lawsuit against six commercial publishers of academic journals: (1) Elsevier B.V.; (2) Wolters Kluwer N.V.; (3) John Wiley & Sons, Inc.; (4) Sage Publications, Inc.; (5) Taylor and Francis Group, Ltd.; and (6) Springer Nature AG & Co, on the grounds that "In violation of Section 1 of the Sherman Act, the Publisher Defendants conspired to unlawfully appropriate billions of dollars that would have otherwise funded scientific research".   

 

So far, so good.  I've been writing about the avaricious practices of academic publishers for over 12 years, and there's plenty of grounds for a challenge. 

 

However, when I saw the case being put forward, I was puzzled.  From my perspective, the arguments just don't stack up.  In particular, three points are emphasised in the summary (quoted verbatim here from the website): 

 

• First, an agreement to fix the price of peer review services at zero that includes an agreement to coerce scholars into providing their labor for nothing by expressly linking their unpaid labor with their ability to get their manuscripts published in the defendants’ preeminent journals.

 

But it's not true that there is an express link between peer review and publishing papers in the pre-eminent journals.  In fact, many journal editors complain that some of the most prolific authors never do any peer review - gaining an advantage by not adopting the "good citizen" behaviour of a peer reviewer.  I think this point can be rapidly thrown out.

 

• Second, the publisher defendants agreed not to compete with each other for manuscripts by requiring scholars to submit their manuscripts to only one journal at a time, which substantially reduces competition by removing incentives to review manuscripts promptly and publish meritorious research quickly. 

 

This implies that the rationale for not allowing multiple submissions is to reduce competition between publishers.  But if there were no limit on how many journals you could simultaneously submit to, then the number of submissions to each journal would grow massively, increasing the workload for editors and peer reviewers - and much of their time would be wasted. This seems like a rational requirement, not a sinister one.

 

• Third, the publisher defendants agreed to prohibit scholars from freely sharing the scientific advancements described in submitted manuscripts while those manuscripts are under peer review, a process that often takes over a year. As the complaint notes, “From the moment scholars submit manuscripts for publication, the Publisher Defendants behave as though the scientific advancements set forth in the manuscripts are their property, to be shared only if the Publisher Defendant grants permission. Moreover, when the Publisher Defendants select manuscripts for publication, the Publisher Defendants will often require scholars to sign away all intellectual property rights, in exchange for nothing. The manuscripts then become the actual property of the Publisher Defendants, and the Publisher Defendants charge the maximum the market will bear for access to that scientific knowledge.” 

Again, I would question the accuracy of this account.  For a start, in most science fields, peer review is a matter of weeks or months, not "over a year".  But also, most journals these days allow authors to post their articles as preprints, prior to, or at the point of submission. In fact, this is encouraged by many institutions, as it means that a Green Open Access version of the publication is available, even if the work is subsequently published in a pay-to-read version.  

 

In all, I am rather dismayed by this case, especially when there are very good grounds on which academic publishers can be challenged.  For instance:

 

1. Academic publishers claim to ensure quality control of what gets published, but some of them fail to do the necessary due diligence in selecting editors and reviewers, with the result that the academic literatureis flooded with weak and fraudulent material, making it difficult to distinguish valuable from pointless work, and creating an outlet for damaging material, such as pseudoscience.  This has become a growing problem with the advent of paper mills.

 

2. Many publishers are notoriously slow at responding to credible evidence of serious problems in published papers. It can take years to get studies retracted, even when they have important real world consequences.

 

3. Perhaps the only point in common with the case by Leiff Cabraser, Heimann and Bernstein concerns the issue of retention of intellectual property rights.  It is the case that publishers have traditionally required authors to sign away copyright of their works.  In the UK, at least, there has been a movement to fight this requirement, which has had some success, but undoubtedly more could be done. 

 

If I can find time I will add some references to support some of the points above - this is a hasty response to discussion taking place on social media, where many people seem to think it's great that someone is taking on the big publishers. I never thought I would find myself in a position of defending them, but I think if you are going to attack a behemoth, you need to do so with good weapons.  

 

 

Postscript

Comments on this post are welcome - there is moderation so they don't appear immediately.

 Nick Wise attempted unsuccessfully to add a comment (sorry, Blogger can be weird), providing this helpful reference on typical duration of peer review.  Very field-dependent and may be a biased sample, I suspect, but it gives us a rough idea.

PPS. 5th October 2024.

Before I wrote this blogpost, I contacted the legal firm involved, Leiff Cabraser, Heimann & Bernstein, via their website, to raise the same points.  Yesterday I received a reply from them, explaining that "Because you are located abroad, unfortunately you are not a member of this class suit".  This suggests they don't read correspondence sent to them. Not impressed.