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First the good news. Almost everything in William Waldegrave’s White Paper
on science and technology is sound. Its national strategy for science is
long overdue; its reform of the research councils is sensible; and the
thrust of its changes to scientists’ careers is in the right direction. The
White Paper will improve the business of science in Britain.

The question is whether it goes far enough. From the very start, Waldegrave
has been encouraged to look at the big picture – the role of scientific
research in Britain’s economy. New Å®ÉúСÊÓƵ has long argued, and not alone,
that research is one of the keys to reviving the country’s long-term
prosperity. So, will the machinery put in place by Waldegrave help to
improve our economic performance? On this, the signs are mixed.

The White Paper acknowledges the central role of science in the economy. It
says that Britain’s basic research is good but that the problem lies in
turning research results into profits. Its solution is partnership between
government, scientists and industry. This analysis is sound. The weakness
lies in the government’s attempts to turn thought into action.

First, the Ministry of Defence’s £2.6 billion annual
research budget accounts for almost half the government’s research spending,
and the potential benefits to industry from making better use of it are
incalculable. Yet, after a year of discussion, the way the MoD spends this
money remains almost exclusively its own affair.

It is not enough to say that the Defence Research Agency, which spends most
of the MoD’s money, is newly born. All the more reason to make sure it is
linked to the civil sector right from the start.

Secondly, technology transfer from academia to industry ought to be the very
stuff of the White Paper. It is the mechanism for turning research into
products. Yet here we have muddle mixed with fudge.

Responsibility for technology transfer is to be split between Waldegrave’s
Office of Science and Technology and Michael Heseltine’s Department of Trade
and Industry. There is no new money and the DTI will keep the lion’s share
of the present purse for technology transfer. Many companies will find
themselves beating a path to Heseltine’s door. At the same time, the OST
will talk to the same companies during its massive ‘technology foresight’
exercise, to identify key technologies. Business can be forgiven for asking
who its partner is supposed to be.

Waldegrave’s idea of partnership sound fine. But little is to be seen of it
here. If anyone expects the relationship between the OST and the DTI to be
harmonious, they need only look at the infighting between them over the
past year.

Thirdly, industry is invited to advise the government on how to spend its
research money. Yet it is not encouraged to spend more of its own money on
research. Industry spends £8 billion a year on research, so
increases here would have a far greater impact on Britain’s future
prosperity than tinkering with the research council’s £1
billion. But devices such as tax incentives for companies that carry out
research are missing from the White Paper, presumably at the Treasury’s
bidding.

These failings will leave people wondering whether the government is sincere
when it talks of the central importance of science to Britain’s future.
Waldegrave plainly is. But the omissions in the White Paper and his
inability to win new funds for science show that not all his colleagues,
especially those in the Treasury, share his commitment.

Waldegrave suffers from having an idea that is too new for his colleagues.
Although a close relationship between government, industry and scientists is
the norm in most industrialised countries, especially Japan and Germany, it
comes as a shock to many Conservative MPs. Waldegrave’s partnership would
have been unthinkable under Margaret Thatcher. And to free-marketeers,
Norman Lamont and Michael Portillo at the Treasury, it must appear little
short of heresy.

Try replacing the word ‘science’ with ‘industry’ and ‘scientists’ with
‘workers’ in the document and you will see why this is. It would be easy to
misrepresent the White Paper as a return to the 1960s and collaboration
between industry, unions and the government. At the very least, it has
slipped in a form of industrial strategy through the back door – something
which free-marketeers have fought hard to leave out in the cold.

However, it is the newness of the idea which is encouraging. The annual
strategy for science and technology which the Cabinet will agree and
publish will provide a forum in which the issues that have been fudged by
the White Paper can be raised. There, the role of defence research can be
examined, and the DTI’s performance on technology transfer scrutinised.
Above all, the connection will be made at the highest levels of government
between Britain’s investment in high-technology research and its economic
performance.

The White Paper heralds a profound change in the way decisions are made
about science. The attempts of the Advisory Board for the Research Councils
to identify scientific excellence are being replaced by a political game in
which scientists can win only by convincing the rest of the country that
science really is central to our prosperity. In the long run, this is the
biggest game in town. And there is everything still to play for.