Breaking: Is the USDA Silencing Scientists on GMO
Truths?!
Is the USDA Silencing Scientists?
Late last year, Jonathan Lundgren, a South Dakota-based
entomologist with the U.S. Department of Agriculture, submitted an
article to the scientific journalNaturwissenschaften.
It described how clothianidin—one of a controversial class
of pesticides called neonicotinoids—harmed monarch butterflies.
The paper was accepted. Then, in February, a supervisor confronted
Lundgren. She informed him that the paper shouldn’t have
been submitted without official approval. It was sensitive.
Not long after, the National Academy of Sciences scheduled
Lundgren to give a presentation on the effects of
genetically modified crops on farmland ecology. As is
customary, the NAS would pay for his travel to Washington, D.C.
Lundgren accepted, but didn’t complete the requisite agency
paperwork—something that’s technically against the rules, but not
unusual, with scientists instead filing when they return. Lundgren
was reportedly boarding the plane when instructed to return home and
reimburse airfare costs out of his own pocket.
In August the USDA formally suspended Lundgren for these
transgressions. But according to Lundgren, he wasn’t punished for
breaking a few rules. Instead, he says, the very agency
responsible for America’s farms and food punished him for his
science.For anyone who cares about scientific integrity, or
about agricultural practices and policies with profound consequences
for everyday life, it’s a disturbing allegation. The potential
ramifications extend beyond Lundgren to other scientists who might
be discouraged from studying important but politically contentious
topics.“There’s a message: If you want to prosper at USDA, don’t
make waves,” says Jeff Ruch, the executive director of the watchdog
group Public Employees for Environmental Responsibility. “When you
do what Jonathan is doing, you do so at your own peril.”On
Wednesday, PEER
filed a federal whistleblower complaint on Lundgren’s behalf.
According to his complaint, the suspension was part of a campaign of
harassment that started last spring after two incidents.
First, Lundgren
talked to a journalist about the risks of a new
genetic-engineering technique pioneered by the agribusiness-behemoth
Monsanto. Then he peer-reviewed a report by the Center for
Food Safety that criticized the overuse of neonicotinoids, which are
ubiquitous in American agriculture and
linked to widespread declines in pollinators.
After that, recounted Lundgren in
a document released with his complaint, “improper reprisal,
interference, and hindrance of my career began in earnest.”
He was told not to speak again to the media about those topics. His
human-resources department launched a six-month-long investigation
of Lundgren’s lab, interviewing his staff and reviewing their emails
in a search for misconduct. Some were dismissed.According
to Lundgren, supervisors rejected his research proposals, throwing
his grant-seeking efforts—the lifeblood of any lab—into disarray. A
trip abroad to give a presentation became a red-tape nightmare;
slides in the presentation, he was told, needed to be reviewed by at
least seven administrators, none with direct expertise in his
research. Under the strain he stepped down as lead scientist on a
major project at his facility, the North Central Agricultural
Research Laboratory.Lundgren was even asked to remove his name as
co-author from an article, “The
causes and unintended consequences of a paradigm shift in corn
production practices,” in the journal Environmental Science
and Policy. “I believe this action raises a serious question
concerning policy neutrality toward scientific inquiry,” wrote his
co-author, the economist Scott Fausti of South Dakota State
University, in a footnote to the paper.Of course, it’s not yet clear
what actually happened. Maybe Lundgren just didn’t get along with
his boss. It happens. Asked for comment, the USDA declined
to discuss Lundgren’s case specifically, but said in a
statement that “we take the integrity of our scientists seriously
and we recognize how critical that is to maintaining widespread
confidence in our research among the scientific community,
policy-makers, and the general public.”
Still, Lundgren is unquestionably accomplished in his field. He’s
won awards, published dozens of peer-reviewed articles and been
widely cited by other scientists. And, according to PEER, he isn’t
alone. PEER has
collected allegations by other USDA researchers who haven’t yet
gone public, but describe pressure not to pursue certain lines of
research. The pressure isn’t necessarily as egregious as
the kind you find in Lundgren’s account, but there are allegations
of verbal discouragement, and a tacit understanding of what sort of
research and behavior is unwelcome.
The agency’s own guidelines also state that scientists “should
refrain from making statements that could be construed as being
judgments … on USDA or any other federal government policy, either
intentionally or inadvertently.” That open-ended language—is there
any important agricultural research question that doesn’t touch on
policy?—seems to invite politically motivated interference with
science.
“For the USDA to say that EPA’s analysis was flawed, without any
evidence to back that up, was really disconcerting,” says Scott
Black, the executive director of the Xerces Society, a conservation
group active in neonicotinoid debates. “For USDA to stifle Dr.
Lundgren’s objective and quality research, not to mention casting a
shadow over legitimate scientific debate, is perhaps even more so.”
Others see a less nefarious USDA desire to avoid bitter
controversies between industry and activists, at least in public.
Whatever the reasons, it’s a disturbing pattern. Nearly half of
America’s surface is devoted to food production; agriculture affects
everyone. And though public debate over pesticides and genetic
engineering often descends into hyperbolic posturing, questions
about their harms and benefits desperately need to be studied.