Did neoliberalism in Chile erode trust in science?

(Credit: Getty Images)

Chile is an example of how neoliberal government can lead to the loss of the public’s trust in science, a new book argues. Why? Because of how the state uses scientific expertise to justify environmental projects that benefit wealthy interests.

It’s a scenario that plays out in Western democracies all the time: A business proposes a construction project in an area that could be environmentally sensitive. The government then gathers facts from independent experts to help gauge the project’s potential impacts.

But what if the experts weren’t independent? What if a country’s education system wasn’t set up to produce knowledge, but to generate income? Could the public trust that the government and its advisors were acting in the public interest?

"Chile you profit from everything" graffiti
“Chile you profit from everything” graffiti painted on a university building in downtown Santiago in 2011. (Credit: Javiera Barandiarán)

Those are the questions Javiera Barandiarán, an assistant professor of global studies at the University of California, Santa Barbara, explores in Science and Environment in Chile: The Politics of Expert Advice in a Neoliberal Democracy (MIT Press, 2018).

A disillusioned public

Given its history, Chile was an ideal country to study. After a US-backed coup that General Augusto Pinochet led in 1973, a military dictatorship ruled the country until 1990. In that time the country adopted economic policies Barandiarán describes as “neoliberal”—which she defines as “a political ideology that privileges market-based solutions to collective needs over those that the state can provide.”

Barandiarán, who was born in Chile and studies environmental politics in Latin America, notes that while the country was held up as a “success story of political transition and stability,” many Chileans were disillusioned. Why? In addition to inequality and a fragile prosperity built on debt, she learned, there was widespread anger over what many Chileans saw as the abuse of the environment to benefit business and political elites.

To understand the dynamics at play in the environmental review of industrial projects in Chile, Barandiarán studied the interplay of state and science in four environmental conflicts: an epidemic at salmon farms across the Chilean Sea that led to the layoff of 25,000 workers; a polluting paper and pulp mill whose toxicity caused thousands of swans to disappear; a state-backed plan to move three small glaciers to “protect” them from a proposed mine; and a hydroelectric dam project planned in rural Patagonia.

Chilean swans
Black-necked swans in the wetlands outside Valdivia, Chile, which experienced a toxic shock from paper and pulp mill effluent in 2005. (Credit: Javiera Barandiarán)

What she found was that neoliberalism had a profound effect on science, or “knowledge production,” in Chile. Since the Enlightenment, in liberal democratic thought science has been seen as the pursuit of truth and source of evidence that citizens can examine. Science in this tradition serves the public good and the democratic state. By contrast, a neoliberal state treats science as a commodity done to serve private interests.

‘Loss of credibility’

“Typically the government officials and scientists I was interviewing would tell me, ‘The state cannot have a privileged relationship with any one scientific adviser,'” Barandiarán says. “They have to buy advice from competing offers. This has meant that the state has to buy scientific data, information, and reports through different kinds of tender systems, in what I describe as a market for knowledge.”

One of the grave consequences of that approach, Barandiarán says, is science’s loss of credibility in the public’s eyes.

“In all that has been written about neoliberalism, in Chile and further afield, very little has been written about the impact of neoliberalism on knowledge production,” she says. “That’s what I focus on in the book.”

rural Patagonia ranch
A ranch in rural Patagonia that would have been flooded had the hydroelectric project HidroAysen been built. (Credit: Javiera Barandiarán)

Barandiarán notes that scholars have studied the relationship between neoliberalism and knowledge production in the US—the decline in federal funding for research, the rise in corporate funding for research, and the changing incentive structure for universities, for example—but the ramifications beyond the academy are largely uncharted territory.

“No one was looking at what, then, does that mean for governance in a developing country?” she says. “And how does that change the credibility of science outside ‘the ivory tower’? What this work emphasizes is that the public credibility of science is fragile, it has to be maintained through stable institutions and careful negotiations where things like the autonomy of scientists are very important.”

Those conditions are difficult to sustain in Chile and other countries, Barandiarán says, where public funding for science has been sparse and institutions had to adapt to violent military coups as well as international arrangements that impose specific policies and norms.

Although the circumstances surrounding Barandiarán’s case studies were heartbreaking and steeped in injustices, three of the four had positive environmental outcomes. The pulp and paper mill was found guilty of polluting a protected wetland, and ordered to take a number of mitigation and remediation steps; the gold mine was permanently closed by an environmental tribunal; and plans for the hydroelectric project have been canceled.

Those victories reflect years of hard work by affected communities and environmental groups. One particularly effective strategy they used was to obstruct scientists’ access to beaches and other sites of data collection, turning science into the “weak link” in this neoliberal, democratic environmental review process. The strategy works, she says, given public distrust of scientific advice that is produced for private interests through a market.

Source: UC Santa Barbara