China is on the way to the moon. On 24th October, the unmanned Chang'e 1 lunar probe blasted off from Sichuan province. Its instruments will map out the geology and geochemistry of the lunar surface from orbit. It is the first step in an ambitious programme that aims to conduct robotic exploration before 2020 and ultimately to establish a manned lunar base.
The latter partly explains the current interest in lunar mineralogy. While there are scientific reasons to explore the moon's chemical composition—searching for clues about how and when it was made—a moon base would surely have to use local raw materials. But mining the moon's minerals might also have benefits on earth—for example, solar power plants made in situ could supply energy to be beamed back here, or the minerals themselves might be transported for commercial purposes. The 1967 outer space treaty forbids the assertion of national sovereignty on lunar soil, but it offers no environmental protection.
But much of the Chinese space programme, like the Apollo missions, looks like an assertion of national technological status. The economic case for lunar exploration is hard to make, and the scientific case is marginal. Culturally, we have already been there and got the T-shirt. Another moon shot from Nasa would only drain funding from more intellectually motivated space science; it is hard to imagine that won't happen for China too.
The dust settles on Watson
Is James Watson the victim of the thought police? A few commentators, including some scientists, have suggested this, but it's a mistaken view. If he had been suspended from the chancellorship of the Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory in New York, precipitating his retirement, because he raised an unpalatable scientific question, the affair would be shameful. To avoid asking questions because we might not like the answers is anathema to science. But Watson did nothing of the sort. His claim in the Sunday Times that intelligence levels differ between races for genetic reasons was not a scientific hypothesis, but a statement of alleged fact without any basis, supported by anecdotal observations of remarkable crassness. Watson has now admitted that "there is no scientific basis" for the belief that, as he implied, Africans are less intelligent than other races. So what was he thinking of?
The probable answer can be inferred from the way the story emerged. The Sunday Times did not itself run with it as a news item because its newsdesk deemed, correctly, that there was nothing particularly new in it. Watson has, for example, cast doubts on women's scientific abilities, and has proposed a bizarre link between climate and libido. He has proposed the termination of foetuses that might carry genes for "stupidity," and implied it is not such a bad idea for "gay genes" either. These views have generally earned Watson nothing more than a reputation for controversy, which he relished. Having been afforded so much tolerance in the past, Watson surely assumed that there was no need to rein in his prejudices on this occasion.
There are parallels with the case of Larry Summers, who eventually resigned as president of Harvard one year after the furore prompted by his suggestion that women might be innately less able in science than men. There too, some portrayed Summers as a casualty of "liberal" intolerance—and certainly his remarks were, unlike Watson's, reasoned and well intentioned. But when, in a debate at Harvard, Steven Pinker defended the notion of innate gender cognitive differences that might explain the under-representation of women in science, he was trounced by psychologist Elizabeth Spelke, who pointed out that even if marginal differences exist, they play a trivial role in the face of strong social and cultural biases. The same is truer still with race and intelligence. Neither of these things are scientifically well defined, and it is not clear how one could make the "all else being equal" comparisons so crucial for resolving nature vs nurture debates.
To many scientists, Watson is no Galileo condemned in the court of PC, but a rather sad figure who finally got his just deserts. He has achieved great things as an administrator and science advocate (scientifically he was not in the same league as Francis Crick), and his judgements have not always lacked wisdom. But his childish delight in being offensive has done genetics no favours.
Peer review hinders artificial life
One of those who contradicted Watson's remarks was genomics pioneer Craig Venter. Like Watson, Venter was in London recently to promote his autobiography, A Life Decoded, and he met with a small group convened at the Royal Society to discuss the new discipline of synthetic biology, which aims to create artificial organisms. Several well-placed participants agreed that current funding review procedures in both Britain and the US prevent this kind of highly interdisciplinary work from thriving in the public sector, for peer review typically promotes the mediocre at the expense of the visionary and daring. A new assessment model is needed for cases like this.