I spent my year as the 1982-1983 AGU Congressional Science Fellow as legislative assistant to Sen. Christopher J. Dodd (D-Conn.), covering environment and energy issues.  I offer this final report of my year not only for potential Congressional Science Fellows but for all readers of Eos who may want to contribute to science policy making (but are afraid to try).

My primary goal was to get a broad exposure to issues, organizations, people, and the legislative process; this I achieved beyond my expectation.  Congress, remarkably, is set up like a vast marketplace: There are vendors (the lobbyists and interest groups) and consumers (the constituents), and each group makes its desires known to the members of Congress, who act as brokers.  Issues are strewn about like so many fish -- some stale and rancid; others fresh and meaty, the catch of the day.  And there is no real respite: Problems requiring a response (if not a solution) will seek out even the most diffident Member or staffer.

What makes Congress frustrating is that the market operates on such a strange, hurry-and-wait schedule.  Of course, Congress can act quickly when absolutely necessary, as in its adoption of the Social Security Act last year.  But where consensus has not developed, or where an issue is too complex or abstract to merit immediate consideration, Congress can be notoriously slow in acting.  In my field, environmental science, there were a number of pending issues which were either too complex or too controversial to receive the action they warranted -- reauthorizaton of the Clean Air Act and the Clean Water Act and consideration of an acid deposition control program, to name only a few.  I watched in frustration as budgetary and defense matters marched through, and many of the issues on which I (and many others) worked hard and long remained stalled either in committee or on the floor.  The lesson, though hard, was very clear.

Nonetheless, I gained considerable experience working on legislation and seeing what the legislative process entails.  I developed some proposals for acid deposition control and some amendments on the ocean discharge waiver issue (Sec. 301(h) of the Clean Water Act), which directly affected Connecticut.  In the course of drafting these bills for the Senator I learned how powerful can be many interest groups (helpful or troublesome, depending on their stand) and how possessively Congressional committees guard their jurisdictions when noncommittee members offer proposals.  I learned too how the scientific aspects of the issues, which occupied much of my time, played in counterpoint (or often in mere accompaniment) to other political considerations.  And I saw how both science and politics got transmogrified by counsel into cold, statutory language that elucidated neither the science nor the politics behind the measure.

There is much else, of course, that occupies a Senator's office besides legislation, and I did a good share of casework, involving constituent problems with federal laws and agencies.  Though eschewed by many, such casework reveals much about how government actually works (or doesn't work).  It was gratifying to be able to help out towns, companies, and individuals through the weight of the Senator's office.  While it can be frustrating to be besieged by endless requests and demands, I realized that citizens are better off for having members of Congress who are directly accountable to them.

There is good news for the scientist who would influence legislation.  With the plethora of issues to consider, much of the substance of issues and remedies goes unexamined in Congress.  Scientists can provide useful, substantive advice even if they do not work on the Hill, especially for the personal offices of Senators and Congressmen, which rarely have staff scientists at hand to help them with complex technical issues.  Concerned scientists should develop a relationship with the staff of their own Senator or Congressman, particularly with the legislative director and the legislative assistant in the relevant area.  Correspondence is not sufficient (the Hill operates on personal contacts), so telephone calls and personal visits are always advised.  An alternate route for influencing Congressional affairs is to become an advisor to an interest group.  In either case, a persuasive argument communicated in a personal, direct way can be a significant influence on a Member of Congress (or his staff) looking for clarity in a maze of ideas, people, and paper.

Scientists (and science) can in fact do a lot to shape events in Congress.  A good example of bad influence by scientists is the money Congress awarded last year to Catholic University and Columbia for materials science laboratories without any peer review or Congressional committee authorization.  For those who think that science is irrelevant to policy making, there is the recent counterexample of budget director David Stockman holding up an acid deposition control program because of scientific uncertainty.  Admittedly, the Administration's bottom line here is money and votes, not ecosystems, but scientific considerations play a big role in the management of this problem.

There is much, however, that a scientist (and science) cannot do in Congress.  Scientific information and reasoning in themselves do not provide usable answers to Congressional decision makers.  Science must be transformed and cast in terms of social value judgments, which are the real fare of Congress.  The acid deposition issue ultimately requires a balancing of regional and social costs and values: Environmental protection in one place may necessitate increased living costs or even job losses in another.  What legislators need from scientists is a clarification of effects and consequences.  For example, in the ocean discharge issue, scientists should clarify the possible effects on water quality of increased biological oxygen demand and toxic loadings owing to reduced municipal sewage treatment.

Decisions on policy are value judgments based on many different considerations -- social, economic, and political as well as scientific.  The scientist may consider herself or himself equipped to render such judgments (staff scientists are in fact asked to make such recommendations), but the scientist should realize that, in doing so, a professional boundary is being crossed.  Charting the course of that fine line, and watching it bend and bulge with the flow of events, are among the inimitable challenges and adventures of working as a scientist in Congress.

Arthur B. Weissman, AGU Congressional Science Fellow, 1982-1983.

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